A family was celebrating their kid’s birthday at the side table; there seemed to be no end to congratulations and presents. The happy dad was recording it all on his iPhone, making comments at the top of his voice and interviewing each guest.
It had been going on for an hour, distracting her, while she needed to concentrate. “Can they stay quiet? Why don’t they celebrate at home?” she thought in frustration, picked up her cup and moved into a remote corner. After that, she asked the waitress for another coffee, exhaled and went on thinking.
“What should I do?” she tried to figure out over the fifth cup of coffee. “To surrender or to attack? I have no time to lose. I must act, and I only have two options. He can fire my husband any day now. Then I will have to do all the proving. Which is not easy. I have nothing against him. Nothing! None of the conversations have been recorded, there’s not a thing I can prove verbally… He can always say it was a misinterpretation, all he had in mind was the good of the company…”
In search for a solution, she kept turning the whole story over in her memory; the more she thought about it, the better she realized that she was cornered and needed to act right away.
That’s what had happened.
Her husband was the head of a department in a large trading company. He’d been working there for fifteen years, making a steady career and getting promoted. Skies looked bright, life was happy. They were thinking about having a second child, got a mortgage on a large house. Then a minor glitch came. His husband’s boss, the company’s VP, spotted her at a corporate party. Initially she didn’t take his hints seriously, and didn’t say a word to his husband. He was a fairly jealous guy, she didn’t want to upset him.
Yet at the next corporate event the boss became more persuasive and made it clear that he fancied her. Naturally, she sent him packing and, once again, decided against saying anything to her husband; he’d been having heart problems recently.
A couple days later her husband came home from work looking pale. For the first time in his fifteen years with the company, he got a reproof. An official one, with a threat of dismissal; the reason was far-fetched, it was none of his fault that the deal hadn’t worked, he was just in charge of the paperwork.
Actually, corporate events were quite popular at his company. The owners believed in team spirit, and arranged a party at least twice a month; there was always something to celebrate.
She ran into the boss at yet another get-together. “Didn’t you change your mind?” he asked casually, but with an evil smile. She didn’t get his point right away, just shook her head.
She got it a couple of days later, though, when her husband came home, looking even paler. Another reproof, this time a serious one, the kind you get before being fired. Once again, the reason was far-fetched, he was not directly responsible for the thing that had gone wrong. Yet there was no way to prove otherwise, the company’s strategy was fairly sophisticated; besides, there was no one to back him up – the owners had created a power vertical with no room for democracy. It was easier to run the business that way.
“Well, didn’t you change your mind?” she heard at the next event; the remark was followed by an explicit gaze down her décolleté; the boss was a ruthless predator, driving his prey to exhaustion. She was cornered, with no chance to escape.
The one thing she wanted to do was to spit him in the face, but she retained her control. The stakes were too high, and spitting would mean a defeat. Her husband’s career, their wellbeing, the mortgage, the plans to have a second child… all would go up in the air. If he got fired, they would be stuck, he would never be able to find a similar job, not with the crisis and downsizing.
Without saying a word, she walked away, and left with her husband as soon as possible. She just couldn’t stand the VP’s lusty gazes.
Telling her husband the truth was out of the question. He already was on medication, for his career and their well-being, was up in the air.
His trouble at work was far from over; he got blamed for yet another failure, and even though he had almost nothing to do with the project, it didn’t mend matters, the two previous reproofs had already ruined his reputation.
So now she was sitting in the café and thinking that she was the one to make the decision; her husband had nothing to do with it.
Luckily, the birthday party was about to leave, and the place went quiet.
“Will you send me the recording, Johnny?” the birthday boy’s grandma kept blabbering. “To my email, will you, sonny?”
“No, mom, the file’s too big, it won’t work. I’ll copy it on the flesh card, and Victor will bring it over.”
“Just make sure you don’t forget,” clacked the old lady, and the door slammed shut.
Thank God, she exhaled. Good riddance. Gave me a headache... Well, I have to act. Before it’s too late, I can’t postpone it any more. I’ll put a voice recorder into my bag and go see the swine, she finally decided, going back to her thoughts. I’ll make him do some frank talking, and then corner him. Once he receives a copy of the recording, he will quickly change his mind. He might very well end up in prison. It happens all the time.
She signed up for an appointment with the boss, and began to make the necessary preparations. To make him swallow the bait and provoke him into harassment, she had to look seductive and she was good at it. A push-up bra, a large décolleté, a short clingy skirt, provocative makeup. The boss’s secretary stared at her with gaping mouth as she walked into his office.
He was happy to see her, and didn’t bother to conceal it. Standing up from the table, he walked up to her, shook her hand, greeted her cordially, looked searchingly into her eyes, offered her a seat, pulled up the chair. He seemed to be rubbing his hands inwardly, even though he was not as yet sure if he got his catch.
She pretended to be happy to see him too, flashed a smile, caught his eye, asked for the permission to charge her phone, took a seat in front of him and crossed her legs.
His glanced at her knee; it was a good moment to start talking.
Ten minutes later he dismissed the secretary, closed the door – it was Friday night – and five minutes later asked, looking at her bag, “What kind of bag is this? A Dior? May I take a look?”
“Sure!” she said, handing it over; what else was she to do?
“Quite an interesting model…” he said, turning it over. “I have never seen one like it. And what a lovely clasp! How do you open it, I wonder? Will you show?”
“Certainly.” She took the bag and opened it. “Like that.”
“Well, well…” He picked up the bag again.
Having opened it, he calmly extracted the recorder, switched it off and put it back in the bag. Red in the face, she didn’t know where to look.
“Never mind,” said the boss with a caustic smile. He seemed to enjoy her unease. “I would have done the same for an important interview. But it won’t work here. It’s our corporate rule, not mine. No recording. The competitors are always out there, you know.”
“Yes… I see…” she stammered.
“Take a seat here, in this chair,” he said, pointing to a row of low chairs by the coffee table. “I will remain standing, with your permission. I’ve been down on my butt for the whole day. Now’s a good time to tone it a little.”
“Yes…” she said, forcing out a smile and lowering herself into the chair.
“Feel at home. I’m delighted to see you and look forward to our conversation.” Squeezing his butt in a humorous way, the boss stood in front of her, supporting himself against his desk. He was obviously in great spirits. Unlike her.
Still blushing, she sat in the chair with her legs tucked in, feeling like a rabbit in front of a boa constrictor. Her tight skirt crawled up in this uncomfortable position, for the chair was low and, pressing her legs tightly together, she had to lean forward, to make sure that her panties didn’t show from under the skirt. It was a most ridiculous situation. His hands crossed on his chest, the boss was standing in front of her, smiling and looking down into her décolleté. She felt she was about to jeopardize her mission.
“You look great today!” he said, smacking his lips. “You always look nice, but today… I’m delighted…”
“Well… you don’t really have to…” she said, trying to bring him back to reason.
“Would you like a drink to get relaxed?” asked the boss with a smile, ignoring her words. His smile was patronizing, he felt on top of the situation and didn’t bother to conceal it. “It’s the end of the day, why not? Are you driving?”
“No, I’m not,” she muttered, perplexed, feeling like a trapped little bird.
“Great! I’ll have one too.” He opened his mini bar. “What would you prefer? Wine, cognac, whiskey?”
“But… I say!” she said, trying to stand her ground.
“Sure! Say whatever you want!” Checking the glasses against the light, he didn’t even look in her direction. He was busy selecting the drinks. Or at least that’s what it looked like.
“This thing with my husband…”
“What sort of thing?” He was obviously playing fool.
“Well, the thing… The two reproofs… and now…”
“Ah, I see your point,” he muttered reluctantly. The week was almost over, and she was bothering him with all that nonsense. Ye tried to convey that much. He winced, as if from toothache, and poured her some cognac.
“I’m offering you cognac. Select brand, twenty five years. I got it as a gift. Please, try it. I want to know your opinion.”
He approached her and handed over the glass, staring openly inside her blouse. He was not even trying to conceal his interest.
What a damn fool I was to dress so! she cursed inwardly; she knew full well that, towering over her, he had excellent view of her breasts.
Trying to suppress her embarrassment, she took the glass and sipped some cognac. It burned her throat, she choked. Yet she needed a distraction to regain her control. The episode with the recorder put her off the track… And the game the VP was playing… It was enough to get anyone perplexed.
“Sniff it first. What a bouquet!” Leaning on the table, he lifted the glass to his nose, narrowed his eyes in bliss. He seemed to enjoy the situation and was beyond pretending.
“It is… very good,” she forced out, exhaling; she couldn’t think about alcohol right now. “So… What about my husband…”
“The guy’s up to his neck in shit,” summarized the boss, sipping his drink calmly. “It happens.”
“What do you mean… up to his neck?” she asked, stunned by the tone of his voice.
“He’s not made for this position. Besides, we’re downsizing. That’s the way things are.”
“What d’you mean… downsizing?” she stammered, even though she knew full well what he was driving at.
“I mean what I mean. The market is low. Everyone’s downsizing. And he’s doing shit. Once, twice…”
“It was… none of his fault…”
“Possibly… What’s the point of arguing? Tomorrow’s the meeting where we’ll make the decision.”
“Which means… my timing’s right,” she said pensively.
“Sort of,” said the boss, narrowing his eyes cynically. “Have another drink. You seem to be nervous.”
“I guess I need it… you really put me off balance.” She swallowed the last drops of her cognac. In one gulp. That’s not the way to drink it, and her eyes swelled with tears. Yet she needed the gulp quite badly, like a boxer needs a sniff of ammonia after a knockout.
“That’s bold,” said the boss, looking at her with a smile. “Would you like some more?”
“Yes,” she exhaled and nodded. “You’ve managed to get me… quite nervous.”
“I didn’t intend to,” chuckled the boss, leaning closer with the bottle; once again she saw how his eyes devoured her breasts.
Plan B? rushed through her head. It won’t work otherwise. Do I have a choice? The game’s almost over… He will fire my husband… Even before taking the final decision, she lifted her breasts a little higher, starting a different game. It just happened.
The boss spotted it and smiled; it was a predatory smile. She noticed it as she took her glass. She noticed and realized that she was at a point of no return, since he had swallowed the bait.
Maybe… somehow… she thought hopefully, not having much hope. She was clear about it.
The VP noticed that she was ready to surrender, and began mounting his pressure.
“You know, here…” he said, taking another sip from his glass and fixing her with his gaze, “we’re by no means democratic. First, we give a hint. Then, we give a warning… And then we say goodbye…”
She could see clearly what he was driving at, she remembered all those “didn’t you change your mind?” She saw it all, and downed another drink. She was beyond doubts and hopes.
“Are you making all those decisions?” she asked, looking him in the eye and throwing her leg higher, so that her skirt crept up, exposing her panties. “Since you’re not democratic. Is it up to you?”
“Of course,” he said with an arrogant smile, licking her legs with his eye.
“Meaning, if I change my mind my hubby would get a chance? If I accept your proposal...” Looking him in the eye, she began to fumble at yet another button on her blouse. She had already undone the first one.
“Looks like we understand each other,” smiled the boss, shifting his gaze from her legs to her fingers. “You now know that I’m the decision-maker.”
“Could I have some more?” she asked, stretching out her glass; when he turned for the bottle, she quickly undid the button.
“Aha!” burst out the VP when he turned back with the bottle and saw the button undone. “That’s better.”
“Such are your terms, eh?” She reached for the next button. “Otherwise my hubby doesn’t stand a chance. Is that right?”
“You’re a smart girl. I like it.”
The boss glanced at his watch and, with a smile of approval, poured her more cognac.
Her eye fell on the bulge on his pants; the plot was unravelling, she had to go into action.
She swallowed more cognac. A hot wave ran downwards, hit her brain. Plan B! No other chances. He clearly told me that there’s no time left.
“Right here?” Looking him in the eye, she slowly undid another button.
“The meeting is tomorrow. If I were you, I won’t waste any time.”
With a wordless smile, she stretched out her hand with the glass; once he began to pour, she placed another hand on his crotch.
“See, we have an agreement. Keep going.” He smiled smugly, standing right next to her and looking down. While she unbuttoned his fly, he pulled down her bra and began to squeeze her breasts.
She extracted his erect penis, reached for it with her mouth, then paused suddenly.
“No, I can’t,” she said, shrinking back. “I really can’t.”
“What do you mean?” roared the boss. “Your husband will be out tomorrow! Tomorrow!”
“But... why?” she whined. “Why?”
“Because he will be fucking out!” The boss was furious. “It’s your last chance. Open your mouth!”
Whimpering, she began to suck, for she had no other choice.
“That’s better... Why all that nonsense...” The VP moaned, looking pleased. “You’re... good at it. Real good...”
While she was sucking him, she still hoped that she might not have to go any further – she was an expert in blowjobs. It didn’t work, though, he had his own plan; soon enough she was lying supine on his desk.
Her skirt was pushed up, her panties removed; her legs were on his shoulders, and he was breathing hoarsely. His fucking was avid and vigorous, while she tried to concentrate on her husband. What else would you expect a lady in dire straits to do…
“Ah! Oh! Oi!” she gasped with each thrust, for he was fucking her vigorously.
“What would you expect? Eh? What?” roared the VP, pushing hard. “Want to help your husband? Spread your legs! There! There! There!” He kept accelerating, and finally came. Gasping and shuddering, he plunged all the way in, pressing her into the tabletop and making it creak.
After a pause, the boss slowly withdrew, took off the con and stretched indulgently.
“This was good. Don’t worry about your husband.”
She jumped down to the floor, adjusted her clothes, gave him a silent smile, collected her bag, unplugged her iPhone and walked out.
On the next day, the secretary handed the VP an envelope, signed Strictly Confidential. He chuckled, took a seat by his desk, opened the envelope, extracted a flash card, turned it around in his hands and read the note.
Rumours have it that you planned to resign and move out of town. They also have it that the President wanted you to find a replacement. At our meeting yesterday you hinted that my husband deserves a promotion. You don’t need to think twice about it. I will help you to make him accept the offer.
Just in case, I include the recording of our interview.
PS. You might enjoy reading the article that I also include. Unfortunately, since you were short of time, we had no chance to discuss it. If you feel like it, we can meet again, even though I will come with my lawyer.
His hands shaking, he put the note aside, and glanced through the article from Washington Post. He had heard about the affair. The General Manager of a major corporation was being accused of sexual harassment; his sentence were five years in jail.
The article went blurred in his eyes.
Remember that sexual harassment, violence and enforced sex are heavily penalized! These crimes can have very serious legal consequences. Remember it’s a made-up story, to facilitate the mental adjustment to a role playing game that adult people play together on a voluntary basis. Never try to do it in real life. It’s absolutely prohibited!
This story is a part of Looking Through the Curtains Collection of erotic short stories. The series of these Collections includes 200 stories, none of them for the minors.
200 illustrated sex stories that will wake up your erotic fantasies.
The Series is divided into 8 Collections; each Collection includes 25 short stories.
200 illustrated sex stories that will wake up your erotic fantasies.
The Series is divided into 8 Collections; each Collection includes 25 short stories.
Combination of hot eroticism with modern philosophy. It arouses, excites and opens up your mind. I deliberately provoke my readers.read more
Sex and self-improvement, intimate life and health, relations with opposite sex and wellbeing. Essays and reviews on the most topical issues.