by Jamie Knight
“Max, in here, buddy,” Mitch said, popping his head out into the hallway as I breezed right past the door.
The meeting room was small but still big enough for our purposes. I really wanted to let our work speak for itself. We had gone through enough to get it. Mitch was more the sales guy anyway. Not in a sleazy or oily way. He could always just find the very best way of presenting. He was the ultimate optimist, really.
His mostly positive attribute could get a bit creepy once you’ve seen it literally applied to a plane crash. Mitch went into full spin-control when a nascent airline we were covering started having trouble with mechanical air. They tended to drop before really lifting off too high so one really got hurt, but still, it looked pretty bad. In swooped Captain Charm and fixed everything right up.
“You feeling okay?” I asked, noticing Mitch didn’t seem his usual bouncy self.
“Yeah, just a bit tired is all.”
“Just don’t fall asleep during the presentation and we'll be fine.”
“I do my best, but since you are also going to be talking, I make no promises.”
“Smart-ass,” I smiled.
“Nerd.”
“Fair,” I said with a quick nod of agreement.
Ulysses Whitman was a walking stereotype. Three hundred pounds of good ol’ boy in a five-seven frame, stuffed into a distinctly Western suit accentuated by hand-tooled cowboy boots. The black cowboy hat with a bull skull hatband was the cherry on top of the absurdity sundae. Mitch and I cast each other a glance as he came in and sat down across from us at the conference table.
“Whoo-ee, ah haven’t had exercise like that since mah last cattle ropin’!”
“Took the stairs?” Mitch asked, before I could.
“Naw, but that there hallway sure is dang long!”
I couldn’t argue with him there. It was a bit of a hike from the elevator to the conference room. Particularly if you happened to miss it the first time and did a full rotation of the floor before ending up back up at the elevator.
The reappearance of the shiny metal doors was the final proof that things had really gone pear-shaped, a summation of the nagging sense that the numbers on the doors started looking wrong a while ago. It was like walking an endless hall in a dream.
“Well, take a breather, Mr. Whitman. We have all the time you need,” Mitch said, pouring on the charm as well as he could in his condition.
“T’ank yah, m’boy.”
When Whitman had rediscovered the miracle of air and his face went from a noticeable red back to a color in no way resembling that of a boiled lobster, we got down to business.
“Ah’m gonna get right to it,” Whitmans said, recovering enough to take control of things. “Y’all have a dang impressive client list. Especially considerin’ how young y’all are. Ah’ve been lookin’ for a good insurance firm for a while. A group of folk who can take the big pile of cash ah already got and protect it till it can get even bigger.”
“We’ve certainly got experience there,” I said, saving Mitch the effort.
“That ya do. Ah mean, why else would White & White be with y’all? Even as lawyers ya don’t get to billionaire status without doin’ somethin’ right, right?”
“Right,” Mitch and I chorused.
“Specially considerin’ their reputation for philanthropy.”
“They can be quite generous,” I agreed, mostly because it was true. Mitch was the ass-kisser out of the two of us.
“Very generous, indeed,” Whitman pondered.
It was a bit of a leap, but I hoped that maybe his predictive rumination might have been an insight into what he was thinking in terms of our deal.
“Ah’ve never been one to put all mah eggs in one basket, temptin’ as that might be. How about we start with $500,000 worth and see how that goes? If y’all do good, I’ll think about havin’ you boys cover the lot.”
“Sounds absolutely perfect,” Mitch said, managing one of his usual 500-watt grins.
I always thought he looked ridiculous when he did that, but the clients seemed to like it. Whitman was no exception. The problem was clearly with me. There were many times a day when I wished I could just be happy. The burden of that knowledge often got to be oppressive. Then I caught a few seconds of reality TV and have my appreciation for my lot in life instantly restored.
She was still there. Waiting patiently as I came out of the meeting. Smiling sweetly as I drove home, trying to beat the rush hour traffic, when I parked in my assigned spot outside my townhouse. She wasn’t in the kimono anymore. Or my bedroom. Nothing fancy like that.
We were nowhere but the fields of my mind and she wore nothing at all. Her wonderful tits were out in their full glory. Her tight little pussy was already glistening with excitement.
I desperately got my pants off, my rock-hard cock jumping out into the open air as though it was spring-loaded. Unable to get to the bedroom, I settled onto the couch, pulling my pants and jacket off on the way.
I never wore a tie, so it was one less thing to worry about.
Carrie approached me in my mind. Getting on her knees between my feet, she gazed up at me with love and adoration. I stroked her soft cheek and my little darling nuzzled against my palm before gently sucking my thumb.
Withdrawing my thumb gently, I slid my hand around to the back of her head, gently guiding her into my cock. Her mouth opened as she approached. I watched with pleasure as the bulk of my massive cock disappeared into her sweet little mouth. Always on the lookout for signs of discomfort or distress, I saw nothing but absolute, blissful pleasure.
Carrie got right to work, stroking her soft, wet lips the length of my shaft and then back again. Soft, sexy throat sounds coming from her as she worked past her gag reflex to be able to deep throat my monster cock with grace and aplomb.
Taking gentle hold of her ponytail, I controlled her movements, reaching down with my other hand and stroking her back as she sucked. Both of her hands were flat on her knees because I had yet to give her permission to do anything else.
She looked up at me with her shining eyes. It was a look full of desire as well as love with just a touch of wonderment, like she couldn’t be so lucky as to be able to suck me off. It might sound like hubris, but it was a look I had seen before. Though not quite like that.
I hadn’t exactly been a womanizer. Work had kept me effectively celibate since college, but before that I did okay. I wasn’t a man whore, but I had a couple of girlfriends. But nothing I felt then was anything like what I felt for sweet Carrie.
That was an issue I attributed to myself more than anything else. Carrie was special to be sure. Though I had also become emotionally mature enough to recognize that. Otherwise, I might have just seen her as just another piece of ass.
Again, an attitude which had been entirely my problem. I often thought that if I ever had access to a time machine, the first thing I would do, even before killing Hitler in 1918 during the war so no one would notice, was go to my younger self and smack him upside the head.
The cum flowed freely, thick and warm, presumably also sweet judging by the look Carrie had on her face as she swallowed it all down. She all but swished it around in her mouth like a professional wine taster. I pulled slowly out of her mouth and she collapsed against me, panting and laying her cheek against my thigh.
I scooped her up into my powerful arms and conveyed her over to the bed which had appeared out of the ether, much like the couch had. The space of my imagination was as mutable as anything.
We kissed tenderly. Soft wet smacks filled the air, broken only by the silence that came when we started using our tongues. The lovely, playful dance of them made both of us hum with glee.
Kissing my way down her beautiful body, I gently spread her legs. My sweet Carrie moaned with the sensation as the cool air touched her aching little cunt. She jumped and gasped at the first gentle stroke with the flat of my thum
b. Realizing an even softer approach would be needed to ease her into things, I sank to my knees between her creamy thighs, keeping my hand cupped lightly on her warm, tender pussy as I did so.
Moving my hand gradually out of the way, I lead in with a long, loving lick. Covering almost all of her lips from bottom to top, I gave her clit a little swirl when I finally got up there. She jerked and writhed and moaned to the heavens, making it clear how much she enjoyed what I was doing to her tight, pink girlhood.
Her exclamations only grew more vigorous as I parted her succulent lips and did the same to the inside of her soaking, tender, open, pussy. Shudders ran through her like a freight train on loose track.
Moans vibrated up from her like she was sitting on a malfunctioning washing machine on the spin cycle. She finally exploded in a massive orgasm that arched her back like she was in desperate need of an exorcism before crashing back down onto the bed so hard the spring squeaked.
I licked her clean and kissed her gently as she came down from the Babylonian tower of an orgasmic high, easing her back down to a life spent on the ground. When she was ready, it was time for the next stop on our mystical ecstasy tour.
I didn’t have to do much. Carrie seemed to read my mind and swung around so she was at the edge of the bed, scooting down so she was closer. Her legs were still wide. I smiled and lifted one of her legs from the mattress.
Holding her lightly by the ankle for support, I gently sucked each and every one of her toes. Her palms finally left the bedspread and her hands went up over her head as she moaned. I gave her an intense tickle as punishment, working the exposed sole of her bare foot until she nearly screamed with laughter.
Taking mercy on her, I took her other foot up into the same position, resting the first on my shoulder. Running my tongue up the sole of her second foot until she moaned with delight, I suckled all her little piggies and made her giggle in a more delighted way before resting her second foot on my other shoulder.
I moved her tight little pussy right in line with my thick throbbing cock. Taking it by the base, I stroked the head against her, making her yelp and hum and shake with anticipation. When I thought she was ready, I pushed on. I eased my massive cock all the way inside her, taking time to say hello to her clit and her g-spot on the way.
Carrie lay still and gasped deeply, trying to get used to being so completely filled up. Despite the very snug fit, she gave the go ahead. I started to move backward to get to a more manageable depth and then started back and forth. Rocking in and out of her tight little cunt, pumping her toward ecstasy.
Even with my dominant position, Carrie still managed to follow. So moved by the pleasure I was giving her, she wanted more, sliding her hips in time with my cock. She met each of my thrusts, making things feel even better for me than they already did. Her tight pussy was truly a little bit of heaven on earth.
Feeling the sensation rising and knowing she was about to cum, I held back, letting her go first. My cock still deep inside her, I felt the vibrations through her pussy as she shook with sweet orgasm.
Turning her onto her side without actually pulling out, I bent her legs so her knees were up by her chest and transferred my cock from her pussy to her asshole, only going in as far as the head. I unleashed a mighty torrent of cum, blasting like a firehose up her tight little asshole. Carrie moaned long and loud as she was filled up with my hot load.
When all was through, I moved to pull out. To my surprise, Carrie reached back and grabbed my cock, keeping me in. I could have spanked her. I could have given her a solid, resounding smack that would make her ass turn red, but I didn’t. It was a rebellion, but one I was willing to allow seeing that it was rooted in genuine desire. She wanted to know what it felt like to be fucked in the ass, something I sensed she had no real experience with.
I wasn’t about to just ram it in her. That would in no way turn out well for either of us. Instead, I got down on my knees before her, parted her supple ass cheeks, and began with gentle licks and swirls. At first, I went from her pussy and then up across her asshole before focusing exclusively on the latter. I concentrated on the hard circle approach that she enjoyed so much, if the screaming wails were anything to go by.
Her virgin hole prepared, I arose behind her. My cock returned to full attention and, parting her cheeks as well as I could with one hand, I used the other to press the head of my cock against her. She hummed and gasped before I had really done much of anything.
Her asshole apparently was just that sensitive. Inching forward, I carefully worked my way inside her, her sweet virgin asshole hugging me tightly as I entered. I had never felt so welcome.
Getting about halfway in, I stopped for a moment to allow her to adjust to the feeling. Carrie taking several deep, cleansing breaths. When she was ready, I laid a hand on her hip and started to move inside her.
Working my cock in her tight asshole, she moaned in absolute bliss. So much, in fact, that her muscles gave out, while she had been trying to watch everything as it happened, she finally gave in, slumping against the bed. She continued to moan loudly as I pumped my massive cock inside her, stretching out her tight little asshole with each, slow, careful thrust.
Before long she was relaxed enough for me to go hard, pounding my cock in her as she screamed with delight. It seemed she was going through an almost transcendental experience as she grew closer to orgasm. I helped her along by gently fingering her pussy as I fucked her, paying particular attention to her clit and making her scream with even greater conviction.
Finally, in one burst of pure joy, she came. Her orgasm mixed with her ass-task, she shook on the bed. Pulling out as gently as I could, I tenderly massaged her stretched out ass hole as she recovered. I got onto the bed with her. Our lips drew together as though by nature, our soft kisses again echoing through the space beyond.
Chapter Four - Carrie
I never felt lazy. It was an impossibility going down to the genetic level. I was Scottish and the Protestant work ethic was in my blood. Or at least my mind. Drilled into place by years of instruction and reminders. I also had a near cliché level of thrift, but that had more to do with necessity than breeding.
My job was good, and the pay was fair, but my apartment wasn’t rent controlled. Tiny as it was, it ran at $2,500 a month after two rent increases over the two years I had been there. Before long I would be priced out entirely and would likely have to move elsewhere within the city borders. I had never really imagined living anywhere else.
My girlhood dream was to make it in the big city, so when I arrived in Manhattan, I figured it was where I was going to stay. Even if I was never going to make it onto a marquee on Broadway, I could still try to reach the dream in my newfound profession. Which just so happened to land me in the place I had always wanted to be.
It was like some kind of wonderful dream, making me think that things might actually still work out for the best. Reality hit like a bare-knuckle prize-fighter soon thereafter.
If I had a boyfriend, it might be different. I could move in with him after getting bucked out, our combined incomes hopefully enough to keep us in shelter for the foreseeable future. Only problem was, no such man existed in my life and I didn’t seem to have very many good prospects of finding one.
My last two boyfriends had left me pretty cold to the whole idea. Though even if they hadn’t and I was still ‘on the market’ as it were, there was still only one buyer I would even consider. But as far as I knew, Max, if he thought about me at all, regarded me as a colleague.
My mind went back to our disastrous lunch. The crying had been a bit much. At least he had paid the bill before leaving. What really hurt was that he didn’t even look my way before leaving, let alone to apologize. It felt like I was nothing. I was fine with being at his beck and call. I enjoyed it honestly, but even I didn’t like to feel like I’d been discarded. Especially not by someone I loved so much.
I was just going to have to
forget about him. Not literally, of course. The fact that I worked at his company as his personal assistant made that proposition laughable in its absurdity. I would just have to keep my head down and get the work done, forgetting about any kind of romance blossoming between us.
“The Music of the Night” started blasting from my phone, which was all the way over on the night table. With a most unladylike harrumph, I rolled over to get it, my eyes not even opening as I hit the accept icon, ready to give whoever was calling a very large portion of my mind.
“Carrie?”
One word. That was all it took. I just had to hear him say my name and all the anger and tiredness drained out of me, taking a good deal of my strength with it. Barely able to keep a hold of the phone I realized I’d better say something.
“Good morning, sir.”
I almost said, ‘good morning, master.’ My true intentions nearly slipped out in my surprise. It was sure to be taken as sarcasm even if it had. Still, I managed to avoid any real unpleasantness which I definitely considered a win.
“Listen, I know it’s your day off, but I really need to talk to you about something.”
“Okay.”
“First of all, I’m really sorry about lunch yesterday. I basically ditched you, and that wasn’t right. But I did get some good news. Whitman is investing in the company. This is something that ties into what I started to talk to you about because it is part of a greater push I have been planning.”
“I’m listening,” I said, doing my best to contain my genuine excitement.
I was quite honestly thrilled for him. Whitman was a big catch. If he kept going like this, MP Solutions was going to be one of the top insurance companies in the country within a few years.
“My idea is to have a competition. The rules are pretty simple. Every agent in the firm will have one month to get as many new clients as they can. The two who have brought in the most clients in two months are the winners.”