CHAPTER 6: LONG DAY REWARDED

I doubt any of us involved had any inkling of what the day would bring for us. I know if I had I would have enjoyed a building of excitement in anticipation. As it was, though, it was an unexpected consequence. A good one.

The Thursday started normally. I woke first and before the alarm, slipped out of bed without waking either Mr. or Mrs. C. I looked down at the two of them and smiled. Mrs. C was sprawled on her back, the top sheet was at her abdomen, her breast covered by a hand from Mr. C as he lay on his side facing her. Then a tingling sensation crawled through my body as I recalled the casually intimate methods we had satisfied each other in this bed last night.

Several years ago my life seemed to have been changed because of the 5th-floor office. But it truly changed when Mrs. C enticed me to give up frequent visits on nights and weekends to permanently distribute their home, which also gave me more opportunities to assist her in her charity efforts. And now, in the new smaller office, our arrangement was out in the open.

As usual, I padded out of the bedroom and down the stately stairs remaining barefoot and naked. I enjoyed the feeling of nudity and they encouraged it, too. They encouraged it of me, anyway. Mr. C usually wore something but Mrs. C was often joining me in the nude experience around the house and privacy of the yard in the back.

I started the coffee in the kitchen. That was what I could manage until my mind cleared and it was manageable mostly by rote routine. I then unlocked and opened the sliding door leading to the patio, took a towel from the supply in the cabinet outside, and moved to the pool. There was a chill in the air but not too much, though a weather system was moving in that might change that in the next days. For now, the heated pool would be comfortable. I ignored any wondered of what it would feel like getting out of the water later.

I had found that swimming was ideal for me. Not that I pretended to be an excellent or proficient swimmer. Swimming was now a primary element of my fitness regimen. I did a little yoga, stretching, walking, and weights but running, at least with my boobs, was uncomfortable. Swimming became preferable to an elliptical or stationary cycle.

When I climbed out of the pool, I instantly had goosebumps which encouraged me to rub the water off my body more vigorously. I joined Mrs. C at the patio table where she had a carafe of coffee and extra cups. She was engulfed in a warm robe. I dropped the wet towel in the wicker basket and took a dry one to drape over my shoulders and accepted the Hot coffee which would do more to warm me than the partial covering of the towel.

Soon, Mr. C joined us. He too was in a robe. We shared several cups of coffee and idle chatter before we moved to the kitchen for a quick breakfast, then got ready for the day. I lived with them and on most nights even slept with them in their oversized bed, but I did have my own bedroom and it was there that I showered and dressed. As usual, Mr. C was waiting downstairs flipping TV channels between ESPN, CNN, and CNBC.

This part of the day worked for us, too. We both had been in the habit of arriving early and getting a jump on the day. Now that our relationship was known and accepted, we went to the office together. On this morning, we were discussing ideas for the get-together Mrs. C wanted to have for the office, and, as we entered the office, I turned immediately for the dressing area and stopped in front of the locker that had become mine while he stopped in the open door to the area and leaned against the jamb. We continued to weigh ideas, weekend options, etc. as I began undressing. It didn’t seem to matter how much he saw me naked or how often he saw me taking my clothes off, he seemed to enjoy watching. If it was an aggressive sexual day and I needed to Shower before going home to Mrs. C, he often watched that, too. Sometimes, after the others had left, he might also join me.

With him watching, I had him unzip my dress and unhook my bra. That was happening when Ms. Benson walked into the area. Her locker was next to mine. She took the liberty of pulling her hair to the front and presenting her back to him, too. I was slipping my dress on a hanger and hooking my bra strap on the hook of the stall as she stepped out of her dress. We looked at each other and laughed. Mr. C was all smiles as he saw it, too. Coincidentally, we were both wearing white lace garter belts and white sheer stockings. Since the firm was paying for our stockings, we each had a wide variety.

She hung up her dress, then turned to face Mr. C. I was pushing my panties down and she stood in her bra and panties. “Remember that inquiry that came in yesterday from the company on the West Coast?” He nodded and shifted his weight off the jamb to show her more of his attention. She reached behind her back to unhook her bra, slid the straps down her arms, and absently rubbed under one breast. Mr. C took it all in as he waited for her to continue. “I did a little searching online last night. They’ve been a very profitable group until the past reporting quarter which seems odd.” She pushed her panties down her shapely legs and dropped them on the shelf below her dress where she had several pairs of heels. She preferred to wear flats traveling to work and change shoes here.

She suddenly stared at me and asked, “Where did you find that garter?” My garter belt had little yellow flowers on the clasps holding the stockings. She shook her head indicating we would talk later about garters. “Anyway, Joe, the call came in from the president of the division and he indicated they had performed an in-house analysis but … how did he put it? … I think he merely indicated some concern.” He nodded and we left the room heading directly for his office. I joined them, both Ms. Benson and I taking chairs in front of his desk. Nobody was surprised by my being in attendance if he was involved.

She continued, “It seemed to be an odd thing for him to say. He didn’t say their analysis did or didn’t find anything or was inconclusive. Concerned. The more I thought about it the more it sounded like he didn’t trust the conclusion of their in-house analysis. That raised a new specter. Was he dealing with more than he wanted to admit even to himself? And, if so, was the analysis given to him misleading.” This was a process he enjoyed about Ms. Benson. Sometimes her speculation wandered but it only opened doors to be looked into and re-closed, if appropriate. She was thorough. “He asked for a call this afternoon. Well, late afternoon his time which would be the evening for us. I’m trying to figure out how to get more information on them before that call.”

Mr. C was deep in wondered. Most requests came in with information: this is our situation and this is what we would like to learn. Many times the need expanded once we got into it, but they usually believed they had an awareness of what they were lacking. Good management. Ms. Benson was right, this reeked of something more.

I offered, “Why not do the same as when we did backgrounds on our hires? We justified a deep dive based on the sensitivity of how our office would function. Let’s let Miles do his thing. See what he finds.”

Ms. Benson turned her attention from me to Mr. C. I could see she liked the idea. It was proactive. Mr. C was deep in wondered and I wondered I knew why. As it turned out, Miles hadn’t only been a computer geek who played a very erotic role-playing game. He had been the one who hacked the game, modified it, and put it out on the web to be shared. That was the game Tamara played and where she befriended him. Of course, in the game, she and he did more than be friends. Now, in real life, they continued that connection. But only a few of us knew that part of his past. “I’ll talk to him, sir. I’ll impress on him the need for careful discretion.” He finally agreed but only after reinforcing VERY carefully.

Moments later I sat on the edge of his desk next to where he sat. His desktop was covered with three monitors and when I arrived his fingers were a blur on the keyboard and his eyes flicking from one screen to the next. He shyly glanced at me or more accurately at my breasts. That’s the way he was.

“Miles,” I began, “I want to know if you can do something for me.” I explained what we had been talking about just moments before and how sensitive the approach needed to be.

“Of course, Abby. Anything for you.” That was the other thing about Miles. He seemed to attach himself to certain people and in the office, it had become me, Marie, and Tamara. It was cute but I continually reminded myself that attachment could crush him if handled wrong. I shifted closer to him. “This is kind of an emergency, Miles. We have a call with the possible client early evening. What do you think you can get?”

He smiled at me … at me this time, not my breasts. “Let me focus on only it and I’ll get you whatever there is to get.”

I pushed off the edge of his desk and sank to my knees next to him, turning his desk chair in the process. This was why the office paid for our stockings: kneeling is hell on stockings. “Will you help me with something else, too?” I asked as my fingers went to his belt.

“Abby,” he said, his hand covering mine at his belt. “You don’t have to do … this. I said I would do it.”

I sat back on my heels and looked up at him, my hands sliding to his thin thighs. “Miles … no … no. I’m grateful you are willing to do the search for me but grateful wasn’t the reason. I just wanted you … unless you don’t want to, of course.”

He shook his head, now embarrassed. “I just thought …”

I smiled at him and slid my hands back up to his belt. “It’s okay. Remember what I said before? After Mr. C, you’re one of my favorites.” He started saying something but I stopped him. “Sure, you have a big cock and that is nice, but the bigger reason you are one of my favorites is you.” I tugged his slacks and underwear. He raised his hips to assist. I smiled and might have licked my lips at seeing his hard cock. This was Miles, too: so awkward about Sex but easily aroused to full erection. “Miles,” I continued after kissing the head and licking inches of the shaft, “a big cock is physical and wonderful but the man behind it can provide an emotional connection that magnifies the rest.”

I didn’t look back up at him. His slacks down around his knees was all I needed. What I said was true. How long it would take for him to accept it was unknown. I engulfed his cock heard into my mouth. Like Mr. C’s cock, the thickness stretched my lips and filled my mouth, barely room inside to move my tongue around it but I did. His hand rested on the back of my head as I moved my head down and up, taking more of the shaft into my mouth to my throat. When I pressed more firmly and the head passed into my tight throat, he moaned loudly. I could imagine him glancing to the sides nervously but there was no hiding, no privacy in the office. Everyone shared the same exposure and everyone enjoyed voyeurism as well as exhibitionism.

Suddenly, I pulled my mouth from his cock. He groaned his frustration but I pulled him awkwardly from his desk. His desk was at the front, close to the door. At the corner formed by the normally empty office for Gerald Olsen, the attorney, and the wall of the showers was a stack of metal and plastic chairs for the occasional use when everyone was called for a full office meeting. He stumbled behind me while holding his pants up.

I pulled one chair off the stack and set it on the floor a little too hard, drawing even more attention to us that Miles probably didn’t appreciate. I pushed him into the chair, straddled my legs over him while facing him, and reached underneath for his cock. I rubbed my Pussy over the head, aligned my hole, and lowered myself down over it. We both moaned this time as his thick cock stretched my hole and filled my Pussy the few inches it had penetrated. Miles and Mr. C were the only ones who filled me so fully.

I raised and settled down to take more of him deeper. I cupped his face with my hands and kissed him hard, then muttered, “Let me fuck you, this time.” He didn’t remain passive, though. While my hips began an earnest fucking motion, his hands grasped my bouncing breasts and began kissing and sucking my nipples. I rose and dropped firmly down to take the entire length of his shaft into me. I shivered as I was not only impaled so fully but my clit was also being jammed against his pelvic bone. He must have felt that reaction because, while continuing to suck alternatively on my nipples, he slipped a hand down to stroke and press on my clit.

I was fucking on his pole like a crazy, wanton woman and it became too much for him to continue with my nipples. Released, my breast bounced and swayed before his face and occasionally bounced off his face. He didn’t seem to mind as we both were straining. His hands had shifted to the edges of the chair to provide leverage so he could flex his hips up to meet my downward push.

When my Orgasm hit me, my Pussy seemed to strangle his cock in spasms, clenching around it. My Pussy flooding with warm juices and my muscles tightened around him, his cock swelled and jerked in spasms until ropes of cum spewed into me.

I collapsed against him, his panting breath on my shoulder moving my hair with each breath, my Pussy still spasming around his cock which continued to leak the last of his seed. I sighed deeply. These were definitely not sympathy fucks.

* * * *

Mid-afternoon. I came up behind Miles and wrapped my arms around him. He jumped and I felt bad for startling him but not too bad as I kissed his neck and stroked his skinny chest.

“Abby,” he muttered, “I’m concentrating here.”

“Oh, pooh,” I sulked back as I shifted to resting on the front of his desk next to him. “How are you doing?”

“I’m following a thread I think will be very helpful.” He glanced at me … yes, my breasts. “Nobody is going to ask how I got this stuff, right?”

I smiled. It was what I wondered he would do but he had proved to be good enough not to get caught. “The information we use needs to be able to be found legitimately, though.”

“Don’t worry,” he said with a big smile as his fingers continued to be a blur over the keyboard. “Once I find things, I go back doing open searches knowing what I am searching for. There may be a few things that won’t work for you, but you will know what they are and, when… if… you get access to their systems, you’ll know what to look for.”

* * * *

The call was supposed to come at 8:00 PM our time. The president wanted to call after the Executive floor had essentially cleared out. Time zones. Mr. C, to partially make up for it being such a long day, insisted on taking us to a nearby restaurant that had decent steaks and salads. When Mr. C, Ms. Benson, Patti, and I left the office, Miles insisted on staying behind. He insisted he was on the verge of coming to the end of a very juicy thread of information.

When we returned, we three women detoured to the dressing area to undress, again. Whatever Miles had been doing on the computer, he stopped, shifted his chair for a better angle, and leaned back to watch us as our clothes were removed. Mr. C broke his attention, though, with a bag from the restaurant containing a large steak burger and a pile of home fries. His metabolism must be crazy the way he can eat, no noticeable exercise, and to stay so skinny.

We exited the dressing area again in uniform: stockings and heels. Miles had cleared space at the end of his desk to eat where he chewed food but his eyes were still mostly focused on us. In my effort to open him up, I learned more about what made the young man tick. Young man. We were about the same age but his personality caused that feeling about him. What I had learned as his trust resulted in confiding in me was that he had been obsessed with the idea of having Sex: masturbating about it and ultimately leading to him hacking a sexually explicit game to make it far more explicit and interactive. The game had become an alternative experience for him. When Tamara came along, she took a character with enormous breasts and virtually naked except for wisps of gauzy material that did nothing to cover her. Their characters frequently left the battlefield against some evil warlord to retreat to some hidden location where their imaginations explored a wide variety of sexual positions. Tamara and he had shared an embarrassed laugh when they encountered each other in the real world: rather than the enormous swaying breasts of her character, Tamara had pert B-cup breasts; and, rather than the massively muscled body of his character, Miles was instead a short, skinny man. To Tamara’s, and our, pleasure, though, the one constant was Miles’ cock.

What he brought with him from the game was a realization of being a voyeur. He was a student of different breasts and how they jiggled or bounced, especially with women in heels. Although trying for more discretion, he was fascinated by the different shapes and appearance of pussies: some inner lips protruded, some hidden; some slits were tucked low and others more visible.

I had to smile as we passed him on the way to our desks. I thought if he had a file somewhere in that computer that compared the seven women he now worked with and, if so, just how explicit in detail it would be. Knowing the man as I was, I imagined such a file would be very explicit in detail and, after fucking us, was able to add even more detail. It could be creepy really, so it was something he and I kept to ourselves.

* * * *

The call would be coming to Ms. Benson’s office phone so we were meeting in her office and having a pre-call meeting of what we knew and how to proceed with the call. Miles reviewed his finding. He provided everyone with a file for their laptops or tablets containing the pertinent information. Everyone was careful not to ask him how he found some of the most sensitive information. As it turned out, our instincts proved correct. The reason for high turnover, loss of productivity, and decrease in quality seemed to be pointed directly at the Vice President of the group. The information we had was damning. Getting the proof legitimately would take access to their systems. We had enough information we could distribute that would point their president in that direction. How he would want to handle it was the question.

We agreed to have Ms. Benson lead the discussion with assistance from Miles and Patti as needed. Once the presentation and discussion were concluded, Mr. C would step in. A sort of president-to-president connection to reinforce going forward.

The call took an hour and a half. We could feel the tension coming through the phone. To think the man he had so recently hired was the cause seemed to weigh heavily on the man. But, ultimately, he confessed our preliminary investigation only seemed to validate what his worst feeling already was. To the man’s credit, he didn’t ask too many questions about how we found the information.

The call ended with the man asking Ms. Benson to send him a proposal so he could make hiring us formally. She promised he would have it in an email by noon, his time, the next day.

Mr. C high-fived Ms. Benson in his excitement. He turned to Miles, “I’m impressed.” Miles looked embarrassed but accepted a high five, too. We then adjourned to Mr. C’s office where he pulled an unopened bottle of Jack Daniels from the bottom drawer of his desk. He said we needed to celebrate but, given how late it was, if anyone needed to leave, they certainly could. No one left. I accepted a glass of bourbon, or Tennessee Whiskey if you’re fussy, kicked off my heels, and rested my stocking feet on his desk. Soon, Ms. Benson and Patti joined me. Three otherwise naked women kicking back after a long day with a stiff drink in the boss’s office.