Dots and Dashes of Color - Cover

Dots and Dashes of Color

Copyright© 2011 by Harvey Marcus

Chapter 9

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 9 - An epic tale of fathers and daughters sexual encounters that reaches into the guts of big business and the perverts therein. Hmm, sounds like a made for TV movie.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Ma/ft   Fa/ft   Consensual   Reluctant   Coercion   Blackmail   Drunk/Drugged   Lesbian   Heterosexual   Humor   Incest   Mother   Father   Rough   First   Safe Sex   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Masturbation   Size   Doctor/Nurse   Big Breasts  

Mr. Marcus walked away from Zenellis's ideation/sex camp with $100,000 plus five percent of future profits from FasTack used in medical applications. Except for royalty checks, he didn't expect to hear from Zenellis again. So much for expectations.


Two months after the sex seminar outing with Annie and the Cocksworth clan minus the missus, the phone rang in my office. The caller ID said 'Zenellis Enterprises'. Was my first royalty check ready, and they wanted my Social Security number? Nah, too soon. Product development takes time, and then there's testing and -. The phone hadn't stopped. "Marcus speaking."

"This is the Office of the Chairman calling." The female operator had a nice voice, and familiar. Was this the same person who'd delivered the contract for me to sign? I couldn't forget her if I tried. She was diminutive - I never call a woman short - with a button nose. She might be able to pass for a midget, unremarkable except for her oversized breasts. "The Chairman would like to meet with you, at your earliest convenience. Is one o'clock acceptable?"

Hell, it was eleven and I was planning a nice lunch. Maybe Zenellis would buy? Nah, not his style. "I'll grab an early lunch and come over."

Three crises delayed my departure, leaving me no choice but the food court on the main floor of my building. The fast food didn't agree with me. My stomach rumbled all the way over to Zenellis's building and up the elevator to the penthouse floor. Even if the conversation was boring, the view would be spectacular.

The midget receptionist sat outside a row of mahogany doors and greeted me with the same voice I heard on the phone. She didn't recognize me from our previous encounter, or pretended like she didn't. "How can I help you?"

"I'm Harvey Marcus, here to see the Chairman."

"Go right in. She's expecting you."

She? I opened the door. At the far end of a long room sat Saroya at an oversized desk. Since when did she become Chairman? Where was her old man? Retired? Nah, too young.

"I'm so glad you are here." She stood, and walked around the desk to make the greeting more personal.

Like I had a choice. "Nice to see you, too." I wasn't lying. A black bra showed through Saroya's thin white blouse, and her skirt showed almost all of her legs, stopping strategically at mid thigh. Since when was she wearing such provocative outfits? At her birthday party, she was wrapped neck to toe in brown cloth. Memories of rubbing my hands all over her body, and her touching and sucking my dick and sprang up. So did my penis. I hoped she wouldn't notice. On second thought, why not? She'd taken at least some of the initiative.

She pointed to a chair directly in front of the desk. I sat, as she leaned against the edge. She slid one leg over the other, her skirt riding up even further. Saroya had the best legs, sculpted but not overly muscular. She could probably break my ribs if I found myself with her legs wrapped around my-

"I called you here for two things," she said.

I didn't expect that one of them was fucking my brains out, but a guy can wish. "Yes?"

"I'm offering you a position with my company," she said.

Horizontal with her on top? God, I didn't think her teasing in the hotel room had gotten to me, but obviously it had. Always a good practice to listen. "Go on."

"I will more than match your current salary. I reviewed your product suggestion, as well as the terms of your agreement." She patted a thick stack of paper, probably the agreement I signed in haste. "You could have a bright future at Zenellis."

I didn't expect this at all. For one of the few times in my life, I was speechless.

Saroya continued, "Of course, employees surrender rights to their ideas to the company. Standard industry practice."

"Of course." That's why the job offer - to break my agreement for residuals on QuickSuture, or whatever they'd call it, my idea to use FasTack in medical applications. "Sorry, but no thanks," I replied. I could see there'd be some benefits - God, those legs! And I'd seen her practically naked. Not only seen, but touched. Damn, all I needed was an indication she was interested and I'd have her on her sprawled on her back on that desk of hers -

She uncrossed her legs, pulled down her skirt, a futile gesture, and folded her arms across her chest. "In that case, I want to speak with you about the terms and conditions you negotiated with Father."

I thought back to the day her secretary - what was her name? - interrupted a fire drill meeting called to solve a crisis with a failed system. Everyone and everything stopped when she'd entered the conference room with a document thick enough to choke a horse. She politely demanded that I sign it, right then and there. The cover page had a due date of that day. Zenellis had delayed delivering it just so I'd have no time to read it myself or have a lawyer look at it. So I scrawled my name on the last page, and she shuffled out of the room. I had to shout to regain everyone's attention. I guess my colleagues don't often see zaftig midgets.

"Where is the old man, anyway?" I expected I'd be seeing him, although my dread had turned to delight.

Saroya leaned over to grab a manila folder.

I dropped my head just a bit, to perchance to get a glimpse up her skirt.

"Several fathers didn't take necessary precautions at his outing and their partners became pregnant." Saroya flipped the folder open. Pictures slid out, cluttering her empty desk. I stood to examine the photos. One showed the cheerleader who'd leaped from her chair and whose breasts bounced under her shirt. Her face was sad in the photo, as if she'd just lost a dear pet. The second was a girl I hadn't seen at the outing. The third was very familiar. Carol, the skinny one with the eyes! Shit! Had I gotten her pregnant? Zenellis or any of the others would have had an easy time with her after she and I had fucked. No way was I going to volunteer any more information. "That's terrible."

"Our video recordings of the tutoring sessions were stolen, so all we have are the planned match-ups," said Saroya. "Interviews with participants disclosed that many of the intended matches of fathers to others' daughters did not take place. And, some fathers and daughters might have come together on their own. Without the recordings, we have no substantiating evidence."

Damn right! Those disk drives were safely stored in my crawlspace, in sealed plastic and industrial cardboard cartons. Saroya knew I went to erase the episodes in my hotel room, but did she know I'd taken all of them? So far, she hadn't asked, and I wasn't going to volunteer. "Seems like your dad's outing got way out of control. A little like you did, hmm?" No harm in reminding her of our brief encounter, sans clothes.

Her face reddened but she continued, "They're all getting abortions, as best we can determine. Although we were able to keep it from the public, there was private outrage from our Board and major stockholders. Fathers who used protection wondered why other guests didn't. They assumed such precautions were mandated. In the end, both groups demanded satisfaction. Father stepped down and turned the company over to me, about three years earlier than scheduled."

I sat back down. Now it was my turn to fold my arms. "My deal was with the company, not your dad. You're not going to renegotiate the deal I have! No way!"

"Let's set that issue aside for the moment. The other thing I wanted to see you about is product testing." Saroya fondled the buttons on her blouse with one hand, and extended the other. I stood. "Let's get comfortable on the couch." The sofa was at the far end of her office, near the door.

Testing new products was part of the agreement. I was sure of that. We walked the length of her office past a series of built-in bookcases. The sofa was flanked by floor to ceiling mirrors. Getting comfortable on a couch with a desirable young woman was something I had experience with. Frequently. We sat on opposite sides. I didn't want to get caught gawking at her body. Behind Saroya, the large mirror played back her ass and my reflection.

"Father told me of an embarrassing incident at the outing," she said.

His or mine?

She continued, "That you glued your lingam inside one of the young ladies?"

Lingam, my penis. I'd gotten stuck inside Carol, and she got pregnant. Maybe it wasn't me. Zenellis acted like he would make a move on Carol any minute, and there could have been others. "If he said so."

"Well, we've productized the concept, modified of course. Our chemists have created a formula using the essence of FasTack with a natural lubricant. It's designed for couples who want more stimulation than the natural friction of lingam and yoni."

Yoni. Pussy. Terrific. My accident with Carol becomes a revenue stream for Zenellis. "So, do I get a royalty on this one, too?"

Saroya's face reddened. "No. This was my idea."

Based solely on my true-life experience. Saroya had said product testing. Was this my invitation to fuck her? I bet that natural friction would be sufficient, and StuckFuck gel would be unnecessary. But, if she wanted me to help test it -

Saroya returned to the far side of the room, ass wiggling under her skirt. At her desk, she leaned over and tapped the intercom. "Letti, ask Natasha to come in now."

Natasha? Saroya wasn't planning on being my partner in the test? A sigh deflated my lungs but not my prick.

Letti's voice crackled over the intercom speaker. "She's not here, Ms. Zenellis. She left for lunch."

"Oh, she did?" Saroya growled. "When she returns, tell her she's on permanent lunch. We'll send her personal effects." She paced the length of the room, glancing at me, then the mirror to my right, then back at me. Saroya made no move to straighten her clothes or adjust a misplaced lock of hair. Not that her coiffeur was anything but perfect. Saroya walked to the door and stuck her head out into the hallway. "Letti, come in here!"

The small receptionist came in. She was exceptionally well built for a small person, great body in a small package. For the second time, I saw her standing. In profile, she had a nice ass, too. She was almost like a version of Saroya that had been washing too many times in hot water.

"Letti, this is Mr. Marcus. He is here for product testing," said Saroya. "Natasha was going to work with him, but since she decided to fill her stomach instead of her - well - you'll have to substitute."

"Whatever you need, Ms. Zenellis."

"Good attitude. Take off your sweater."

"What?" Letti's cheeks gained some additional color.

"Are you deaf from those things you wear in your ears? Take off that sweater, and drop your slacks. Did I approve of slacks as dress code?"

"You're kidding, right?" Letti's head turned back and forth, examining our faces. Mine was blameless.

If this was to be a demonstration of the new sex lube, Saroya was setting Letti up to be my partner. Not that I'd mind. "Leave the young lady alone," I said. Best to be the hero in these kinds of circumstances.

"And you, drop your trousers," said Saroya.

Her tone was like a military commander barking out orders. Is that how she got things done at Zenellis? Not for long. "The hell I will!"

"Must I remind you of your agreement with Father? The terms and conditions specifically state-" She strutted back to her desk, and grabbed the document. I followed.

"- That you will, quote, provide any and all assistance with product development and marketing as determined by Zenellis Enterprises, unquote."

"For ideas I came up with," I said.

Saroya waved the document. "There's no such qualification. So, if you'd rather lose your five percent-"

I glanced back at Letti. The idea of having sex with her wasn't distasteful. We were just being thrown together in such a casual way. Shouldn't a student of the Kama Sutra like Saroya understand the necessity of foreplay?

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