I worked in an office with a number of women and one other man besides myself. The company decided to move our office manager to another location, and brought in a new one. It was the first time we had ever had a female office manager, and I was surprised to find out that she turned out to be quite beautiful.
There were a number of times when I had to give reports on the productivity of the office workers to her. My job as personnel officer was complex, and it was my duty to see that the office ran smoothly, with evaluations given at least every six months of every person in the office. Payroll came under my jurisdiction, also, and I had ten ladies on my payroll staff. From our office, we ran a nation wide company.
"Your reports are all messed up," she said with an air of finality and distaste.
"Excuse me?" I asked.
"Your reports. I can't make any sense of them. You need to take all this ---trash --- home with you and finish it before nine o'clock." She swept the stack of papers off her desk and onto her floor.
I swallowed. I couldn't believe she was being so mean, so demanding. There was nothing wrong with my reports. There was now, though. They were all over the floor, out of sequence.
"Is there something in particular that you wanted me to change?" I asked, getting a little hot about it.
"Go through them, and you can see. I want them finished by nine o'clock tonight."
"I can't stay here that late."
"Leave me your address, and I will stop by your place and pick them up."
Her voice had softened. I had no idea what she was talking about. I bent over and started picking up the papers, and as I straightened and looked back at her, I noticed that she had been staring at my ass.
I gave her my address and telephone number. She didn't take the piece of paper from my hand. She indicated a spot on her desk where I should place it.
I left, thinking that I should pick up a newspaper on the way home, and check the want ads for a new position somewhere.
At home, I worked at my laptop until eight o'clock, trying to find out why my reports were all messed up, as she said. I looked over every file, and then fed all the info into my desktop computer and printed out all the charts, all the reports, and all the files. It looked good, with full color charts and graphs. It was in order.
I had only changed the wording on two pages of a twelve-page set of reports. She was going to be pissed, there was no doubt about it.
At eight fifteen I jumped into the shower and dressed casually very quickly. I dried my hair and looked pretty decent when the doorbell rang.
It was Ms. Bitch, first name, Jane. She stood there and looked at me, and without waiting for me to invite her in, she stepped inside and looked around.
"Not bad," she said. Then she turned to me. "Reports?"
"Um, would you like to come in and have a drink?"
She looked at me, consciously, knowingly moving her gaze from the top of my head, down to my shoes, and then back up again.
"OK."
She sat on the sofa while I fixed her a martini. My hands shook as I handed it to her. She sat there, looking at the reports. She told me to sit while she paced, walking the length of the room. She walked faster and faster, and then, she took one page and tossed it on the floor. After a few more steps, she tossed another on the floor.
I sat and watched her, horrified, glad that I had bought the day's paper. She stopped and looked at me.
"There's no difference here, Lyle," she said. "This is bad, ugly work, and I think you need to apologize to me for having to look at this crap."
"Um," I said.
"Now, I think that you should get on your knees, because you're scum, and scum needs to be punished."
My eyes widened and my mouth fell open.
"On your knees, now!" she commanded.
I got on my knees, feeling ridiculous, wondering exactly what I should say to Ms. Bitch.
She walked over to me and stood very close. I could look right up her skirt, and lo and behold, I could see her cunt.
Her legs were spread slightly, and she was looking down at me. "Get on all fours, and quit staring at my pussy," she said.
I got on my hands and knees, and she walked right over to me and put her foot on my back. I looked up, and her skirt was right above me. Her pussy was damn near right in my face.
"You useless piece of shit!" she screamed. "I told you not to look up my skirt." She pressed down my back with her heel, pushing me to the floor. "Just for that, you're gonna have to eat it," she said, and reached down and pulled my face toward her groin. She sat on the floor in front of my face and grabbed the back of my head. She inched herself forward, pressing my face into her cunt.
"Lick that, eat it, stick your tongue deep inside it!" she demanded.
I stuck out my tongue, tasting her pussy juices. Realization was dawning on me as I licked her cunt.
"Tell me you like that," she said.
"I love the taste of your pussy," I said.
I went back to lapping her cunt, flicking my tongue out at her clitoris. She sat there and moaned and began to move her hips around. Her legs started to shake, and she came, plastering my chin with juices from her hairy snatch.
She got up and told me to pick up my papers. I crawled around on the floor and picked up all the papers and handed them to her.
"Thank you," she said civilly, and left.
I whipped out my dick and jacked off, cumming in great gobs of jism that flew up and hit me in the chest. I had never been so turned on in my life.
The next day at work, she called me into her office. "These reports are fine," she said. "There is, however, a problem with one of your employees. We don't have time to discuss it right now, but I am free later this evening."
She looked at me hopefully.
I nodded. "My place or yours?"
She gave me her address. "Bring a change of clothes," she said.
