2 comments/ 50708 views/ 4 favorites Employee of the Month By: lyntess Mark's the sort of man you can't help but want to tie down and gag. He's clean shaven, nicely dressed and well mannered with slight build and quick eyes—ah, but that Mr. Brady routine is just a front. The man is actually a tightly wound ball of futile energy and repressed urges. I think he only shaves his head to keep from tearing his hair out in frustration. After a while, his manic approach to life in general makes you want to push him down, sit on his legs and scream, "BE STILL!" It makes it worse that he is a manager in a busy restaurant—a busy restaurant in a chain of busy restaurants geared towards cheap, picky people (Americans). A million things can go wrong in such a restaurant, and Mark seems to feel that it is his personal responsibility to address every one of those things, every day... whether they actually go wrong or not. "When you get a chance," in Mark-speak translates to: "Now! Now now now, right this very second or something terrible will happen!" Yet, despite (or rather because of) his hyperactive quirkiness and frantic over-management, I want him. I want him the way certain straight women want gay men. A gay man, to some women, is a challenge: a chance to prove the phenomenal power of their own femininity. They want to convert him. And I want to convert Mark. I want to absorb his heartbreaking urgency, to quell his restlessness and soothe his anguish. I wanted to sate his need, once and for all. All right, I simply want to fuck the spastic twitches right out of his pale, tense little body... but that's essentially the same thing. I would start by knocking him out. I haven't yet decided how; I don't want to hurt him or leave him with uncomfortable side effects from a drug—oh, if only he would sit still long enough to hypnotize! In any case, once he was unconscious I would take him somewhere—I don't know where, or how I'll get him there without anybody knowing. I do know, however, that in my mind's lusty eye, I see him coming slowly awake to find himself lying propped up more or less comfortably on a semi-soft surface, with limbs bound and eyes covered, unaware of where he was or how he got there. He would yell at first, I think. Anyone would be fearful in such a position, let alone an obsessive compulsive tight-laced manager in his mid thirties. Gradually he would notice the music playing in the background; piano, soothing and unfamiliar. The temperature, he would find, is just high enough that struggling makes him sweat, but low enough to be pleasant when lying still. Perhaps he would even pick up the faint scent of lavender and eucalyptus in the warm air (my body lotion). In any case, after a while, his yells would cease and he would lie quietly, tugging experimentally at his restraints. And this is where my fantasy begins in earnest... __________________________ "Hi there," I whispered, perching on a stool beside my helpless manager. I placed a finger delicately on his pale throat and lightly teased his Adam's apple, making him swallow involuntarily. He pursed his lips thoughtfully as his fear drained away. I knew what he was thinking: "Is it my ex? Or the ex before that-- It must be her. But I thought she moved to Delaware. Maybe she got somebody else to do this. Maybe it's co-manager Beth. Oh God, what if it is her? We can't socialize out of work! I was only flirting! But she wouldn't do this. Would she?" At any rate, he was beginning to sense that there is something special in store for him, though he still had no idea just how special it will be. It was difficult for me to stay calm—finally having him under my control was even more of a thrill than I had expected. I hoped his body, strained with anxiety and achingly sensitive due to his inability to see, would react of its own accord to the hungry pheromones streaming from my pores. The bare beginnings of an erection lifted the crotch of his gray work pants just slightly, and the finger I was trailing against his gulping throat paused, sorely tempted by this tentative bulge. I drew a steadying breath and moved upwards instead. "Oh, Mark," I whispered, my voice breathy and, to him, unidentifiable. He strained to hear, trying to know who had him held captive. "I just want you to relax." I rested a hand lightly on his close-shaven head for a moment, willing him to surrender, then walked silently away. I nudged the heat and the music up a notch, glancing over to see him shift nervously against his restraints. I returned to my seat at his head and took from my pocket a small bottle of almond oil. Mark stirred, craning his neck towards the sound of my movement. "Who are you?" "Someone you know," I murmured, pouring some of the oil between my palms to warm it. "Don't be afraid." Mark snorted but didn't speak further, resigning himself with a grin. Oh, he was tempting, that "Family Restaurant Fresh" front he always kept up crumbling right before my eyes—the man who ducks out of supermarkets and drug stores if he happens to see one of his workers ("Company policy, we can't socialize out of work!"), the man who flinches at words like "crap", the only man with a To Do List that actually gets done. He was metamorphosing effortlessly into a hungry wolf, and the transformation was utterly delicious to watch. I took his head between my oiled palms, resting the fingertips just lightly on his stubbly scalp. A smile played on his lips, parted slightly below the blindfold. I had wanted to hold him like this for months, and I smiled contentedly as I began to massage. The pressure points at the back of the skull, right above the neck, the temples, the high curved dome, the sinus cavity in the forehead—all the millions of tingling nerves that rarely receive attention in the typical human, I teased them to distraction and left him luxuriously relaxed but sizzling with desire. I worshiped his head with my hands and slow, sure fingers, then bent close and pressed a sighing kiss against his crown. Mark shifted against his restraints, murmuring something I didn't quite catch. The timid bulge in his pants became a powerful pressure, and a flush had crept up his neck. I drifted lower, kissing his ear and nudging against it teasingly; first with my nose and then with my soft, wet tongue. I could hear his breath catch, every sensation heightened by his lack of sight, and an electric thrill slid down my spine. My hands continued their sensuous dance over his pale skin, releasing the tension knots at the base of his neck and conjuring a surprised groan of relief from my captive manager. "Who are you?" he whispered again, his tongue thick and throat dry. "Shhh..." I hissed insidiously, tongue flicking snakelike against the throbbing pulse at his neck. With hands still caressing his scalp lightly, I bent down to kiss his thin lips—so often bent in disapproval, now they were smooth and soft beneath mine, and the all but silent gasp he left in my mouth tasted like sugared sin. I pressed closer, my left hand on his cheek and my right hand grasping his shoulder, and deepened the kiss. A low moan escaped him as he strained to meet me, and I could feel him shaking slightly. I suspected that it had been a long time since someone touched him like this. His strong reaction made me go weak at the knees, and I sighed softly with pleasure as I took the edge off my hunger for his mouth. When I sat up to take a steadying breath, he tossed his head from side to side, trying to remove the blindfold. "Mark, Mark," I said soothingly, still holding his shoulder and disguising my voice. "Just relax, enjoy!" He groaned with frustration, and a petulant frown darkened his face. He was used to being in control, the giver of such attentions, not the recipient—and he knew such firm hands and moist lips would not come from his skinny shrew of a co-manager, Beth. I suppressed a giggle of immoral delight (if any sound would give me away, that would), then stood up and stepped back. He turned his head to follow my movement, tensely flexing his hands beneath the binding. In the little kitchenette, I filled a glass with ice water and selected a straw from a drawer. "Open your mouth." I commanded gently, returning to his side. He hesitated, but complied, and I used the straw to carefully drip some of the water onto his tongue. He relaxed with understanding, gratefully accepting several more straws full of the cooling drops to quench his thirst. His erection had relaxed somewhat, and I decided that couldn't be allowed. I set the glass down and without warning, slid a hand firmly onto his softening bulge; it springs instantly to life against my fingers. Mark gasped, his flesh springing instantly back to life against my fingers as he arched his back with surprise and pleasure. I allowed myself to linger there a while, painstakingly identifying the outline of his hardened cock, and, deeper, the turgid round softness of his sac. "Oh..." he blurted suddenly, his face going beet red. "Oh my God!" He clenched his teeth, his muscles twitching in protest of the restraints and a bead of sweat collecting at the top of his scalp. He hadn't expected such a strong physical reaction, with the blindfold heightening anticipation and the inability to move forcing him to concentrate only on the sensations given to him. He had also not experienced physical release in some time and, as I continued to stroke him, his urgency built. "You all right there, sexy?" I cooed innocently, gripping his now painfully hard cock tightly over his pants. He moaned in response, and continued to do so as my caresses quickened. His hips lifted despite himself, grinding against my touch in a trembling fever of lust. He was rushing towards an orgasm, but I wasn't aware of how close he was getting. I rubbed him firmly, my thumbnail gliding in torturous circles over his sensitive tip—he held his breath and tried to hold back a whimper as his balls began to tighten. Licking my lips, I bent and pressed them against the apex of his pants where I feel the head of his cock. My tongue prodded unmercifully against it, seeking the musty tang of desire leaking through his stifling garment—and Mark gave a small squeak of dismay a second before a throaty grunt. I felt the first violent spurt surge beneath my questing tongue, and with a gasp of delight and surprise I wrapped my lips as tightly as I could around the distended, dampened cloth. The man took a shaky breath, twitching as I continued to mouth his sticky member, and when I looked up at his face it was red with exertion and shame. "Oh Mark, it's just been too long. Don't worry—we have all the time in the world." I said softly, leaning forward to kiss his flushed neck. He didn't reply, so I shrugged to myself and began slowly to pull open his clothing before it got sullied further. He tensed in slight protest, but the room was warm and my hands were sure, and soon he was lying with shirt unbuttoned, pants and cute navy blue underpants slid down to his restrained ankles. I went to the small kitchen again, and returned with a basin of warm water and witch hazel. He shivered as I dipped my hand briefly into the cleansing solution and held it, dripping, over his chest. I continued methodically spattering him with water with one hand, and with the other slowly rubbed the wetness over his skin. I could feel his heart beating rapidly beneath my ministrations, and the tremors of ticklishness in his pale flesh. After completing my cleansing ritual on his upper body, I slid my wet hands down his thighs. Mark arched his back with a gasp. I smiled, then scooped up a palmful of the cooled water. I cradled his semi-soft cock in the tiny pool my hand made, rubbing it slowly with the other. Up and down, dip and drip, soothing his sensitive skin and rinsing away all traces of his seed and sweat. The man moaned quietly, his cock gradually swelling beneath my touch—and when I reached down to wash his saturated scrotum, a groan betrayed his pleasure. I was surprised at his response to being touched in that particular area, but spent a languorously happy time exploring it. I had always loved the way a man's genitals are assembled; so many different textures, features, triggers and secrets! Mark breathed deeply and let a heavy sigh smooth the frown from his face as I played gently with his testes. "That's so good," he murmured, wiggling his toes. "I wish I could show you how good." I kissed the tip of his member, now proudly erect and staring bluntly with its one wet eye at me. "I'm glad it's good, Mark, but I want to make it even better." He flexed his groin in reply, making his hard flesh bob enthusiastically at me while his sac twitched against my fingers. "How?" The impish wolfman had returned, by the tone of his voice, and I licked my lips with anticipation. "Oh, you know how." Quickly, I stood and slid my clothes off. The proximity of his naked flesh had turned my own sex into a slippery, treacherous muddle, and without bothering to explain further, I straddled my timid manager's narrow hips and slid his cock inside me. "Ahh!" Mark gasped, chest heaving up and down. The base of his cock pulsed against my tender, aching clit as I steadied myself with both hands on his waist. My knees braced on either side of him and my legs quivering with eagerness, I raised up until his tip hovered slickly at the entrance to my pussy and bobbed there for a few heartbeats. Mark groaned again, feeling the wetness from me coating his shaft and dripping tantalizingly down his sac. I stayed as I was, teasing us both with shallow jabs of my ravenous hips, until Mark was puffing with frustration and arousal. "Say it," I breathed urgently, rotating my hips counterclockwise so that he could feel the velvety wet walls of my cunt swirling around his throbbing head. "What do you want me to do?" He opened his mouth, then closed it again, face flushing once more. The man who never cursed, alas! I slid a hand between our bodies and gripped the base of his shaft. "What... do you want... me to do?" I said again. "F-fuhh—" Mark broke off with a moan, trying to thrust his hips up to me. "Say it! Oh God, please say it, I need this so badly—say it, you uptight fucking bastard!" I sobbed, sinking a bit deeper to grip his hard tip firmly within me. "Fuck me--" he burst out, the vein standing out on his forehead as he strained to push himself deeper. "Oh, shit-- fuck me now!" I obliged, sliding fully down on him with a cry of relief and pain as his wide head bumped against my sensitive cervix. He was bigger than I had realized, and the frantic contracting of my pussy had tightened its slick walls; I felt almost virginal, for all my filthy whorish seduction of the gentle man beneath me—but suddenly he was gentle no more. His face contorted with fierce need, he growled deep in his throat and with one sharp, violent tug he managed to free one hand from his restraints. I yelped in surprise and fear as he first tore the blindfold from his face, then grabbed my trembling shoulder and held me still. "You!" His blue eyes bore into mine, and guilt darkened my face as my naked breasts shook with my frightened panting. I bit my lip, excruciatingly aware of his solid cock between my burning thighs. Even with the shock, my hips could not help but continue their tempestuous twitching—my body protested the pause of passion and quivered, bare in his accusing gaze. Then, my repressed, obsessive manager did something unexpected: he pulled me by my arm down until I was horizontal atop him, and tilted his face onto mine for a deep, sinful kiss. I wept with relief as our tongues met and became acquainted, my arms winding around his neck. His turgid member was still locked tight inside my pussy, and he broke the kiss to whisper again, "Fuck me." And I did—I buried my face in his neck, unable to bear the acceptance and recognition in his eyes, and rode his cock for what seemed like an eternity. Over and over, his hardness cleaved through my raw folds to prod the center of my being. When the "Faster!" command came, I came with it, helplessly convulsing around him while a long cry split my lips and my heart in two. Mark fought the restraining ties—I knew how his muscles must be aching, but he drove himself up and into me with agility born of desperation several times before finally ejecting his pent-up heat with an immense groan of relief. We lay still for a while, hearts flurrying and minds churning with exhaustion, confusion, excitement, and fear. At last, I picked my head up from Mark's chest and looked at his face. His eyes were still closed, but his brow was smooth, and his breathing was deep and even. It took me a moment to realize—the man was asleep! I blinked a few times in disbelief and amused annoyance, then quietly swung myself off him. I donned my clothes, untied his remaining restraints and turned off the music. I grabbed my keys from the counter, leaving behind cab money and Mapquest directions back to the restaurant... and nothing else. I drove home in silence, wondering what the hell was going to happen when he finally awoke. __________________________ As the door clicked shut, Mark opened one eye and looked around. She was gone. The man smiled to himself as he sat up, rubbing the indentations on his limbs where she had tied him down. Maybe he'd ask his manager if he could do her annual review next week. Employee of the Month I didn't take much notice of Ann at first. I mean, sure, she was a helpful and efficient colleague, but too quiet so she just didn't grab your attention. The company I was working for was an electronics manufacturer. A small, but profitable company of around 25 employees. As Sales Manager I had responsibility for 6 staff including Ann whose husband, Steve, also worked at the company as Technical Manager. Steve and I needed to work closely on larger projects and soon became a great team. About 6 months after I'd joined, at my suggestion, the company owner introduced Team nights out to cement a team spirit and improve morale. It was the first time I'd met most of us the company outside work and something of an eyeopener. The younger lads showed up in Henry Lloyd and Burberry gear and one lad just out of school who'd joined us in stores turned up in full goth getup, eyeliner included and spent the evening having the piss ripped out him by the older guys in his team. Bowling and a free bar was the theme for the night and it took no time at all for most us to sink a few pints and start talking loudly. We were split into 4 teams across 2 lanes, taking it in turns to bowl, drink and eat then bowl again. My team was doing pretty well in 2nd overall as we broke for food. I was watching the team in which Ann and Steve were playing bowl when I caught sight of Ann in profile. Fuck me! She was just wearing a blouse tucked into her jeans but her tits looked amazing! I knew Ann was about the same age as me, early-thirties, but her tits looked as full and pert as an 18 year olds. My best guess was a 34 or 36D or DD. How the hell did I miss them! I spent quite a lot of the rest of the evening sneaking a peek and even tried a couple of brief flirty conversations with her but there was no reciprocation. Eventually I gave up and just admired while trying to figure out how she could go from someone I barely noticed to someone who looked fantastic, just by putting on a blouse and jeans instead of her working clothes. It slowly dawned on me that she didn't want to be noticed in THAT way. Thinking back her clothes of choice were almost baggy jumpers or shapeless blouses, usually trousers or very occasionally a skirt that finished well below the knees and always with tights. The evening got drunker and later. By 1am the staff were ready throw us out if we didn't leave first. Steve was completely hammered and was leaning on Ann for support. "Do you need some help with him?" I offered seeing it was a difficult task with Steve being quite a big lad. "Er, no I think we're ok" Ann said shaking her head without looking at me. "ok" I shrugged as she passed me. We reached the taxi waiting for us outside and as I climbed in I noticed Steve was really wobbling and that Ann was struggling to direct him into the cab. I walked over offering her and hand which she gratefully accepted and together we managed to get him into the back seat. Just as we were about to close the door Steve loudly slurred "I'm going home to make love to my be-u- ti-ful wife" Ann and I looked at each other not quite knowing what to say. There was an awkward moment until she started laughing. "You might need some help with that too" I said trying to sound ambiguous and not getting away with it. Ann tapped me on the arm and just told me to behave. I waved them off and jumped back in my own cab. On Monday morning i got in early and Steve and Ann arrived just before nine as was their practice. Ann was back to dressing in trousers and a sweater but I knew what to look for now and her tits still looked amazing to me. For the first time ever she made a point of saying 'Good morning' specifically to me rather than a general 'Hello' to the office. I waited for her to appear in my Skype list then sent. 'well?' 'well what' 'how did you get on Friday night' 'fine thanks' It seemed I'd misread the signals so I didn't bother to reply. At around 3pm Ann dropped by my desk claiming to feel ill and said she was leaving for the day. She was a good employee so I agreed and offered to drop her home if Steve couldn't get away to do it. I thought nothing more of it until Steve skyped me half an hour later to ask me if I'd mind dropping a half finished proposal round to Ann at home. She'd suddenly realised that the document needed to be at the client today not tomorrow as she thought. Steve went on to explain that he couldn't spare any more time to drive the 30mins return journey and cheekily suggested that as I got paid on the deal, I should do it. Hesitantly I agreed, another half an hour wasted was hard to justify to MD but I figured that the proposal just about did it. I grabbed the documents from Ann's desk and set off. I'd never been to Steve and Ann's house before. It was a charming period cottage in a row of charming period cottages. I parked up and got out. By the time I reached the door Ann had opened it greeting me with a 'hello' "Feeling any better?" I asked with a hint of friendly sarcasm. "A little" she smiled, defensively it seemed to me. "Here's your stuff" I said, holding out the papers. "Ok, thanks Graham" She said taking them. "Actually there's a couple of bits I really need to talk to you about. " "Oh. Ok. " I realised Ann was inviting me in to her home and I felt tingles of anticipation on the back of my neck. I followed Ann inside and into the kitchen area at the back of the house. "Coffee?" she offered. "Great, black no sugar" I said perching on a kitchen stool. "Nice place" I commented out of courtesy. "Thanks, we like it. It still needs some work doing but we're almost there now" she answered as she boiled the kettle. "Do you mind making the tea? I just want to get changed" "Ok" I said, my eyes following her lustfully as she left the kitchen. A few minutes later, I was stirring coffee when I heard Ann say "Right. Ready?" I turned to see her dressed in a white vest top and a denim skirt that wasn't quite a miniskirt but was very unlike the clothes I was used to seeing her wear. "Blimey" was all I could think to mutter. Ann simply smiled and sat at the kitchen table. I wandered nonchalantly over and pulled out my own chair. The anticipation made me lick my lips. "You should dress that that all the time. You look gorgeous" "Thanks" she smiled. "Steve prefers me to dress down for work. He's quite jealous" "I hadn't noticed" I genuinely hadn't either. "Shame to keep those under wraps!" I nodded my head at her chest. "God that's sleazy" she laughed. "Sorry." I grinned "But they are awesome!" and we both started laughing. "They are great tits aren't they" Ann was looking down cupping her breasts and sticking her chest out. The vest top gave me a great view of her exposed cleavage. "Mmm" I salivated, my prick starting to twitch. "Really, really nice" I agreed. Ann looked up and smiled coyly. My mouth was slightly open in heavy anticipation as she slipped a shoulder strap seductively. She kept her eyes on me all the time and slipped off the other side. "Tell me again how gorgeous and sexy I am" she said as she revealed her white t-shirt bra. I drew my breath in and thought for a second. "You are the sexiest girl I know" I offered. Then -- "More than that, you drive me wild. To distraction. I can't stop thinking about your gorgeous body" I said slowly. "That's good" she said "I like being the centre of attention". Which was a surprising statement to me. I wondered why seem seemed so quiet at work when she loved this so much. "C'mon sweetie. Show me some more" I said softly leaning towards her. "God I feel so naughty" she giggled. "But nice!" I encouraged. She giggled and shook her head, her brown bobbed hair covering her face. For a moment I thought she was going to call a halt to the whole thing but she took a few seconds then lifted her head and swept her hair back into place. "I can't believe I'm sitting in my own kitchen with my tits out for my boss" she exclaimed. "They're not out yet!" I reminded her at which she started giggling again. I moved a hand to help her but she brushed it away and drew her bra strap down her shoulder herself. "God you're so sexy" I whispered. Ann smiled broadly as she pulled down the other strap. I couldn't wait any longer and firmly took the initiative by pulling down her bra exposing her beautiful titties. "Wow" I exclaimed "They are perfect" And to me they were. Wonderfully firm, about the size of an orange and dark womanly areola and nipples that begged to be sucked hard. I drew closer and gently cupped a breast in each hand. Ann shuddered and complained about cold hands but let out a little gasp as I gave each nipple a little lick. "Gently suck them. I love that" Ann requested in a breathy voice. I first cupped her breasts and then took her nipples, big beautiful things, in my thumb and forefinger and began rolling them before obliging to her request. Ann held my head making little gasps and encouraging sounds as I took turns to flick each of her nipples with my tongue until they were hard then I began to roll them again as I kissed her passionately. "Suck my tits" Ann restated. "God I feel so naughty!" I turned my attention back to her tits and started to nip them, as my own wife enjoys it, until she stopped me and asked me just to suck. Mindful that my own needs were secondary right then I stood up and offered her a hand to help her stand. She looked so horny standing there, her nipples erect to the maximum and her bra and vest pulled down to her waist. "C'mon" I took her by the hand and lead her over to the sofa in the corner. I sat her down and then sat next to her. Kissing her deeply I paid some attention to her breasts again before letting my hand drift down her waist and onto her leg. I could feel the tension in Ann but she didn't pull away so slowly I slipped my hand under her skirt and massaged her upper thigh. We broke off the kiss and looked at each other in the eyes. "You need to get back soon" Ann said huskily. "Not yet" I said firmly and pushed her over so she was on her knees with her bottom towards me. "Not until I see how wet you are anyway" Ann stuck her butt in the air nicely as I held her thighs and slid her skirt up over her waist to reveal her matching underwear, a white lycra thong. "Ann, I never imagined you'd wear something so sexy" I said in delight "I'm not quite as prim as I look. Now kiss my ass" she responded I took my time to take hold of the back of her thong and pull it tight. I wanted to see if she was wet already. And admire the view of course, and what a view. Ann's pussy lips were squashed flat and poking over the sides of her underwear, a few wisps of hair on each side. Ann wiggled a little to hurry me up so I pulled her thong to one side and was delighted to find she kept her pussy trimmed but not shaved then buried my face in her twat. Ann grunted in approval as I furiously eat her pussy, gulping her juices down as I did so. Ann pushed her hips back against me, trying to push my tongue as far up her pussy as she could get it and rubbed her ass up and down. Inviting my tongue into every possible part of her. At first I hesitated to poke my tongue in her asshole until she said. "God, Steve never licks me front behind. You're a badman Graham" she panted. With renewed vigour I spread her ass cheeks wider and set about getting her as wet and horny as I could. This time I flicked my tongue across her asshole as she rubbed her butt in my face but almost as soon as I did it she moved away from me and sat back next to me. "You've got to fuck me now, hard" she insisted. Hurriedly I unbuckled my belt and pulled down my suit trousers and boxers. "Nice cock" Ann complimented before getting reaching out and grabbing the shaft. Ann changed position and lay back on the sofa, removed her underwear and spread her legs. Her pussy looked red and puffy, her bush somewhat matted after my attentions. I leant on the sofa on one knee and guided my throbbing dick towards her. Ann put her arms around my waist and pulled me onto her. "Fuck it, c'mon, fuck it" she whispered in my ear. She was absolutely soaking and moaned every time I slammed my dick inside her. We were both on the edge of orgasm quickly and as I maintained a steady rhythm trying to to come I felt her pussy muscles pulse as she came crying out "God, that's feels so good!" At which point I released the floodgates and pumped gallons of spunk into her. We lay there saying nothing for a few moments then she simply said "What's the time? You better go" She even moved away as I leaned to kiss her and then disappeared off to clean up. I let myself out and 15 mins later was back at work talking shop to her husband. Employee of the Month Employee of the Month? Ha! Ask me about being employee of the month. I'll tell you what it means. What, you want to know? Well, it's like this... I left school at age eighteen and promptly found work in the offices of a small manufacturing company near out town. Very different from school. A teacher you can snow, bringing up all sorts of excuses for not doing something, but not your manager. Managers tend to be nasty people who expect you to do the work you're paid for. Still, I adjusted. The staff were a friendly lot, and that included the managers and the big boss (once they were satisfied that you will actually work). The firm had built up little traditions over the years. A couple of these being casual dress day (the first day of each month) and Employee of the Month. Employee of the Month was always announced on casual dress day and we were given this dinky little trophy ($5 for a pack of twelve, I think). Most of the female staff seemed to favour jeans on casual dress day, these jeans being of varying degrees of tightness. Quite frankly, I can't see how some of the women get into their jeans, let alone get them off again, they're so tight. I saw one of the girls with jeans that looked as though they were sewn into place and I couldn't help wondering what would happen in she got the trots. She'd be in real strife. Me, while I like jeans, I'm not really comfortable wearing them to work, even if it is casual dress. What I like to wear, especially in the summer, is a shift dress that just covers my butt and brightly coloured tights. I think I look real cute wearing them. I'd been working for nearly a year and I'd never received one of the Employee of the Month awards. I'd like to think the contest was rigged, but I guess it was really just a case of me not having the experience, but I'm a fast learner and I was getting better all the time. The first of the month fell on a Friday after I'd been working for nearly a year. That was fine by me because with my casual dress day clothes on I wouldn't need to go home after work but could stay in town and have some fun. One of the tasks shared amongst the office staff was the job of getting to work early and unlocking the place. This happened to be my week and I arrived bright and early. It's infuriating when someone arrives early and finds whoever is in charge of opening up is dragging their feet, so I make sure I'm not the one to do that. I was somewhat surprised when I arrived to find the place already open. I waltzed in, checking that the lights were on and that the kettle was full (and on. I wanted coffee) and generally doing the odds and sods that the opener had to do. I'd already noticed the light on in the boss's office and guessed that he was the early arrival. I was just heading towards my desk when Mr Branis stuck his head out of his office door. "Ah. Carlene. Just the person I wanted. If you've got a minute?" I found out very early in the piece that an 'if' from the boss is a polite way of saying 'do this now'. I smiled and headed towards his office. He ushered me in, closing the door behind me. Sitting on his desk was the little Employee of the Month cup, and I was shrieking inside myself 'Yes!'. "I like your choice in casual style, Carlene," he told me. "Very colourful." I smiled and thanked him and waited, because there was no way known that he'd just called me in to say that. "Ah, yes. I can see you're looking at out little cup and wondering," he said, and there was a smile on his face. "Wonder no more. You've finally got one. Both I and Mr Farqueson are quite pleased with the way you're doing your job and we agreed that you deserve a cup. You may take it home or put it on your desk, as you please." I was grinning like as loon, and mumbling my thanks. Mr Branis picked up the cup and presented it to me with a smile. "Now," he said, once I had my greedy paws firmly clasped to that little cup, "I would like to offer proper congratulations." I blinked at that, because I thought he had. He was still smiling as he took a step towards me, bent down and lifted up the hem of my shift (which wasn't much of a lift. I said it was short), and pulled down my tights and panties. My jaw just dropped and I took an automatic step backwards. Unfortunately this put me hard up against his desk and my hands automatically went behind me to prop me up so I didn't find myself flat on my back on the desk. I also found myself wanting a couple more pairs of hands, one pair to grab for my tights and another to cover my privates. I was too shocked to speak for a moment and Mr Branis took that moment to unzip and lean his cock towards me. That's putting it mildly. He had his cock out and was directing it against my slit with an expertise I'd never have guessed at. Before I could say, "No," he was already pushing into me and what should have come out as 'no' came out as 'Oh my god!" What with the way I was propped back against the desk and the way Mr Branis had pushed my shift up I could look down and actually see his cock pushing into me. And feel it. God, could I feel it. It felt huge. I wasn't ready for it at the start. I mean, how could I possibly have been ready for it? So it felt rough when it first started, but then I juiced up real fast, in shock I suppose, and the damn think was just sliding in real easy. Now I was trying to gather my wits together to tell him to stop. Wouldn't you? But what I actually appeared to be saying was "Oh my god," repeated frequently and mixed in with that were gasps and squeals and yelps and at least one "Oh, fuck me, what are you doing?" I knew what he was doing, all right. He was raping me. He might be the boss but that did not give him the right to just pull down my panties and stick it to me, and as soon as I got my head in order I was going to tell him so. Right now I was too busy wriggling and trying to get off that monster he was stuffing into me. I didn't have a frigging chance. He just happily pushed his cock home, totally ignoring anything I was trying to say, with a big fat cheesy grin on his face. He gave a final push and I gave a final squawk and he was nicely inside me, his hairy groin rubbing against me. "Might I say that I think you're doing a fine job," Mr Branis said, then before I could say anything sensible, like 'take it out, damn you', he started moving. I was still, much to my disgust, able to see everything he was doing to me. I could see his cock pulling out and I thought, if I jerk at the right moment he'll pop free and I'll scratch his eyes out if he tries to put it back in, but he stopped a moment too soon and I could see the damn thing pushing back into me. What was worse was that I could feel what it was doing. As it slowly vanished into me (not that slowly, really. He gave quite a firm thrust.) I could feel it inside me, nosing its way confidently up my passage, acting like a firebug strolling through dry grass. His cock was tossing off little fires as it went, heating me up, and there was nothing I could do to stop them. He fell into a rhythm real fast, banging away at me in fine style. If I was moving in concert with him it wasn't by choice, I assure you. It just seemed easier on me to move with him. He was fucking away, his cock plunging in and then withdrawing, only to come plunging in again. I was squeaking and squealing and bouncing under him, still unable to utter a coherent word, first because I was too shocked and then because the bouncing I was undergoing and the excitement that he was causing inside me left me too short of breath. It wasn't that I wanted to feel excitement, but with a cock like that doing its exercises inside me, what could I do? It turned out that Mr Branis wasn't in too much of a hurry to finish off his congratulations. He just kept on and on, and all this time I'm watching his cock sailing in and out, stirring me, charging in again and again. I wasn't exactly a virgin at the time, but I have to admit it's the first time I've actually watched a cock dancing in and out of me. Oddly erotic, in its own way. Not that I was appreciating it - I wasn't - definitely not. I was just noting that it was different, that's all. Finally, finally, I got enough breath to speak my mind. "Mr Branis," I protested, "you can't do this to me." "Yes, I can," he said, still smiling. "Feel this." He deliberately slowed down for a moment and then absolutely rammed his cock into me. I squealed and almost went through the roof, and completely lost track of what I was saying. Then I steadied and tried again. "I mean that you shouldn't be doing this," I gasped. "I never said you could." "You never said not to," he pointed out, his cock still happily pounding away. Oh, wow, didn't I? I wasn't exactly given a chance to once he started and before he started it never occurred to me that I'd have to tell him not to fuck me. "I didn't get a chance to say no," I pointed out angrily. Ever noticed how hard it is to try to talk when a man is fucking your brains out? You have to toss out words between squeaks and squeals and gasps for air, and every other word has a squeak to it as his cock hit home. "I'm telling you that I want you to stop." I finally got it out. "Ah, right," he said. "Why didn't you say so earlier? Do you want me to stop right away or fairly soon?" How was I supposed to know? I could barely think and his cock was still banging away, driving me demented. Stop now or fairly soon? What was the difference? If he stopped now, that was it. Over and done with. If he stopped fairly soon it would probably be after my climax. "You have to stop fairly soon," I managed to tell him, trying to sound firm. "No problem," he said. With that he hooked hold of one of my legs and hoicked it up into the air so I was almost doing splits, then he sort of rolled me over and let my leg go. I was now leaning forward over his desk with him still in me. That was the point where all hell broke loose. Up to then he'd just been congratulating me. Now he was celebrating with a vengeance. It was as though a jack-hammer had been fastened to his cock and then let loose. He was pounding away like crazy and I just opened my mouth and babbled as my entire body reacted to what was happening. It didn't last long. There was no way he could have kept up an effort like that for long. If he'd tried it would have been a case of 'hullo, heart attack'. Not that he needed to last long. A few strokes in and I was climaxing. I was shuddering and wrapping myself around his cock, and then it was squirting me, splashing its contents all around inside me. When I pulled myself together I tried to say something about what had happened. My attempted complaint was just shut off. "Really, you're making a fuss over nothing," he said. "I stopped as soon as you asked me to, didn't I? Now off to work. Oh, and you should show Mr Farqueson your trophy and thank him." I'd tidied my clothes while complaining, and it was while doing it that I realised why the rest of the women wore tight jeans as casual wear on Employee of the Month day. There was no way you could start up a congratulation exercise if you can't get her jeans off. I could see myself wearing jeans in future, the tighter the better. I stopped by Mr Farqueson's office to show him I had my trophy. He smiled and congratulated me and got up off his chair to come around and admire the trophy and shake my hand. Then he pushed the door closed and said, "I would like to offer you a proper congratulation."