Office Perks (27 page)

‘What's that?'

I glanced to where a group at a nearby table had their ears flapping our way.

‘Nothing you can't handle, I'm sure.'

‘There's nothing I can't handle, girl.'

I had to answer him. He was just too cock-sure.

‘How about being whipped and buggered?'

‘Hey, I ain't no freak!'

‘Fine, it's nothing like that, just checking out your limits. Look, I'll explain.'

I leant close, to whisper in his ear, and had the satisfaction of watching his expression change slowly
from arrogance to surprise. When I sat back I was smiling, but also hoping he wasn't going to lose his nerve. He took a swallow of his vodka Red Bull and nodded.

‘I can do that, yeah, just so long as I get some action. You girls into stuff like that, then?'

‘Not really . . . well, maybe. Sometimes.'

We continued to talk, Aaron very brash and amused, taking our attraction to him for granted. He really was arrogant, and I could see him making a girl go through with it if she tried to back out, leaving me more than a little uncertain. Bobbie and Sophie had no such qualms, happily stoking his vanity by admiring the admittedly impressive bulge in his jeans, even stroking it. That was all he could take, downing his third vodka Red Bull as he stood up.

‘We've got to go, or there's going to be an explosion.'

Sophie's response was to nuzzle his crotch with her face, purring happily. They linked arms as we left the pub, Bobbie on his far side, which left me with Luke, as happy to watch as they were to suck his cock. It was easy for him, no pressure, and he was well full of himself, his arms around both of them before we were halfway down the High Street, and his hands on their bums before we'd got to Sophie's flats.

I was wondering if he was going to object to Luke, but he simply ignored him, groping and kissing the girls, pinching my bum too, as we got out of the lift. In Sophie's flat there was no hesitation. He sat down in the centre of the sofa, let his legs slide apart as the girls got down to either side, and flopped his cock out of his trousers. He was big, very big, thick and black and veiny, and only half stiff, with the pink tip of his helmet just poking out from a meaty foreskin.

Sophie went straight down, taking him in her mouth even as she pulled out his balls. Bobbie watched for just
a moment, before joining in, the two of them licking on his rapidly expanding cock shaft as he watched with an amused expression. I quite wanted it in my own mouth, and I knew exactly what would be going through Luke's mind because, when it came to cocksucking, Aaron had to be his ideal.

Aaron looked up at me suddenly and pointed to his cock.

Why not? I went down on my knees between his open legs, my arms around Bobbie and Sophie as I buried my face in his crotch, licking at his dark, heavy balls. I wanted my breasts out while I did it, maybe my bum bare too, to tease him, to see if he'd break the agreement I knew Bobbie had made. And if I got fucked, well . . . I got fucked.

My fingers went to my shirt, tweaking my buttons open. He watched as I opened my blouse and tugged up my bra. I paused briefly, to heft my breasts in my hands, showing off to him, before going back to licking his balls and the shaft of his cock. Bobbie was no better, her hand down her trousers, playing with herself as she enjoyed his erection, or Sophie, her top and skirt quickly pulled up to show her knickers and bra. His hands had been on the back of the sofa, but now settled on the girls' bums.

He was pushing it, but I was too high to care, playing with my breasts as the three of us licked and sucked and kissed at his lovely big set of cock and balls. Soon I'd pulled my skirt up, showing my knickers, then my bare bum, surely an invitation? He held back, cool and easy as the three of us worked on him, but suddenly something seemed to snap. He pushed up and I was sent sprawling, my legs wide, my pussy spread, his body on top of mine, his cock jammed deep as I gasped in shock and he was fucking me, furiously hard, and calling me a tart and tease as I grunted and panted underneath him.

Luke did nothing, just watched open-mouthed as I was fucked on the floor. Bobbie and Sophie reacted, jumping in to pull on his shoulders, too late, as he finished off, spunking deep inside me before pulling free to milk out the last of his come over my mound. I was panting, dizzy with sex, too horny to stop myself as my fingers went to my clit. There was a sour, knowing grin as Aaron stood up, watching me masturbate over what he'd done.

The girls saw, and let go of him, watching as my fingers worked in my crease, wet with his come, bringing myself up, higher and higher as I replayed over and over the way he'd just thrown me on the floor and fucked me, until I came, crying my ecstasy out loud to the room.

When we met again, after work on the Thursday, we had serious trouble deciding what to do. As Sophie argued, and I had to agree, it had been a bit much to ask of Aaron, or any red-blooded male, not to fuck me. On the other hand he hadn't even bothered to ask, or apologise afterwards, simply assuming that because I'd taken my knickers down I was up for it. I had been, of course, but that wasn't the issue.

Bobbie argued that up until that point he'd been very well behaved, although apparently he'd had his fingers up both their snatches by the time he'd lost it. Therefore, as long as we were game to satisfy him, everything would be OK. Sophie agreed, but I wasn't quite so sure, and at the least wanted a reliable man around – a man who wouldn't prove to be completely and utterly useless, as Luke had.

The thing was that Luke had been completely overawed by Aaron, basically because he had really wanted to be down on his knees and sucking cock, preferably with the three of us laughing at him while he did it.
That was all very well, but entirely useless for our purposes. I needed a man I could trust, a real man, and I could only think of one possibility – Todd Byrne.

Maybe I'd have given up on it, but the more I thought about it the more deliciously improper it seemed. After weeks of being expected to kow-tow to executive types it was going to get a lot of frustration out of my system. I needed the money too – five hundred each – because, despite my good wages, I'd actually managed to spend more than I'd earned over my time as a temp. Still I might not have done it, but Friday morning tipped the balance.

I got the call I'd been expecting all week, from Maryam Smith. She didn't even want me in at Super Staff. I was sacked, and that was that, no explanation, no nothing. It had to be Charles King's doing, perhaps threatening to take his business away if I wasn't fired, perhaps making up some outrageous lies about me, perhaps even telling the truth, or a twisted version of it. Whatever, it left me seething.

It wasn't fair, to get me thrown out of a job just because I'd bruised his precious ego, and that was what it was, nothing more. I'd had every right to have sex with Sam, or anybody else I wanted, any way I wanted. Maybe, just maybe, he'd had reason to be angry, but to take my job away was right out of order.

I was going to go in and tell Maryam Smith where she could stick her job, but by the time I'd got to the Edgware Road I'd realised it was pointless. It wasn't even really her fault, and she almost certainly didn't know the truth. Charles King was the one to blame, but what could I do? I went drinking, from pub to pub, downing Guinness with whiskey chasers and plotting ever more fanciful revenges. The only even vaguely sensible one was to let the warehouse boys at Tilbury Bond have me anyway
they liked in return for beating him to a pulp, and that was just going get me arrested. I was in my fifth pub when it hit me, the perfect revenge, calculated to hit him where it hurt but not to land me in jail.

My bladder was on the point of bursting as I made for the KMC building, but I hung on, my legs crossed and my toes wiggling on the bus, and my thighs pressed firmly together as I stood in front of the receptionist. My voice was full of contrition as I asked if I might be allowed to see Mr King, and when Andrew Miller came down to ask what I wanted I told him I'd come to apologise.

Up we went, through the security system and into the presence of the great Charles King, his face set in smug condescension, as I stepped into the centre of the office, pulled the gusset of my knickers aside and emptied the full contents of my bladder all over his priceless Persian rug.

It was nearly two hours before I got out of the KMC building, which was how long it took for Charles King to calm down enough to realise that having a nineteen year-old girl accusing him of demanding that she pee in front of him was not going to be good for his reputation.

My line was simple. I'd offered to apologise. He'd demanded a filthy act to humiliate me before I got a sound fucking, and in my fear and confusion I'd agreed, failing only to realise that I wasn't supposed to go on the carpet. He ranted and raved, but finally he had to accept that when the questions started it would be poor, tearful little Lucy Doyle who was believed, and not big bad Charles King, who'd seduced more office girls than he'd had hot dinners.

I left.

It felt good, really good. My fists were clenched in
triumph as I walked out through the lobby with my head held high. Only when I was out in the street did the reaction of what I'd done hit me. I was shaking so violently I had to sit down. Then there were tears. Then laughter. I was choking the laughter as I walked, thinking of his face as I'd let go all over the rug, his speechless outrage and his wild, impotent fury. All the way home my mouth was constantly twitching into a wicked smile. I'd already decided to ask Todd Byrne to be our minder on the Saturday, and I was in just the mood to have some of my excess energy fucked out of me.

He would still be at work, at the Parochial House but, after the carpet incident, the thought of running into Father Jessop didn't really bother me. I got off at Kilburn Park and walked to House, singing happily to myself as I went. There was no sign of Jessop, but Todd was there, clipping a hedge, his muscular torso naked and damp with sweat. He grinned as he saw me.

‘Hi, Todd, you said to call. Got a moment?'

‘For you, always. Come inside?'

‘Sure.'

I followed him into his hut, watching the muscles on his back play as he went. Just the smell of him was getting me horny, never mind how he looked and the knowledge of what he could do to me, while the great head of energy I'd built up by confronting King was rapidly turning sexual. He was grinning as he spoke.

‘So, what can I do for you?'

We both knew the answer, and Hilary Chalmers could wait.

‘What you do best, Todd. I really need it.'

He didn't need telling twice. As I stepped close he'd taken me in his arms, kissing my mouth even as he fumbled up my skirt and my fingers groped for his fly. A moment later my knickers were down at the back and
he was growing in my hand as he fondled my bottom, our mouths working together as we readied each ourselves for sex.

I went down on him before he was fully hard, wanting to feel him swell in my mouth, and to taste him. He held my head as I sucked, leaving me on just long enough for his cock to grow rigid before lifting me under my arms, pushing me hard against the door, ripping my knickers free of my thighs and plunging deep into me. Immediately I was gasping and panting in breathless ecstasy as he fucked me, my legs splayed wide, my breasts bouncing. He stuck his fingers into my shirt and tore it wide open. He was grunting as he did it, crude and animal, with his sweat-slick, hairy chest rubbing on my nipples and his coarse trousers right on my pussy, splaying my sex lips to touch my clit.

And I was gasping my head off as I came, totally unable to control myself, bucking and squirming in his grip, shudder after shudder running through me until, with a final bestial grunt, he jammed himself to the hilt and let it go inside me, looking me in the eye with a cheeky, dirty expression on his face and a curl to his lip like the bad boy he was.

He gave me a last kiss before lifting me off his cock and lying me down in a chair, heedless of my dishevelled state and ruined clothes. Several buttons were gone, although my knickers were beyond hope – a mangled damp mess that reeked of pheromones. By the time I left he'd agreed to come along on the Saturday, with the understanding that once he'd done his bit he could take me to bed. That was fine, because I was going to need it.

Hilary Chalmers rang me Saturday mid-morning to ask if everything was as it should be. I told her it was, fairly confident that nothing could go wrong. She would be
arriving at Paddington on a one-twenty train, which I was supposed to meet. From then on every detail was carefully arranged, with Bobbie, Sophie, Aaron and Todd each playing their part. I could still think of a dozen ways it could go wrong, but there was nothing to do but keep my fingers crossed.

I took a mini-cab to Paddington, just in time to watched the one-twenty pull in, disgorging its passengers, including Hilary Chalmers in a white designer suit, expensively cut and accessorised to the nines, as if she was off to a garden party at the Palace. Her haughty stare was everything I remembered as she saw me, and I responded with a polite and servile dip of my head, greeting her respectfully as I reached to take her bags.

‘Good afternoon, Ms Chalmers,' I said in a rather forced sing-song voice that we both knew was put on.

She didn't trouble to respond, but walked briskly towards the cab rank with me staggering behind. My mini-cab was waiting, the hulking driver with his eyes fixed firmly in front, chomping on something highly calorific. I held the door for Ms Chalmers and loaded her bags into the boot before climbing in myself, next to the driver. A single, cold word came from the back.

‘Knightsbridge.'

It took a moment to get free of the station traffic, and then we were up the ramp and away, turning left, and then left again. Only when we'd joined the pack of traffic in the Marylebone Road did Ms Chalmers speak up, her voice full of impatience.