2 comments/ 74477 views/ 3 favorites The Headhunter By: DonnyDickson Another potential contract meant another dreaded interview. I hate interviews, but they are a necessary evil of working under the many short-term contracts I have to take on in my business as a hacker-for-hire. Yeah, I'm one of the lucky guys that actually get paid to see if I can break into a company's computer database and thwart their security systems. But, to run my business as a business means I have to actually deal face to face with my potential employers instead of relaxing behind the comfort of my computer keyboard. The first meeting with Mr. Decker was bad enough. I got through that okay, but then there were two more longer interviews, both of them videotaped, and now the old guy wanted to meet me over a late dinner to finalize our agreement. Oh, well... I guess I could put up with some more scrutinizing for a free meal in a nice restaurant. Dinner and a job offer; I could do worse. Standing nearly in the center of the hotel lobby, I looked around and saw no sign of the 50-something businessman I sort of knew as Edward Decker. I then took a look at my cell phone to check for possible missed calls and for the time. 9:37. I was told to meet the guy here at 9:30. Maybe this was a part of the interview - I couldn't help but feel I was being watched – and that my hiring was contingent on how I handled the wait. Or maybe Decker wasn't planning on hiring me and I was being stood up and not sized up. I removed my lucky Red Sox cap and wiped a bit of nervous sweat from my brow, then replaced the cap. Wearing this old ball cap in this 4-star hotel was supposed to be my identifier should my face not immediately provide recognition in this follow-up interview... again, provided the guy actually showed up. "Excuse me?" asked a female voice from behind me. I turned around to look for the source of the voice. The only person who seemed to be approaching me was an attractive, sharply dressed woman in her 40s, probably near my mom's age, I guessed. Her hair was a very pale blonde, almost white actually, that hung just below her shoulders. She was shapely and buxom, with dancing eyes and a sure smile. She looked about 5'5", her frame was wrapped in a soft blue dress, attractively cut to show off her cleavage, clinging to soft curves on her body and swaying just slightly as she walked. "Yes?" I replied, removing my hat and instinctively smoothing my hair. "You're here to see Edward Decker?" she asked. "Hoping to." "Sorry to keep you waiting. I'm Charlene Decker," she said as she extended her hand graciously. "I'm Edward's wife and, well, hiring director," she said with a hint of laughter. "Hiring director?" I asked, taken slightly aback. "Hiring Director, Headhunter... the titles are many, but no one hires on here without my approval," she said, flatly. She gave me a looking over from head to toe, and back again. When her eyes met mine once more, she smiled slyly. "You're too attractive to be a computer geek." "I'm flattered," I responded as best I could, feeling more than a little stunned by her assessment. "You were expecting maybe a guy with taped-up horn-rimmed glasses, pocket protector, and a case of acne that looked like a relief map of the moon?" She let out with a genuine laugh, one that seemed to light up the room. In that moment Mrs. Decker went from attractive to stunning in my eyes as I watched her body move under that blue dress from her laughter. When her laughter subsided, her eyes fixed on mine again. "Okay, let's strike that stereotype from my mind," she said with one last giggle. "I'm a nerd by trade," I said, "not by design." "Edward said you were different, that I would really like you," she nodded, punctuated with another sweep of her eyes over me. "The video from your interviews reinforced that opinion." "Yeah, but the video added 10 pounds to my physique, right?" I asked with a roll of my eyes. "Your physique looks just fine." Motioning to a set of chrome doors in the lobby, she said, "The restaurant is up these elevators." We wandered over and I pressed the request button. I looked into the mirror-like chrome of the elevator doors and could clearly see Mrs. Decker giving me a once-over yet again. And, I could swear that she was undoing the button at the top of her dress. Whether it was something she did intentionally or absent-mindedly, the extra cleavage revealed by her move was a pleasant sight. The few people waiting for an elevator stepped into the first one that arrived. I was about to join them when Mrs. Decker softly grabbed my arm and shook her head. At that moment the elevator doors before us opened and we stepped into the lift and waited to see if anyone else was joining us. As the doors closed Mrs. Decker pressed the button for the restaurant level and we began our ascent. Feeling a need to make some sort of conversation, I made a remark about the stop button on the panel and rhetorically asked why anyone needs to stop an elevator in mid-trip, anyway. Mrs. Decker shrugged and said, "What the fuck...", and punched the button! The elevator lurched and came to a dead stop. Mrs. Decker didn't really look all that concerned when she looked back at me and smiled slyly. "Well... it's pushed!" Maybe it was the suddenness of the move, or maybe it was the sudden scent of Mrs. Decker's perfume that seemed to come out of nowhere, but my mind was definitely reeling at the moment. She then stepped right up to me and slipped her arms around me, cupping my ass cheeks in her hands. "You want to unpush it?" she whispered to me. If there had been only a hint to the self-assuredness of Mrs. Decker, there was no doubt to it now. This stunning older woman was taking control of my senses. A brief thought of fucking my bosses' wife before he was even my boss raced through my mind. Maybe this was part of my test and I wouldn't get the job if I took the bait? Fuck it, this moment with this woman was worth passing up the job. I looked into her eyes and swept her up into my arms and drew her against me. She offered no resistance as our lips met and quickly opened to exchange tongues and a taste of passion. Our hands slid over each other as our lips remained locked together, pulling each other tighter. I let my hands glide over Mrs. Decker's shapely butt, marveling at the smoothness of the dress over her ass flesh. "Commando," she whispered as she pulled back from our kiss. "Huh?" She took one of my hands in hers as she lifted up her dress slightly with her other hand. Turning my hand over at the wrist, she guided me and placed it against tuft of pubic hair made available because of the absence of panties. "I'm traveling Commando tonight," she softly repeated as her lips returned to mine while I began to freely explore the source of heat and fire between her legs. As our tongues began to explore each others' mouths again, my fingers began their exploration of her soft, velvet labia, nearly dripping with juices of anticipation. If this was only a test that I was tempted to fail, she was making the examination totally worthwhile! I held her with one hand at the small of her back while I massaged her drenched pussy in the other, prompting her to moan softly into my mouth. She responded in kind, while one of her hands began to massage the length of my growing excitement through my jeans and her other hand began to work on undoing buttons of my 501's with deliberate patience. Once she managed to free me of my buttoned restraint, she reached into my jeans and withdrew my engorged cock, massaging it in her hand and making me return the moans through our continuing kiss. She drew away from me, looking down at my raging manhood in her hand. Her smile brightened when I took the liberty of licking my fingers, savoring her sweet cunt juices. "Dinner in a minute," she said, "but first things first..." Mrs. Decker turned her back to me and hiked her dress up around her hips, exposing a very shapely ass and legs, well belying her age. Her thighs were taut, and the soft bulge of her calves melted down into the stiletto-heeled shoes that graced her feet. With absolutely no hint of shyness, she bent over and grabbed the rail of the elevator wall, poking her ass out at me and baring her spread labia. This was not an invitation, it was a demand. I took the hint and got up behind her as I dropped my pants to my knees. I slightly bent my legs to get my hips level with hers, my cock standing out before me like an arrow. I took hold of one of her hips to steady my target and using my other hand to guide me, I nestled the head of my prick low into the waiting crevice below her exposed ass hole. Immediately I could feel the heat of her hungry nest, literally drawing me in. I moved forward... Having always assumed for some stupid reason or another that older women were dried-up sloppy fucks, I couldn't believe how exquisite were the sensations I encountered as I gradually eased my cock deeper into Mrs. Decker's drenched pussy, feeling it clamp around me firmly like a velvet vice. As I reached the hilt, she squealed slightly, and then let out a held breath once she was fully impaled upon my shaft. I took a soft hold of both of her hips and began to slide in and out of her heated canal with dedicated motions. I pulled just to the edge of falling from her sweet tunnel and then pushed my dick slowly back into her as deeply as I could. "Fuck, you're good," she murmured. "Most young men aren't so patient." She was only half-right if she thought that my painstaking strokes were based upon patience. Nor were they for her benefit alone. No, I wanted to savor every bit of her tender flesh as much as I could. I was finally finding out first-hand all that I had been missing by my not having taken advantage of an older woman's charms in my past. This woman in particular would become a benchmark by which I would judge my future lovers. I admired her smooth, fleshy ass as I watched my cock disappear into her. I could feel her fingertips brushing my testicles from between her legs and realized that she was massaging her clit while I fucked her from behind. As much as I wanted to take my time thrusting into her and marveling in the near-perfect fit of my cock within her pussy, I could sense that she was reaching a point in her massage of her stiffened little bud that was going to quickly take us both to the end of our journey. The metal rail Mrs. Decker held for our support began to squeak as we quickened the pace of our fucking. Her hips rocked back to meet my pelvic thrusts while her fingers worked her clit and my cock seemed to somehow reach deeper into her as her sugar walls tightened around my meat. She groaned and her knees went a little wobbly as she began to climax in waves that I could feel in my body as well. My self-control now gone, I began to pump a little harder with each thrust of my dick. I was nearly to the point of bursting when she suddenly disengaged from me and turned swiftly, dropping to her knees and taking my cock into her mouth just as I began to cum. She drove her mouth onto my prick, its sensitive head surely pushing into her throat. She seemed to turn into a starving whore determined to suck the very life out of me through my cock and balls. Every muscle within me seemed to turn to stone until my legs turned to rubber as I exploded deep into her suckling mouth, flooding her throat with my hot cream. Even as my torrents faded, she continued to lavish her delirious oral attentions upon my member to the point that I could give no more and thought I would faint. She finally let my spent member fall from her wonderful lips and got back to her feet, helping me pull my jeans back up along the way, tucking my limp prick back into my pants and even buttoning them for me. Mrs. Decker then smiled slyly at me as she smoothed out her dress while I labored to catch my breath. "You are amazing." I croaked between breaths. "Thank you," she replied softly as she kissed me once more. She calmly turned and hit the button to restart the elevator back, adding, "I had to drink you. I couldn't very well have you dripping down my legs over dinner, could I?" "There's still dinner?" "Of course," she said, as she reached over in a motherly fashion and smoothed my shirt over the waist of my jeans. "Was that part of the interview?" I asked, only half in jest. "Pass or fail?" "Oh, you passed," she replied, grinning. "Like I said, all hires have to go through me first. So, you still want the job?" "Uh, yeah! Now even more, I guess!" I answered all too quickly. "Good. Consider yourself hired. That is," she said as she reached down and gave my cock one more squeeze through my jeans, "if you're willing to accept a few perks." As the floor chime rang, I whispered, "So, was that an appetizer?" "Mine, anyway." Mrs. Decker answered with another of her tempting smiles. "And, if you're feeling up to it, after dinner you can have me for dessert!" "So, does part of my interview also entail looking confidently into my new bosses' eyes after I just fucked his wife?" I asked as the elevator doors opened. "Oh, he's not going to be here. He already gave me his approval of you. You just had to pass my interview." Feeling suddenly emboldened from the whole experience I stepped confidently from the elevator and followed my REAL boss into the restaurant. Written by Donny Dickson The Headhunter Mistress It had started with a phone call. I was at work when my office line rang. "This is John." "Hey John, this is Miss Sinclaire. I was recently referred to you. I'm just calling to introduce myself." "Oh, uhm hello." "Full disclosure," she laughed. "I'm part of an executive search firm. I'm sure you're happy and successful and not actively looking for a change. But, I wonder.... Would you ever consider making a move for the right reasons?" I said no. She said coyly, "tell me you wouldn't consider making a move for the wrong reasons?" I laughed, "actually I'm at work." "Of course," she said. "give me a better number to reach you after work." I hesitated for just one second... but there was something about the way she asked. But she didn't ask. She just spoke, expecting me to comply. I thought about hanging up right then, but there was something about this woman's voice on the other line. After all, I perhaps I could use a job change. This job was fine. But, what if there was another job that suited me better... I gave her my cell phone number. "Good boy," she purred. "I'll call you after work sometime. And she hung up. Once five o'clock hit, I was staring at my phone just waiting for it to ring. But it didn't. It didn't ring that night, and it didn't ring the following night. It was a whole week before I got a call from her office. It wasn't her, but a man from her office. He was calling to set up a time for me to meet Miss Sinclaire in her office. I was irritated that she didn't call me herself. Why was another man calling me? Why didn't she call me? It didn't take that long. I couldn't believe my anxiety. What had happened that I wanted to speak to the woman on the other end of the line so desperately. I took a breath, trying to calm myself down, and then set a time with the man. Two days later I was in her office. The male secretary out front told me to wait in the front area. He asked if I'd like any coffee, water? I politely declined and sat down in the waiting room. I waited for fifteen minutes. I thought about asking the secretary if Miss Sinclaire was out, wondering if I should come back. But I decided to give Miss Sinclaire a few more minutes. Perhaps she was busy. I sat in the plush leather chairs, waiting. Fifteen minutes later Miss Sinclaire emerged from the hallway, reaching out her hand. "Mr. Smith?" She said. "Pleasure to meet you." "Thank you," I said shaking her hand. "Follow me." She took the lead down the hallway. I tried not to notice her incredible figure, as she walked down the length of the hallway to the executive suite towards the back. She opened the door, gestured for me to sit. She stood over me, waiting for me to sit. I sat down. She walked behind my desk, almost inspecting me, and then she sat down across from me, on the other side of a large mahogany desk. "I'm glad you could make it," she said. I looked up, as if caught off guard. "Yes," I said. Was I stammering? If I wasn't careful, I'd be hypnotized by her figure. Something about the way she demanded attention. "Vice President of Operations," she said. "That's me." "Do you make over two hundred thousand dollars?" "Not yet." "Why not?" "I... well, I don't know." "Perhaps that's part of the problem." "What do you mean?" "If you're going to rise, you have to be able to make decisions... but it doesn't seem like you can." "I can, I do. I think I do a pretty good job of managing everything I need to do." "Perhaps it would be better if you managed less." "I don't understand." "Perhaps if you could focus your efforts on just one thing, you'd be able to get more done." " That would be great." "Then it's settled. I have the perfect job for you." "Really? Don't you want to know what I do." "Not really. " I hesitated. "What kind of job." "You're going to be my new Executive Assistant." "Excuse me?" "You just said it yourself, you have far too many things to focus on. Now I'm going to give you one thing to focus on. Me." "I'm an executive Vice President, I'm not going to quit my job to become an executive assistant." "You don't think you would like serving me?" The way she said it. I was getting hard. I couldn't believe it. I had to retain my focus. "It's not that I don't like... I mean... it's not that..." "Did I say quit your job?" "No...." I stammered. "No you're going to have two jobs. Your first job is to be my executive assistant, and your second job is to be the executive vice president." "I have responsibilities..." "What if I could promise you that you would achieve more at your current job, if you could make more money than you've every made, if you would just do what I say?" "I don't... know." "You can feel it. This is what you've been looking for hasn't it?" I tried to look away from her eyes. "Uhm... I don't..." "You've been searching for something to submit to.... To serve, haven't you?" "I..." And then she turned off the seductive charm. "I'm thirsty. Be a good boy and fetch me some water over there." I instinctively got up and walked across the office and returned to her with a glass of water. "Set it down," she said. And I did. "There... do you see how easy it was?" I couldn't believe I just went and did it without question. "You see how every part of you wants to give up control, and just serve?" I wanted to argue with her. I wanted to step back into my role as the big man, as the Vice President... but something just felt so warm and comfortable around me. She got up and walked towards me, sitting on the desk in front of me. Her nylon stockings stretched over her fantastic legs. She crossed them in front of me. I felt entranced. Like a dog just waiting for his master to drop down a treat. "What if all I ever asked you to do was something that brought you pleasure?" "I don't understand." "What if, by serving me, you experienced more pleasure than you had ever experienced in your life. As if.... You became the thing you were destined to be. Like a child coming home." "More money than I've ever made?" "Infinitely more." "What would you have me do?" "All sorts of things. Things that brought me pleasure. And because they brought me pleasure, they would bring you pleasure." "What if I told you to unzip your pants and start stroking?" "Excuse me?" "You don't find me attractive?" "Yes, but..." "Then do it," she said. "Take it out and stroke it." For a moment I hesitated, but my hands involuntarily were reaching for my zipper. "Wait," she snapped. "Not there... do it properly. Get on your knees." She touched the top of my head. Her touch was like getting a high. She put just the tiniest amount of pressure on my head and I slid off the chair and dropped to my knees. "There you go, that's a good boy. Stroke it for me." I sat there, on my knees, stroking myself, looking up at her. "This is where you belong, you realize." "Yes," I grunted. "You feel good?" Looking up at her tall legs, wishing I could see underneath her skirt, looking up at her figure from below, towering over me, how could I not feel good. "Yes!" I said, with a loud sound that surprised even myself. "You realize that once you come, you'll stop being a man. When you come here, and offer your cum to me, you'll stop being a man. You'll just be a boy. My good boy. You understand?" I wanted to stop. I wanted to have control. But something was slipping away from me. A warm haze took over my body and all I wanted was to keep going. To keep stroking. To keep obeying. "Yes," I said. "You're not a man, are you?" "No," I grunted. "But you're my good boy." "Yes." "Now cum," she said. And instantly, as if I had no control over my body, I ejaculated onto the floor at her feet. This must be what heroin addicts feel like when they get a hit. My eyes rolled back up into my head, my vision cloudy. I felt Miss Sinclaire put her hand next to my face and whisper softly, "You belong to me now." The following morning I was emailed a conference number to call into and I called in at 7:30am, sharp. I was the fourth person to enter the conference line. Moments later, after there were ten or so people on the line I realized that I wasn't alone. This was a weekly conference call with all of Miss Sinclaire's Executive Assistants from around the world calling to report in, give status updates, and take orders. During the call I was given an assignment to perform that day before the next conference call. I hung up the phone with a mixture of anxiety, terror, and excitement. What had I done? What world was I entering. I could barely contain myself as I went about my day with clarity and purpose.