Chapter 11

I got back to my building just as the guys were breaking for lunch. A quick glance at the five bins I had set up showed that most of the work orders for the day had been completed. I'll be damned! My new system was working!

"Hey, boss," Gene yelled as he came in from the changing room and pointed toward the bins. "Look at that! We're almost done for the day."

"That's why they pay me the big bucks," I grinned. "I figured we were wasting a lot of time in decon and changing gear back and forth."

"Oh, yeah?" Gene shot back. "If you're so smart, then how come it took you so long to come up with this new way of processing the work orders?"

"Basic laziness, coupled with a good dose of Knitell's Law," I replied. Seeing their puzzled looks, I explained, "It's part of Murphy's Law: If the damn thing works at all, leave it alone!"

They all nodded, almost in unison. Murphy's Law they understood.

I continued, "My dislike of being raked over the coals for the mistakes finally overcame my basic laziness, so I decided to do something about it. I didn't hear any explosions, so I guess you guys made a few less mistakes than usual this morning."

Amid the laughter, Ray got serious. "Your new system is great, but we almost got a helping hand from Murphy himself on our first dump, so we modified your system a little." Now it was my turn to look puzzled. He went on to explain, "On our first job, Gene and I did just like you said. We wrote the procedure in our notebooks. It's been a while since I've handled this particular compound, so I wasn't exactly sure, but when we compared our books, Gene's procedure matched mine. While we were suiting up, I kept glancing over at Gene, thanking about that procedure that I wasn't quite sure of. I noticed Gene kept looking at me funny."

Gene picked up the story. "Ray kept looking at me kinda funny. Finally I said, 'You wanna check it?' and he said, 'I sure do!' So we checked the manual. Turns out we were both wrong in exactly the same way.

"We called the guys together and told them what had happened. We all decided that it wouldn't hurt for us to look up every procedure. Since each team was working a different type of dump, we could use all five of the procedures manuals at the same time and write 'em in our books. Took us about 20 minutes to check 'em all for the day. Then we were sure."

"That's great, you guys!" I was really proud of my team. "Gene, you and Ray get the inerts tomorrow. It's not every day we get to beat Murphy at his own game." I turned to include the rest of the guys. "Now, after lunch, make sure you don't do something dumb, like pick up someone else's notebook. Murphy doesn't like to be thwarted like that!"

Once again, I received a round of serious nods. I saw Jeff grab a marker and put his name on the front of his notebook in big red letters, after carefully checking to make sure it was his. The marker made the rounds and each man did the same. You don't mess with Murphy!

Before lunch was half over, they were all back to normal -- crude jokes, farting, put-downs, and the sort of general behavior you'd expect from a bunch of high school students -- today they were throwing "yo-mama's" and leftover food at each other. At one o'clock, they headed back into the locker room to "suit up" for the rest of the disposals.

I started sorting the morning dumps back into their original categories. Note to self: We need five "completed" bins as well, so I don't have to sort these damn things twice! As I was finishing, there was a knock on the outer door. Hmmm. That was another first. Nobody had ever knocked on that door since I had been here.

I opened the door to a young man who just had to be Reggie. Slicked down hair, button-up white shirt, horn-rimmed glasses, colored pens in a pocket protector -- you get the picture. He was pulling a dolly cart stacked with a couple of cardboard boxes and an old printer.

"Mr. er... ahh... ," he fumbled with the yellow copy of a work order.

"You must be Reggie," I cut him off. "Come on in. The stuff goes in my office in the back." I pointed vaguely toward my office door. "Is that everything Carol needed?"

"Carol? Er... Oh! Yeah! Ms. Simmons!" his face reddened a little as he thought about Carol, then he continued, "This is what she asked for. But this is an old building. We may have an AUI drop here somewhere, but I doubt if there's any UTP. Might need to set up a bridge... ," he continued in techno-jargon, muttering to him self as he wheeled the dolly between the desks back to my office.

"There's a strange connector on the back wall near my desk," I told him, trying to be helpful.

His face lit up. "That's it, Mr. er... ," he started digging for the work order again.

I waved a dismissal. "Just call me John. Do you have what you need to hook me up to that?" I pointed at the connector on the wall.

Reggie pulled a little plastic box about the size of a cigarette pack out of his back pocket. It had a little foot-long cable on it and a bunch of little lights. "Lucky I thought to bring a transceiver. Now... if we get a heartbeat... ," he lapsed back into geek speak as he bent to his task. Anticipating his next question, I started clearing space on my desk and credenza for the hardware.

"I'll be in the outer office when you're done," I told Reggie as I headed through the door. He seemed glad not to have an audience as he started pulling computer parts and cables out of one of the boxes.

I sat and watched as the guys finished in decon and came back into the big office. It was 1:30 and all the work for the day was done, with no screw-ups. Eleven people -- no, thirteen, counting Carol and Charlie over at Admin -- times eight hours for the day gave us 104 safe man hours for the day. I could just see that sign now!

"Who was y'all talking to in yer office?" Jeff asked as he leaned back in his chair and propped his dusty boots on his desk.

"That's Reggie," I replied. "He's hooking up the computer and printer that Carol is going to use to simplify our lives. Soon, most of our paperwork will be a thing of the past."

Jeff's feet hit the floor as he sat up and stared at me. "You mean you was serious, John-boy? About gettin' that sexy-tary over here to do our forms?" he asked incredulously.

"That's right, Jeff-bob," I answered with a grin. I made a big production out of looking at my watch. "She'll be walking through that door in about 15 minutes. I expect all you jerks to be on your best behavior. We don't want to scare her off before she even gets started on the forms, do we?"

I laughed as Jeff pulled an old rag out of his desk drawer and tried to get some of the dust off of his boots. As he was doing that, Reggie and his push cart emerged from my office. "You're all set, Mr. er... John. We use first names and last initials for user ID's, so I set you up an account as 'johnb.' Ms. Simmons has her own account." Reggie shot a quick glance at Jeff, then grinned. "I set your initial password as 'johnboy.' You'll ahh... you'll probably want to change it," he finished lamely as he reached the door. I thought Jeff was going to have a coronary from laughing so hard.

"Thanks, Reggie," I said with a grin. So the techno-geek had a sense of humor after all. "I'm sure Carol, er... Ms. Simmons will be sure to thank you personally for all your hard work." Reggie's face quickly took on the hue of one of our 'flammable' stickers as he stumbled out the door. Wait'll he sees Carol's new dress code. The kid'll probably melt through the floor.

At two o'clock, Carol 'bounced' into the room. Her sweater was still unbuttoned down between her boobs, and she had an extra sway to her hips. She was definitely showing off. The sound that greeted her was the collective sound of ten guys sucking in their breaths, followed by their jaws hitting the floor and their eyes bugging out.

"Hi, John. Has Reggie been here yet?" Carol asked as she took in the ten slack-jawed statues staring at her.

"Been here and gone. He said you would show me how to log on and all that stuff," I replied. "Guys, if you'll roll in your tongues, I'll introduce you to Carol." I went around the room and they all mumbled their hello's, mainly to her chest. I saved Jeff for last. "Carol, this is Jeff. He refers to you as the sexy-tary." I'll give him credit. He managed to looked her right in the eyes as she walked over to him.

"I'm mighty pleased to meat you, ma'am," he mumbled as his face turned red. "I... I... er, really didn't... er..."

"I'm very pleased to meet you, too, Jeff," Carol said as she took his hand. His eyes lost the battle as she shook his hand, causing her boobs to wobble. "Thank you for the compliment, and I'll do my best to live up to the title you have given me." She turned to me. "Are you ready to get started, John?"

"Right this way," I grinned as I pointed to my office.

"Are they always this quiet?" Carol asked with a grin as she passed me into the office.

"Only when they meet a walking, talking pair of boobs like yours," I replied as I closed the door behind me. We both laughed at the explosion of conversation that erupted in the other room as soon as my door closed.

Carol glanced briefly at the equipment that Reggie had set up, then she dropped the folder that she had been carrying in the chair and turned back to me. Her big boobs mashed against my chest as her arms went around my waist. After a long kiss, she whispered, "Do you remember I said that you could fulfill one of my fantasies today?"

"I remember," I whispered back, "but you didn't tell me what it was." My hands were under her sweater, making light trails up and down her spine.

Carol stepped back a half step so she could look me in the eye, my hands cupped the sides of her boobs under her sweater. "I... I want to be taken," she said in a firm voice. "I want to be bent across your desk with my boobs mashed down. I want you to take me from behind, with my skirt flipped up and my panties pulled aside." I could see the fire in her eyes. "I want you to use me for your pleasure, then I want to sit beside you and work, while your cum soaks into my panties."

My mind was whirling. "But... but the guys... The walls here aren't very thick."

Carol grinned as she pushed aside some of the papers on my desk. "That's part of the fantasy," she said softly. "Does your door have a lock?"

"No."

"Good. Push me down and fuck me," Carol said as she stood against my desk.

I crossed to her as I unzipped my pants. She said she wanted to be taken, so I grabbed her shoulders and shoved her firmly down onto my desk. I flipped her skirt up over her back and yanked the crotch of her panties aside, almost hard enough to tear them.

"Yes... ohhhh, yesss," Carol gasped as the impact with my desk forced her breath out. Her panties were soaked and I hadn't touched her yet.

"Spread 'em," I muttered as I gently kicked at the insides of her ankles. She may want to be taken, but I didn't want to leave bruises. Carol moaned as she spread her legs, then again louder as I sank to the hilt in her steaming pussy. I realized that she was going to climax soon, not from my dick sawing in and out of her dripping snatch, but from the force of her fantasy. Carol didn't want me to be nice and caring; mindful of her needs. She just wanted to be used.

So I did.

I used her pussy almost like I would use my own hand to masturbate. I slammed into her over and over again until, "Ugh... I'm... cumming... !" I gasped softly. I still had enough presence of mind to remember the guys in the outer office. Carol was moaning in the throes of a small climax herself. I'm glad she wasn't a screamer.

I slipped Carol's damp panties back over her red, swollen pussy as I pulled out. I put my juicy dick back in my pants, then I flipped Carol's skirt back down and helped her stand back up. Her face was red and she had the imprint of a pencil on her left cheek, but her eyes were bright above her big smile.

"That was wonderful!" she sighed. "After all those years of nothing but the missionary position with Scott, I was starting to fantasize that Charles Allen Boggs the Third would bend me across his desk." She reached under her skirt and felt her soggy panties. "This is wonderful! I'll be feeling this for the rest of the day. Speaking of which," she pointed at the computer, "are you ready to get started?"

"Just about," I grinned. I quickly unfastened two more buttons on her sweater. "Now I'm ready to work."

"Men!" Carol spat as she shook her shoulders and her tits bounced into view, but she had a grin and a twinkle in her eye as she said it.

I won't bore you with all the details of my initiation into data entry. Carol took one of each type of our completed forms and set up the information that never changed. She didn't seem to have any problems typing while I was playing with her boobs. Then she did some magic so the current date and time were always put where they belonged. After that, it took us only fifteen minutes to input the data for the entire day and send them to the printer. The most time consuming part of the job was waiting for each form to print and then lining up the next one so all the data were in the right boxes. We even sped that up by using tome white correction fluid to put some lines on the printer where the forms needed to be. When Carol wasn't typing, her hand was wrapped around the bulge in my pants.

At 3:15, we walked back into the outer office with all our work for the day -- including the paperwork -- not only complete, but error free. "Here ya go, guys," I said as I passed the five groups of forms to the teams. "I'll leave the hard part of tearing off the back copy and sticking it in the file to you. We are done for the day!"

The guys gave me a good-natured cheer, but all eyes were on Carol. I had re-done the two buttons I had opened on her sweater, but she had opened one back up, saying that she had a reputation as a sexy-tary to uphold.

The room had become suddenly quiet as we had entered, and Carol hadn't missed it. "Look, guys, I'm going to be over here every afternoon. I can tell John has a great team here, and I don't want to mess it up or cut in on any of the fun you guys have around here. Just think of me as one of the guys."

Amid the laughter, Jeff stated in all seriousness, "Ma'am, I could never think of you as a guy."

"Thanks, Jeff, I really appreciate that," Carol replied, just as serious, "but when I'm in here, I'm not ma'am, or Ms. Simmons. I'm just Carol, the official CWD sexy-tary." She shook her tits at them, her nipples playing peek-a-boo with her half-open sweater. "You don't have to stop having fun or telling dirty stories just because I walk in. I like a good joke as much as the next guy, and I don't care if it's clean or dirty." She flipped her hair. "After all, I'm not a blonde, am I?"

Amid the laughter, Ray muttered, "At least not up there, anyway."

All laughter died immediately and all the guys stared at Ray, who started turning red. They thought he had blown it for all of them.

Carol laughed and said, "I can assure you, the carpet matches the drapes. Just ask John." Now it was my turn to get red. Carol continued, "I told you I like jokes, even if they're about me." By the time she finished telling them the one about the blonde who died her hair brown, she was one of the guys.

We all sat around and shot the shit for the rest of the afternoon. When it was time for us to leave, Gene gave voice to the question that I'm sure was on everyone's mind.

"Hey, Carol, I'm glad you're just one of the guys now," Gene said carefully, his eyes locked on Carol's cleavage and her prominent nipples that were dimpling her sweater, "but just how far does 'being one of the guys' go?"