Secretarial Duties 2 - Party with the Boss - Sex Stories

Secretarial Duties 2 - Party with the Boss

... of hand cuffs and a Wartenberg wheel. She was really looking forward to a night together. As Patricia stepped out of the restroom, she nearly bumped into Mitch Johnson, Barry's superior's superior. “Ah, hello, Mr. Johnson. Nice to see you.” “Hello, Patricia. I want to have a word with you. Would you come to my office, please?” That was odd. Mr. Johnson rarely exchanged more than mere pleasantries with Patricia. Actually, come to think of it, this was very odd. “Certainly, Mr. Johnson.” They walked together in silence, excepting the click of Patricia's heels on the marble. Mr. Johnson's office was two floors up; the elevator ride was likewise silent, a bit awkward. Unlike Barry, Mr. Johnson did not hold the door for her. She was too low on the ladder to warrant such consideration. Entering the office, she was surprised to see Royce Reynolds, the VP for finance, and two men she didn't recognize already present. She noted that they were holding drinks, and that Mr. Johnson's private bar was open. “Watch the monitor, Patricia.” Mr. Johnson walked over to his desk and typed something. The wall-mounted display flickered to life. Patricia's eyes widened as she watched herself sucking Barry's cock, replaying their encounter. From the angle, it appeared to taken by a camera about desk-level. “Patricia, I know about your affair with Krushank. You and I know that's grounds for termination. But firing you would be a terrible waste. You're a productive employee. And you're a damned sexy ...

... woman. I think you're smart enough to negotiate a mutually satisfying arrangement.” Patricia contained her surprise, and quietly surveyed the room. Johnson, the company's rapidly rising star, was maybe forty-five, reasonably good looking, and in good shape. Supposedly he was an avid tennis player. Certainly, he was trimmer than most of the office men. Reynolds was probably in his late fifties, had a bit of a spare tire, but was well-groomed and wore very expensive-looking clothing. Of the other two men, one was watching her with intense interest, leering at her and periodically licking his thick lips. Appearing to be about sixty, he was a big man, overweight, heavy-boned, sweating, the collar of his expensive shirt unbuttoned, and his silk tie loosely knotted. Altogether an unkempt, almost slovenly appearance. The last man was perhaps fifty-five, rather thin, almost severe. Calm, he also watched with interest, but clearly dispassionately as if constantly taking her measure, assessing her strengths, judging her weaknesses. Somehow, he made her think of an undertaker. Still silent, Patricia realized she was feeling a familiar tingle in her groin. She was caught, powerless except to the extent that she could manipulate these men to her will. The tingling became a warm flush, and she could feel herself getting wet. She lowered her head, not out of deference although the motion gave that impression, but rather to hide the sly smile she couldn't contain. This was possibly going to ...