Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Romantic, Heterosexual, First, Pregnancy,
Desc: Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 1 - While George looked after his sick wife his most trusted employee walked off with the business - and then his wife when she recovered. He now needs someone to help him rebuild. Jennifer has never had a proper job since finishing her training. She is excited to get a job. Any odd job. But this job sets a lot in motion. Within a week life has changed completely for Jennie and the people around her.
The noise woke her up. Although it was half past eleven on a Tuesday morning, Jennifer - or Jennie with an 'i-e', thank you very much - was in bed feeling miserable and had dozed off. On Saturday she had had to move back in with her parents; after 3 years of un- and under-employment she could no longer afford the small bed-sitter that had been her home since moving out at 18. She had never gotten on with her mother and her mother's husband - everything from their reactionary politics to their joyless religion went counter to what she believed in, but in the end she had no choice. It was back to her old room or onto the street. And she didn't dislike them that much! At least not her mother. She detested her stepfather and he in return had seemed very reluctant to let her move back in.
She had tried everything to avoid the situation, living extremely frugally. She had sent scores of applications every week - good ones too; she was a trained secretary after all, but she got next to no interviews and had only held part-time temporary jobs. Sometimes she didn't even get her pay, but she couldn't afford taking legal action. And sometimes she had had sleazy offers. They had been turned down firmly.
Although she didn't share her parent's beliefs she was still influenced by them in as much as she was a virgin; technically speaking. Her deft hands, her pouty mouth and her deep silky-soft cleavage had triggered a fair few ejaculations, but she had never let a boyfriend get close enough to go all the way and get a dick inside her. While at school she stayed clear of this ultimate 'sinful temptation' her parents continuously warned her about. When she finally revolted, she had chosen an education that was women-only for all practical purposes - at least she met no eligible males. She had no close friends and rarely went out. The next chance to meet someone was usually through work, but she had never had a job long enough to meet anyone that special.
And at present her worries were financial, not romantic. Besides, she was in no fit state to do anything at all right now anyway. Normally she would be job-hunting at this time of day, but she had her period and felt awful. She had actually been physically sick after breakfast and had crawled back to bed. The noise was her cell-phone ringing. She fumbled for it and almost didn't answer in time "It's Jennie," she mumbled.
"Ms. Jennifer Banks?" a voice inquired. The man sounded cultured; Public school, but perhaps not quite upper crust.
"Yes, that's me," Jennie replied - this time sounding slightly more coherent.
"I was expecting you at 11AM. Has something happened?" the man said.
"Sorry, you lost me here. Who am I speaking to please?" Jennie said - her receptionist training kicking in.
"This is George Sanders," the man said. "You applied for a position with my company and I sent you a letter Thursday asking you to come for an interview at 11AM today. Surely it must have arrived?"
Jennie groaned inwardly. Finally a positive response to an application, and she didn't get the letter! She felt despondent. "I am terribly sorry Mr. Sanders. I had to move and obviously the letter has not been forwarded."
"Oh, I see. Yes, it sometimes takes a while before that service functions," the man said. Jennie could detect no anger or annoyance in his voice and her hopes rose. Presumably he didn't just call to scold her! His next utterance justified her optimism. "I don't suppose you would be able to come anyway with this short notice?" he asked.
"Why, certainly. It's Sanders IT Security, isn't it? I can be at your premises in about an hour," Jennie said. That was overly optimistic, but she was willing to give it her best shot.
"Shall we say 1PM?" the man said. He obviously knew London's public transport system quite well.
Relieved, Jennie agreed and hung up. She rushed out into the bathroom and had a quick shower. She wouldn't have time to wash her hair which was a pity - it could certainly do with a wash, but her thick mane of copper red hair took forever to dry. There wasn't time to press her nicest business skirt either; it would have to do as it was - slightly crushed. The top she found was at least clean and conservative. The man had sounded old-fashioned somehow. Better not show too much leg and cleavage. The latter was difficult; she hated her large breasts and squeezing them into a tight bra was painful because her period made them so tender.
She really also ought to hold back with the makeup, but although she usually had good clear skin, she was prone to acne during her period. She looked herself in the mirror and felt despondent again. She had several bad pimples and she thought she looked - and certainly felt - bloated. Not exactly the best way to present herself - late, bloated and painted like a tart to cover the blemishes. Not to mention in pain. She grimaced and realized she could scare small children with that expression.
She rushed to the train station and missed a fast connection by seconds. The next service stopped at all stations and by the time she got to her stop, she had only 5 or 6 minutes to spare. But she was determined to make it and ran as fast as her aching body and pretty but impractical shoes would allow. At 1PM exactly she pressed the button labelled 'Sanders IT Security' next to the door of an office block mercifully close to the tube station.
"Yes?" a male voice said. The sound from the intercom was bad so she couldn't tell if it was Mr. Sanders himself.
"Jennifer Banks to see Mr. Sanders," Jennie said, trying not to sound quite as out of breath as she felt.
"Excellent," the metallic voice replied. "Take the lift to the 3rd floor." She heard a buzzer, pressed open the door and crossed the small lobby to the lifts.
Inside the lift, she found a 'Sanders IT Security' sign with a logo along with similar signs of several other companies next to the '3' button. OK, perhaps the company wasn't all that big. 'No matter, ' Jennie thought, 'as long as they pay.'
When she got out of the lift she had to revise her opinion several times again. She came out into a spacious reception area common to all companies on the 3rd floor and surrounded by glass walls. 'Sanders IT Security" seemed to occupy at least half of the floor and was thus huge in terms of floor space compared to the others. Only there seemed to be very little activity. She went to the door which had a large version of the logo frosted into the glass. Unsurprisingly it was locked - it was a security firm after all - and she was about to knock on the thick glass when a man seemingly in his forties appeared from an inner office. He was dressed in a business suit and looked delicate or possibly even fragile. With a welcoming smile, he walked briskly to the door. He swiped some electronic device on his key ring and a quiet click announced that the door was unlocked. Before she could even react, he had swung open the door for her with more agility and strength than she would have expected from his appearance. He extended a well manicured hand.
"Welcome Ms. Banks," he said in his attractive cultured voice. "I am delighted that you could make it with such ridiculously short notice. I really appreciate that. And I see punctuality is one of your virtues. The radio-controlled clock in my office chimed one at the exact moment you pressed the button downstairs."
Jennie smiled faintly. "It was touch and go Mr. Sanders, touch and go. And I am grateful that you have not discarded my application despite me not showing up." She studied her potential boss. At this close range she could see that the suit was tailor made and of exquisite quality. His shirt looked tailor made too and his tie was nice. Not an old school tie, but very good taste. She also studied the man's face. His short hair was mostly grey except at the temples where it had turned almost completely white. The fragile look was only from a distance. He looked sinewy and tough at close quarters. She revised her guess of his age to late thirties. The lines of his face told Jennie that worries were not unknown to him, but his eyes - greyish blue and remarkably clear - were calm and determined. They were also friendly and strangely attractive. They held hers in a gentle lock.
George Sanders studied the girl as carefully as she was studying him. There had been scores of applicants and several he was sure could have managed fine, but the application from Jennifer Banks had captivated him. It was very well written and she presented herself well too - her lack of experience not withstanding. She was honest about that, and George liked honesty. But the girl had also enclosed a photograph and that had sealed her fate.
Her face was an almost exact replica of Lillian, the soon to be very ex-Mrs. Sanders, when young - down to the freckles across her nose and her green eyes. Her hair was even lusher than Lillian's had been at that age. Sure, little Ms. Banks' thick red locks could have done with a wash, but George knew that she wouldn't have had the time. 17 years with Lillian had taught him that. Her breasts were clearly larger than Lillian's - much larger; something the photograph hadn't shown. On a good day she would be a stunner. Today wasn't one - her face was slightly puffy now and she had applied some rather crude make-up in places. George smiled inwardly. OK, so the child had her period and tried to cover temporary acne. Poor thing.
They suddenly both realized that their hands were still locked in a firm clasp. Jennie felt embarrassed and started blushing, but Mr. Sanders just smiled, gave her hand a final light squeeze and let go. A paternal hand on her shoulder directed her towards his office. "This way, Ms. Banks, if you please."
The decor of the premises was like that of most high tech companies - nice, but bland, but Mr. Sander's office was furnished in very good taste. He guided her to a chair in front of an ancient desk and went to the opposite side. He beckoned her to sit down and she noticed he remained standing until she was seated. 'Full points for manners so far, ' Jennie thought.
She felt safe and comfortable in his company. And his faint smell of Bay Rum and Harris Tweed which would indicate a man in his late seventies, not his late thirties, somehow underlined the impression of respectability and trustworthiness. And yet something seemed odd. The heavy glass out to the reception area was no doubt an excellent sound insulator, but inside the premises she had expected the sounds of a high tech office. Yet apart from she faint humming of a desktop computer, the entire place was eerily silent.
That the front office was vacant did not surprise her. That was after all the position they had advertised. But it seemed strange there was no one else around at all. That the owner himself should be answering the door and interviewing secretarial staff was also unusual. Almost like he had read her mind he went straight to business. "Ms. Banks, you may wonder why we are here alone. To be completely honest - and honesty is the foundation for everything I do - 'Sanders IT Security' is at present a one man operation."
This unusual opening could have been disconcerting, but Jennie took Mr. Sanders at face value. She had however noticed a fleeting pained expression on his face when he mentioned honesty. Something must have happened. She also noticed that although there were no rings on his fingers, his left ring finger looked like he had worn a fairly broad ring until recently. Deciding that shyness and modesty would get her nowhere, she went for broke. "I very much hope there will be twice as many working in the company when this interview is over."
The smile she got for that made her feel all warm and fuzzy inside. "I very much hope so too Ms. Banks", he replied. "Very much so. But perhaps we should talk a little about you and what the job involves first..."
She accepted the gentle rebuke with a smile and told him what there was to tell - about her school and her training as secretary and receptionist at a reputable establishment. And how the economic slump at the end of her training had meant a severe downturn in the job-market. People far more experienced than she had been willing to work at junior wages and in consequence she had had years of, at best, part time casual jobs and long periods of unemployment. But she had her school papers and a couple of references and she had dutifully enclosed copies of them.
"Yes, I noticed," Mr. Sanders said. "Your employers seem to like you. Not your fault that they have been unable to keep you on. Perhaps I should tell you what this job at Sanders IT Security would involve."
In reality she would be acting as both secretary and receptionist - and to some extent, business manager. "Not that there is so much of either of those functions yet, but we're rebuilding," George said. He explained that that he had been away from the business for personal reasons for an extended period of time during which his second in command had stripped the company of staff, customers and assets and set up shop himself. The task at hand was to rebuild. From scratch. George had always been involved in the day to day work as the most senior specialist and he was perfectly able to start over.
Alarm bells were ringing in Jennie's head. "I hope you don't mind me asking point blank, Mr. Sanders, but I have had one or two bad experiences in the past in regards to my pay..." Jennie started.
He got the drift at once. "Oh, have no fear, Ms. Banks. My former right hand man may have stripped the company of assets. And my soon to be ex-wife will do her best to strip me personally of those assets she knows of. But that does not in any way leave me penniless. Your salary is guaranteed. If you wish I can pay a lump sum into a holding account in your own bank and have them release it to you on a weekly basis. It will make your tax accounts more complicated, but then - that's your work area anyway."
Jennie was taken aback by that. She had to be careful about ensuring she got paid. On the other hand, this was her best shot at a job for a long time and she was not going to blow it by being suspicious. Her recovery was good: "That won't be necessary Mr. Sanders. I just wanted to be sure my pay is not dependent on me generating business in an area I don't really know."
He smiled and the warm fuzzy feeling returned. "Have no fear," he said again. "I will take care of the IT-security. You, essentially, have to take care of me. And help me rebuild."
"I'd love to," Jennie said. Possibly sounding much too keen and much too personal. But this seemed like a fantastic chance and she had briefly envisaged more than one way of 'taking care' of Mr. Sanders.
"Excellent," he said. "I hoped you would be the right person. Now, your pay. What level of pay are you expecting?"
Jennie was a little thrown by that question. The man knew she had never had a permanent job. Anything above the national minimal wage would be an improvement. "I am not sure," she managed. "What level did you have in mind?"
"Oh, I was thinking of starting you on £26.000 a year - £500 a week; a nice round figure," he said nonchalantly. "Plus a pension fund contribution of course. Will you accept that?"
Jennie was completely stunned. This was nearly 3 times the minimal wage for someone like her. Even when she turned 22 soon, it would still be more than double up. Her honesty got the better of her "Mr. Sanders! Why would you pay someone with next to no experience that much money?" she blurted out.
Her openness touched him and he repaid her in kind. "I tell you why. What I am about to embark on is going to be difficult. Very difficult. You may say I am driven; I actually don't have to do it to make a living but I want my life back. I need someone I can rely on completely, someone who will be 100% loyal to me. I am sure you will give me satisfaction and I want to ensure that you cannot be lured away by a better offer. And you will know things no-one else must know."
He was emanating power and determination. Jennie felt attracted, almost mesmerised. For a fleeting moment she had associated 'giving satisfaction' with something quite unprofessional. The thought did not turn her off, yet the last statement had her worried again and it reflected in her facial expression.
Mr. Sanders noticed and hastened to continue: "I am not asking you to do anything that is unethical much less anything illegal. Ever. But if you can leave customers with the impression - without saying anything that is untrue, mind - that the company is bigger than it actually is then we may grow faster."
"How so?" Jennie asked - puzzled, but not adverse to a challenge.
"Essentially by telling any customer who calls and asks for former staff that the person in question is unavailable for some reason, but that senior staff will deal with their issues personally. Then I will flatter them with senior attention, asses the situation and hire the people we need as we go along."
It was Jennie's turn to smile - and George's heart melted. 'Damn she looks like Lillian at 21', he thought.
"You are right, that's not exactly deceitful. I can do that," she said.
"Do we have an agreement then?" he asked
"I am not in a position to refuse, Mr. Sanders, "Jennie said. "You are much too generous and I am looking forward to working for you."
"Excellent," he said again. "Now, when can you start?"
"I am currently unemployed - I can start this very moment," Jennie said. Despite herself, the eagerness had crept back into her voice. 'No matter - he has already hired me, ' she thought.
He smiled at her. "Well, as you may have noticed mine is the only functional office. I have ordered a lot of equipment that should arrive during the day tomorrow. I suggest you start here on Thursday morning at 9 and spend the day helping me setting up furniture and equipment. Wear something that won't hurt from physical labour. We will be unpacking a lot of stuff."
"Not a problem," Jennie replied. And indeed it wasn't. Most of her clothes were far from suitable for office wear. She would have to do something about that, and do it quick. The first pay check would be welcome.
Again George could more or less read her mind. Her fleeting glance at her skirt was not lost on him. The child had been underemployed for a long time and sure to be strained financially. He decided to tie her even closer. Buying her loyalty perhaps? He didn't like to think of it that way. Showing her how generous he could be, then? Much better. He cleared his throat. "That's for unpacking and setting things up, you understand. I expect a certain level of dress when we are seeing clients on the premises. You are the face of the company. I don't want to sound offensive Ms. Banks, but I understand completely if you feel your wardrobe may need a boost after a period of irregular earnings."
'You can say that again, ' Jennie thought. She decided to remain silent, but tried to make her face look like an 'and?' query.
She was successful. "And I would like to contribute to that. It is only fair," he said.
To Jennie's amazement, he got an envelope our of a drawer and counted out 500 pounds in 50 pound notes, which he handed her. "This is for various work-related expenses," he said. "I do not need receipts and the tax man will not be told."
"Thank you Mr. Sanders!" Jennie managed. "They will come to good use."
"Now," he continued, "I need you to sign an employment contract with me. It contains a fairly strongly worded confidentiality clause. You ought to read it carefully before signing."
He turned to his PC and called up a document. "You told me this morning you had moved. Can I have your new address?" he asked
"Certainly," Jennie said and mentioned it. He typed it into the document and a few moments later two copies of the agreement came out of a hitherto silent printer.
He signed both copies with a fountain pen and then handed them to her along with the pen. "Read it carefully and sign one copy. The other you may keep for your own records."
Willing to sign anything to get the job, but deciding it would be more professional to read the document, Jennie did so. It wasn't overly long or complicated, but the confidentiality clause was certainly iron clad. Once more Jennie wondered exactly what had happened to Mr. Sanders. She was determined to earn his confidence and find out. She noticed fleetingly that her initial pay was listed as £26.000 p.a. and she had not seen him type on that page. In fact he had only changed her address - everything else was typed in advance. He seemed strangely keen to hire her over all other applicants. She was fleetingly worried - spooked even. 'Don't look a gift-horse in the mouth', she chided herself. 'Even if it only lasts a couple of weeks, the pay is sensational.'
She finished reading and signed it without any further qualms. She handed the original and the fountain pen back and put her own copy in her hand bag, "Don't you want me to come tomorrow? I am perfectly willing to do so," she offered bravely - despite the intense pain from her abdomen.
"No, that's OK," he replied. "Not much is happening tomorrow - the phones won't even be reconnected yet." He looked straight at her. "Besides, you will feel much better on Thursday."
Jennie was gob-smacked. "What, I mean, how, how did you know?" she faltered.
His smile was enchanting. "I was married for 15 years. And I grew up with 3 older sisters and a mother. I know bad period pain when I see it. Don't ever worry about taking a day or two off on that account when working for me. OK?"
Jennie could only nod. He escorted her to the door and operated the security system. "I will have a set of keys and access devices ready for you on Thursday Ms. Banks. Thank you for accepting the position; I look forward to seeing you again."
The hand-shake was firm and warm. Jennie felt drawn to this man and didn't want to let go, but did, of course. "Likewise, Mr. Sanders," she said. "See you Thursday morning."