The Competitor - Cover

The Competitor

Copyright© 2011 by Switch Blayde

Chapter 3

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 3 - Jenny is an intern at a prestigious architectural firm, an opportunity not usually afforded to a girl attending a city college. If she's successful, it will lead to a job offer. But her competition is a rich, pretty girl attending an Ivy League university. Tiffany is the type of girl Jenny envied in high school, someone who gets everything she wants through teasing, manipulation, phony charm, and sex. So when their boss takes a "special" interest in Tiffany, Jenny is concerned.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Anal Sex   Exhibitionism   Slow  

Sitting at the dinner table with her parents, Jenny was atypically quiet. She could not stop thinking about the screams coming from Mr. Johnson’s office and the way Tiffany looked when she came out. Jenny envied the other girl’s looks and the way she carried herself. She remembered back in high school that she wanted to be just like those girls. Tiffany was pretty, wore expensive clothing, and looked perfect all the time -- well, except when she emerged from Mr. Johnson’s office that day.

Tiffany seemed to have everything going for her, like attending an Ivy League university. Jenny was stuck in a city college because her parents couldn’t afford anything else. She had been offered scholarships to more prestigious schools, but the room and board was beyond her parents’ means. That’s why this contest was so important to her. The firm was one of the most esteemed architectural firms in the state and usually someone graduating from a city college didn’t stand a chance at working there. But one of her professors knew someone, who knew someone else who was associated with the firm and she got the internship. It was her big opportunity. However, Tiffany was her competition and she knew girls like her back in high school. They always won. She didn’t know how, but they did.

Jenny looked up from her plate. She had been twirling her fork in the spaghetti.

“Mom, why did you name me Jenny and not Jennifer?”

“It was your grandmother’s name. What’s wrong with Jenny?”

“It’s so plain. You could have named me Jennifer.”

“My mother’s name was Jenny, not Jennifer. If it had been Jennifer that’s what you would have been named. Why are you asking that?”

“Oh, nothing. Just wondering. That’s all.”

Jenny went back to twirling her spaghetti. Tiffany had everything, even a cuter name.

During the next few days, Tiffany was unusually quiet. She stayed in her cubicle and pored over the assignment. Jenny was busy as well, but it was typical for her to work hard. Things usually came easy for Tiffany so it seemed strange to see her working so diligently.

On Friday, another one-on-one was scheduled with Mr. Johnson. This time Jenny went first. She was still apprehensive about meeting in his office but knew it was necessary and scolded herself for being silly. He’s my boss. He’s a nice guy. I don’t know what happened to Tiffany and I don’t want to know. Nevertheless, Jenny hesitated when she was told to close the door after entering his office. With her papers tucked under one arm, she held onto the doorknob with her back to him. Her palm got sweaty and she felt herself shuddering, but after taking a deep breath and letting the air out slowly, she released the doorknob and turned around.

Mr. Johnson, sitting behind his desk, smiled and motioned for her to come closer. “Sit down,” he said, indicating the visitor’s chair. “We’re halfway through the allotted project time. I’d like a status update.”

Jenny approached the chair while trying to prevent the papers from slipping from under her arm. The architectural plans were long sheets of paper rolled up and held together with a rubber band. It was cumbersome to carry with her writing pads and other items. And when she sat down, the end hit the chair and it popped out. Her attempt to catch it only caused the other items to fly in all directions. She turned bright red as she dropped to her knees and scrambled to retrieve all the items. After gathering everything and clutching them to her chest, Jenny carefully sat down.

“Good ice breaker,” Mr. Johnson said.

Jenny stared at him, flabbergasted, mortified. And then she saw the corners of his mouth curl up. The tension was released and she burst out laughing. Mr. Johnson chuckled as well and all of a sudden Jenny felt relaxed.

“Now, how’s the project going?” Mr. Johnson asked.

“Good. Real good. I believe I understand the customer’s requirements and have restructured the back of the house. I brought the outside inside.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Well, I know they’re outdoors people and they have a wonderful view of the preserve from the back of their house so I added some windows and a rolling wall.”

“A rolling wall? Hmm, I like that. When the weather’s nice they can open up the back and it will be like being outside even when they’re inside. Yeah, I like that a lot.”

Jenny felt good about his reaction. It was a major part of her plan. They discussed some of her other ideas and what she had left to complete the assignment. When she returned to her desk, she was beaming with pride.


Tiffany kept looking at her watch. She was falling behind on the project and wasn’t sure what to tell Mr. Johnson. She had planned to find an excuse to meet with him throughout the week, to “charm” him in her special way, but he had been out of town. And her efforts with Jack Armstrong didn’t go well. He ignored her advances. The office rumor was that he was gay, and now she was sure of it. No guy ever refused her advances. But now Mr. Johnson was back so she had her chance, although she was a little afraid of him.

Tiffany ignored Mrs. Walstrom’s scowl and knocked on the doorjamb. Mr. Johnson looked up and indicated for her to come in. She closed the door and took the same visitor’s chair as the last time.

“I’ll be with you in a minute,” he said while scribbling notes on a report on his desk.

Tiffany sat with her knees together and her hands in her lap. She had laid her copy of the architectural plans and notes on the floor next to the chair. The last time she was in the office she knew what she was going to do. Now she wasn’t as sure.

Mr. Johnson looked up. His gaze dropped from Tiffany’s face to her breasts and then her lap. It lingered there before returning to her face.

“So how are you doing on the project?” he asked.

“Um, pretty good. With a little more experience I’ll be your best architect.”

“I’m sure you will. I’m sure you will. But what about the current project?”

“Well, I put in a fireplace and pitched the ceiling.”

“The ceiling? If I recall, there’s not much of a crawl space.”

“I didn’t check that. But so what?”

“That means a change to the roof. That’s pretty expensive.”

Tiffany squirmed in her seat. Her temples throbbed. She rubbed her sweaty palms on her skirt. She needed help and knew how to get it.

“Can you think of something better to do?” she asked.

“I can think of a lot of things to do, but it’s your assignment, not mine.”

While slowly spreading her legs, Tiffany said, “I’m sure one little itsy-bitsy suggestion would be okay. After all, people help each other all the time in business. Someone helps someone and then they return the favor. What’s the expression? You wash my back and I’ll wash yours.” Tiffany was glad to see Mr. Johnson staring under her skirt.

This is so easy. All guys are the same.

“Yeah, um, maybe I can help a little. It’s not like, um, I’d be doing your work.”

Mr. Johnson never looked up, and his mouth gaped when Tiffany continued to spread her legs, so much that the short skirt rode up so high that even she was able to see her lime-green panties. She fanned her knees and saw Mr. Johnson lick his lips.

“Do you masturbate?” Mr. Johnson asked.

“What!”

“Do you masturbate?”

“Well, yeah, everyone does.”

“Show me how you do it.”

“Right here?” Her voice was a pitch higher.

“Weren’t you talking about favors ... washing backs? You want something from me and I want something from you.”

“It’s just that...” Tiffany paused, thinking, That’s so personal. No one ever saw me-- What the hell? “Sure, if that’s what you want.”

Tiffany tugged her skirt from under her butt and yanked it up to her waist. She placed a hand on her belly and then slowly moved it down until her long fingernails, painted in bright red polish, slid under the waistband of her panties. She paused while staring at Mr. Johnson’s face. His eyes were locked on her hand so she pushed her fingers in a little further and wiggled them under the shimmering nylon material.

After teasing Mr. Johnson, Tiffany shoved her hand further into her panties. Her finger slid down the slit and sunk into her hole. Even with the panties covering her hand it was obvious that she was finger-fucking herself.

“You better take your panties off,” Mr. Johnson said.

Tiffany’s hand froze. “What?”

“I can’t see what you’re doing so take your panties off.”

Fuck! That’s even more embarrassing, she thought, but pulled her hand out, stood, and pushed her panties to her knees. After sitting back down, she took them off and shoved her hand between her clenched thighs.

“Spread your legs like before,” Mr. Johnson said.

Tiffany did not like being told what to do. She was always the one in charge, so when she did something it was her idea and it seemed right. But now she was following directions and that made her feel submissive, not in control. She did not like it. But she was going to win, no matter what. The better girl won and she was the better girl. She always had been.

The gloating expression on Mr. Johnson’s face when she parted her knees caused her to cast her eyes down. She didn’t like it.

What the hell, if he wants a show I’ll give him a show. Who knows, the old geezer might fuckin’ come in his pants and I’ll be done.

She looked back at Mr. Johnson’s face to gauge his reaction. If she could turn him on she’d be back in control. Tiffany placed the fingertip of her index finger in her mouth and sucked it, exaggerating the movements of her lips and sucking noises. Then she placed the wet finger on her clit and moved it in circles. Her other hand dropped between her legs and she inserted the middle finger into her pussy. She watched Mr. Johnson like a hawk and smiled when his hands disappeared behind the desk.

He’s gonna jerk off. This is gonna be easy.

Tiffany closed her eyes and used both fingers to pleasure herself. Once again she used her imagination to take her from the degrading situation to the privacy of her own bedroom. In her mind, she was lying on her bed watching Rhett on his knees begging for her to let him fuck her.

Tiffany’s eyes popped open when she felt a hand on her head. She turned to see Mr. Johnson’s hard cock right in front of her face. He was naked from the waist down and his cock protruded through his shirttails.

“Don’t stop masturbating,” he said.

She didn’t realize she had, so her fingers moved again. Mr. Johnson grabbed his hard cock and Tiffany thought he was going to jerk off, but he guided it to her lips. She instinctively pressed them together, but then remembered what was as stake and parted her lips. Mr. Johnson’s cock slipped inside her mouth.

Tiffany was no stranger to giving blowjobs. It was one of the easiest ways to manipulate a guy. She did not like it, but if the guy was clean she tolerated doing it and would finish him off with her hand. So Tiffany did what was necessary to win. She sucked and licked Mr. Johnson’s cock with feigned enthusiasm, making loud moaning and slurping noises.

All of a sudden, Mr. Johnson humped his hips which caused Tiffany to gag. She reached up and grabbed his cock to control the situation.

“No! Don’t stop masturbating,” he said.

Tiffany pulled her mouth off his cock. “I’m still masturbating.”

“Use both hands.”

“But you choked me.”

“I’ll be more careful.”

Tiffany looked up at Mr. Johnson’s face. She was apprehensive, but saw the determination in his eyes. She sighed and guided his cock into her mouth, and then she dropped her hand back into her lap. She finger-fucked herself and rubbed her clit while sucking her boss’s cock.

To Tiffany’s relief, Mr. Johnson did control his movements, to some extent. Once in a while she would gag, but not often. She was accustomed to jerking the boy off while sucking him, it ended quicker that way, but she had no free hand. And it was not very comfortable with her head turned to the side.

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