"So, Mark, read the brief?" Vickers is looking keenly at me. He's one of the senior managers and I'm sat in his office. I nod. "Sounds interesting," I say. "But hopefully not TOO interesting, eh?" says Vickers, joshing me. I shoot him a grin - I've passed my exams and qualified (a lawyer now!) and this is the first time I'm to be let loose with 'in charge' responsibility away from the office. A fraud investigation and me and a couple of juniors are going in to do some prep before the big boys get involved. We'll be there a week. Company is out of town, so it's a hotel gig, starts Monday morning and it's now Friday afternoon. Bit of a rush to get ready! "Okay, so away you go," says Vickers. "I'll pop out middle of the week and check how we're doing. Happy with your team? Emma and Ken?" "Sure," I tell him, which is true enough.
Emma Mills, that's good, that's very good. She's a hottie - the best looking girl in the firm by miles. Emma Mills is fucking gorgeous! Every guy from the senior partner to the janitor fancies the pants of her. Me, I'm about in the middle, and I'm totally no exception. I fancy the pants off her. I've got a girlfriend and she's pretty and I like her, but if Emma is ever interested ... well let's just say so am I. A week in close proximity to Ms Mills? Four nights in the same hotel? Yep, I'll take it. Chance to really get to 'know' her if you take my drift. And zero male competition because I've also got Ken. No intention of getting to know him any better than I already do, which is depressingly well. Kenneth Longbottom. Oh god. Guy's a joke. Must be at least ten years older than me and still a junior for fuck's sake, failing his exams for about the hundredth time just as I'm passing them first go. Says it all, doesn't it? Bit of a sack he is too – the sort you can bully around and rip the piss out of. Poor guy gets a hard time around the firm and I have to admit I'm one of the main tormentors. Can be quite entertaining.
There's time for a short meeting, the three of us, to get our ducks in a row, and it goes well. Goes very well.
Emma's excited. She's 22, only been with the firm six months, and eager to shine. Way she looks, that's a slam dunk. She's shining alright. Hard to say which is more fabulous, the face or the body. Not that I can totally see her body, of course, but her outfit leaves no doubt she's the complete package. As I run through the essentials I pretty much ignore Ken and concentrate on Em. She really is a 24 carat babe. Girl's so fucking horny in her tight skirt I feel like jumping her there and then. And she knows I do, I can tell. Good. I want her to know it. What's even better is how it doesn't bother her, me looking at her the way I am. Fact, she's liking the attention. Emma Mills is one of those girls who's very comfortable with guys lusting after her. Encourages it even. Like how she keeps crossing and re-crossing her legs as I'm talking, letting her skirt ride up her thighs. Yeah, she knows exactly what she's doing with that, no question. Fine by me. More than fine. I glance down periodically, ogling her luscious pins, make it clear I'm enjoying the view. Old Ken's looking too, although he's trying not to, which is funny. As if. Has the guy even been with a woman his whole life? Seriously doubt it. Brad Pitt he is not.
"So, all set?" I say, wrapping up. "Sure, Mark. I'm looking forward to it," says Emma. I like the knowing way she's grinning at me. "Kenneth?" I say, still looking at Emma. She's idly fingering a button on her blouse. It's a spectacular view already with the top three undone... 'Melons' is one of her nicknames with the guys ... if she pops this one too, oh jesus. But she doesn't. She leaves the button and turns to look at Ken. What a fucking tease! I've heard she does get off on toying with guys, loves them panting over her, but I'm praying she's not JUST a cock-teaser. Shit, I already want to nail this sexy little bitch so bad I can hardly think straight!
I'm also looking at Ken now. "Ken, you okay?" I prod. "Err..." The clown is rifling through his notes, thinking I want an intelligent question. I roll my eyes for Emma's benefit and she sniggers. "Just 'Yes, Mark' will do fine," I snap at the guy, enjoying playing the bossman in front of Emma Mills. He stops fumbling with his papers and goes a bit red. "Sorry. Yes, Mark. All set."
"Okay, so see you at the station Monday. Bright and early - we're on the 8:37."
All goes swimmingly. First thing, when we've met up, is I explain about expenses. We've got a maximum for the week, I tell them, and the best way, rather than divvy up, is I'll pay for everything and do one big claim at the end. I've already got our tickets, I say. They're both cool with this. Wouldn't matter if they weren't since I'm running the show. Then the snag. A little wheeze I've come up with to get some time alone with Emma. The budget's only enough for two of us to travel first class, I say, and I ask for a volunteer to go second, staring at Ken. He gets the message and puts his hand up. "Me then, I guess." I give him his ticket and a pat on the back. "Ken, you're a prince," I say, grinning at Emma who's trying not to laugh. I feast my eyes on her for a moment. Her travel attire is super-tight blue jeans, little suede boots, skimpy tee-shirt, leather jacket. She looks fantastically fuckable.
Check my watch – 8:15. "Anybody fancy a quick coffee?"
"Not for me, thanks," says Ken. "I'd love one," says Emma. "Didn't have time this morning. Overslept. Only just about managed to shower and get dressed." Cue visions of her naked, soaping herself under a jet of warm water. The mischievous look she tosses in my direction says she knows exactly what's going on in my head. In Ken's too, no doubt, but her sexy, insinuating smile is 110% for me. She's definitely decided to flirt with the boss! And Ken? Big fat zero for him, I'm afraid. Poor sod is getting ignored again by a drop-dead gorgeous girl. Apart from just now ... this 'volunteering' business ... she's barely looked at him since we got here. "Okay, you and me then, Em," I say, fishing a note from my wallet. I glance over at the Starbucks. There's a queue. Good. I don't bother looking at Ken, just wave the money in his direction. "Do the honours, Kenny, there's a good chap. Coffee for the first class passengers." That makes Emma giggle. Ken takes the cash. He really is pathetic. You can treat him like shit and he just takes it. Dork. "Er, haven't you forgotten something?" I say, as he makes to go. "Umm ... have I?" "Yeah, you have. How do you know what sort of coffee?" "You're cappuccino no sugar, Mark, aren't you?" he chirps. Which is bang on, I have to admit. Guess he's fetched me one so often from the office machine that he's got it hard-coded. "And Emma? Doesn't she count around here?" I say, winking at Em. Ken looks suitably embarrassed. "Ah, okay. Sorry." "Don't say sorry to me, Ken. It's Emma you need to be apologising to." Emma is finding this very amusing, I can tell from the look in her eyes, but she's keeping a straight face.
"So go on then," I order. "Tell her you're sorry and ask her what she wants."
"Um, I'm sorry, Emma. What would you like?" Emma's fighting back the giggles. "Well let me see," she muses, finger on chin, taking her time. "I think what I'd really love right now is a skinny double macchiato decaf with two sugars and a nice big dollop of whipped cream on top. How's that?" "Okay," he mumbles, setting off again. It's fucking hilarious. "Er, Ken?" I call him back. "D'you wanna maybe just repeat that back to her? You know, make sure you've got it." He does, says the whole thing back to Emma and he gets it correct as it happens. There's a problem, though. "You've forgotten the most important bit!" Emma announces, chiding him. Ken looks confused. "Shot of vanilla. I said that, Ken, didn't I? Sure I did." She turns to me. "I did say with a shot of vanilla, Mark, didn't I?" I nod. "Yeah, Em, definitely. Shot of vanilla. C'mon, Kenny, wake up! Want you on-the-ball this week." "Okay." Ken doesn't want to argue. Very wise. We finally let him trot off and join the Starbucks queue. Both of us crease up when he's gone. "Poor guy!" giggles Emma. "That was a bit naughty of us, Mark, wasn't it?" I grin at her. "Yeah, guess so. He's such a total twat, though."
When Ken returns we don't break off our conversation, Emma and I, we just put our hands out for the drinks. Emma takes a sip... "Mmm, lovely!" ... and then she asks whether she can send him back to get her a chocolate muffin. She really fancies one, she says. "Sorry, Em, train's going in five minutes," I tell her. "Okay, never mind then," she says, putting on a sulky pout. "My fault. Should have asked for one before." "Or maybe our Ken here should have asked you," I say, looking daggers at the poor sod. "Yeah, why didn't you ask me, Kenny?" ... Emma looks rather pissed off with him too now... "If you'd remembered to ask whether I wanted a chocolate muffin with my coffee I'd have definitely said yes." "Um, sorry, Emma," he mutters. Can you believe the guy? God. "Apology accepted, Ken," she smiles. "But try and do better in future, okay?" "Okay, Emma." "Yeah, Kenny, on your toes, we're looking for a good performance from you on this job," I cut in. "I'm really sorry, Mark," says Ken, looking sheepish. Also a bit scared, me being the boss. I stare at him as if about to deliver a serious tongue-lashing. "Okay. Least you're admitting you screwed up. Guess that's something," I say, finally. His relief is palpable. "Doesn't get Emma her muffin, though, does it? You being sorry?" I snap. Emma's just about losing it. "You bastard!" she mouths at me. Egging me on. "And you really fancied one, Em, didn't you?" I say to her. She nods gravely. "Yes, I so did. If only he'd thought to ask me."
.... There is more of this story ...
Ma/Fa / Mult / Consensual / NonConsensual / Reluctant / Coercion / Blackmail / Mind Control / Slavery / Heterosexual / MaleDom / FemaleDom / Spanking / Rough / Light Bond / Humiliation / Sadistic / Torture / Oral Sex / Petting / Food / Water Sports / Exhibitionism / Voyeurism / Foot Fetish / Leg Fetish / Violent /