Chapter 37 – Paris gets Mal off again

As soon as Mal stomps into his office in the morning, I know it’s going to be a frustrating day. He’s upset. While I try to keep an idea of what’s going on in his home life, Mal’s wife is always there to throw a wrench into any plans he makes. And as little as I want to give Mal any slack, she’s so mean that she’s starting to even piss me off.

When he had me call around and find a private chef to come in and make her favorite meal, she decided at the last minute to go out with her friends. The whole issue with the Mercedes was beyond ridiculous and evidently it isn’t going any better at the Land Rover dealership. Mal had me plan his wife’s fantasy weekend trip to Aspen so they could have one last skiing vacation for the season, but she threw a fit because he had to take a single business call on their first morning there and refused to do any skiing or any other activity with Mal the entire trip. I even had to get him a last minute flight back as she refused to let him fly back with her on the private jet I’d booked.

So, obviously she did something this morning to get under Mal’s skin and now I’d have to pay for it with his upset attitude. I’ve at least learned that Mal absolutely does not want sympathy. When he’s upset like this, I need to put on twice the charm and three times the sex appeal. By ten o’clock in the morning I’d been in his lap twice, once helping him write a secretive letter to some corporate bank in Switzerland regarding the McGreggor deal, and once taking notes while he was on a conference call.

I’ve learned my lesson from the last note taking session and always keep an extra pen on me now. As I didn’t exactly have pockets I could use, I had to hook the pen on my dress and bra strap. It ended up being just another ‘sexy secretary accessory’ as Trixie called it. She joked that if I ever wore my hair up, I could always use a pen as a hair pin.

Once Mal is done with the conference call, I take the phone from him and hang it up before bringing my notes up for his inspection. As Mal reads over them his hand lands casually on my knee and starts rubbing up and down my leg. In another strange lesson I’ve learned, I now know to pay his hand no mind whatsoever. It seems that when I wince or get nervous about his hand on me, he focuses on it. When he focuses on it, he wants to touch me more. When he touches me more, or more intimately, it makes me wince again or get more nervous which makes him focus on the touching and makes him want to touch me more… it’s a strange self-defeating prophecy. If I ignore his thumb making little circles on my inner thigh while his fingers strum over my stocking tops, he just plays there and doesn’t even seem to note his own actions.

Just as I’m about to be freed from Mal’s lap, the phone rings. Knowing my role, I bend forward and hit the speakerphone button. “Good Morning, this is Miss Beaufort, secretary to Mr. Malachi Orpheus, Director of Mergers and Acquisitions at K Edison Global. How may I help you today?”

Nika’s voice, while smooth and sultry at all times, is still like nails on a chalk board, “Paris, it’s Nika. Let me talk to Malachi.”

When my finger moves to hit the mute button so that I can get out of Mal’s lap and give him some privacy for the phone call with his wife, I’m surprised when I’m instead pulled back against Mal’s chest as he starts talking to her on the speaker phone. Even when he’s upset with his wife, Mal most often keeps his calm and stuffs his own frustrations away, but this time his voice is immediately gravely with obvious annoyance, “I’m here Nika, what do you want now?”

Nika scoffs, “Oh, so you’re with the slut right now? I should have known you couldn’t even go a day without your office side piece. Let me guess, she’s tucked under your desk in the footwell, ready to resume her blow job once I’m off the phone?”

My mouth drops open in surprise as I realize I’m the topic of their conversation and likely the reason that Mal and Nika are fighting today. “Don’t be stupid Veronica, Paris couldn’t have answered the phone if she was under the desk. We just got done with a phone call and taking notes, so she’s on my lap. I’m not going to fight about this anymore, what do you want?”

Mal and his wife talk for a good twenty minutes. It would have been bad enough simply sitting in Mal’s lap, listening to them if they were fighting, but Nika seems to be trying to arouse him. By the time she comes around to actually admitting that she called to get his permission to fire their gardener she’d wondered aloud at what I looked like giving him a blow job. She describes, in amazingly erotic detail, what my head bobbing up and down his cock would look like. She wondered if Mal would rest his hand on my head, would take a handful of my hair, or would relax back and let me pleasure him on my own. She complimented my puffy pink lips and wondered if I picked out my lipstick and lip gloss specifically because they’d look good wrapped around his girth. She even wondered aloud for over a minute on if I’d crouch down on my heels, kneel down on my stockings, crawl on my hands and knees, or lay out between Mal’s outstretched legs.

The embarrassment for me was double fold. Having to sit quietly and listen to this witch describe me blowing her husband would be bad enough. But sitting in Mal’s lap while he listened to it, listened to his wife who obviously knew how to arouse him, was worse as I could feel Mal’s physical reaction growing under my rear. It was subtle, as the faja wasn’t quite sensitive enough to let me feel his cock growing in his pants but Mal grew hard enough that he had to shift me around to allow room in his pants for growth. And I could only stare at the wall for so long. Each time, however, that I glanced at Mal, he wasn’t looking off into the distance or at the phone. He was looking at me. He was specifically looking at whatever part of me his wife was describing. So not only did I have to hear her describe me blowing her husband, I knew he was imagining those very same acts and was getting turned on by them.

Once Mal finally can give permission for his wife to fire their gardener, meaning likely I’d be searching for a replacement gardener this afternoon, she sounded absolutely giddy knowing full well what she’s done. When the line goes dead, I lean forward and disconnect the line, then return to sitting upright in Mal’s lap. Trying to maintain as much nonsexual professionalism as I can I hold up the notes I’d taken for the conference call and even the added note of ‘hire new gardener’ at the bottom, and ask “Would you like me to type these up and get to work on a replacement gardener for you Mal?”

Mal’s steadying hand leaves my hip and slowly slides up my side as he looks deep into my eyes. His voice is tense, and I’m fairly sure he’s working something out even as he’s talking to me, “She’s upset. The dry-cleaning bill came in, and it was noted that my underwear was in with my office clothes. She’s many things but she’s not stupid and knows that I had sex here at the office. She’s also well aware of our arrangement, that I can not have another sexual harassment claim against me. She knows that means no hiring of call girls. She’s also aware that you’re not interested in a sexual relationship with me. And finally, she’s aware that I don’t come home on Wednesdays as it’s my date night in the city. She’d like nothing more than to see me fail and get fired as her lawyer tells her it would be reason enough for a valuable divorce from me.”

I feel Mal’s erection throb underneath me as he nods, “So she does this. Get me hot and bothered knowing that I don’t have any of my normal relief valves. And since we haven’t shared our marital bed for almost a month now, she knows I’m about to pop without her teasing. In this state, I’m likely to fuck up and make a mistake. And since all I’m working on is McGreggor, I can NOT fuck that up.”

Mal’s brow furrows as he’s looking at me and I’m afraid I know where he’s going. It turns out I was wrong, as he didn’t want me to reach down and rub him off through his pants again. But I was only wrong by degrees. “Come over here and sit next to me.”

Mal stands up and sets me onto my feet before taking my hand and guiding me over to his stylish low slung mid century modern couch. We’ve sat side by side here before when we need to lay out a lot of paper before us or we’re sitting for a casual bite and he doesn’t want to sit at the table, so I smooth my skirt out and sit down next to where I fully expect him to be. But as I sit, I see that Mal is instead undoing his belt and pulling open his pants. With his eyes boring into mine he talks in an almost antiseptic tone, “I can’t afford to be aroused, and I haven’t taken care of this myself in decades. You’re at least fifty percent of the reason I’m in this predicament, so you’re going to help me take care of this issue. Instead of fucking or a blow job, both of which I’d have demanded and received from a secretary by now, you’re going to simply repeat what we did last week. You’re going to give me a hand job.”

Hooking his thumbs into his pants and underwear Mal pulls both down to his ankles before turning and sitting next to me, his cock pointing almost straight up at the ceiling. I can neither move nor take my eyes away from it. As little as I want to compare and contrast, I can’t help but stare. Without a tape measure or ruler, I can’t be sure, but I’d swear he’s closer to nine inches long than six. He wasn’t lying or exaggerating about being turned on as he’s not only erect, he looks like he’s hard as marble. And as if having a long cock wasn’t enough for Mal, he was thick. Like porn star thick.

Mal’s voice rocks me out of the present, making me realize I’d just been staring at his pride and joy for a solid minute, “There’s lotion and a towel in the table drawer in front of you. Let’s not act like this is something other than what it is. You’ve done this plenty of times yourself, so you know what to do. I don’t care what you have to do in your head to make this right by you, but you be Paris, my perky little secretary, and get this job done and then we’ll get back onto our day.”

As strange as it sounds, I feel a little better as Mal mentions that. He’s at least acknowledging that I’m not comfortable with this. That I don’t want this. But more so, he’s admitting that HE doesn’t necessarily want this. Or at least, he doesn’t want a guy giving him a hand job. Hence, he doesn’t want ‘me’ to do this, he wants his ‘Perky Little Secretary Paris’ to do it. And sadly, with the **** he has over me, it’s not as though I have a choice.

Swallowing hard I lean forward and open the drawer to see the bottle of coconut oil lotion and a small pile of neatly folded towels. Pulling out two towels, I squirt some of the lotion into my hand and lube up my hand. After laying one of the towels over Mal’s thighs, hoping most of his cum will go there, I set the other aside and take a deep breath.

As much as I appreciate Mal for thinking that I’ve done anything like this before, my cock is nowhere near his size. And while I’ve masturbated plenty of times, I’ve never had to reach across my body to do so. When I bring my hand up and pause, Mal reaches his arm around my shoulders and pulls me up against his chest. For a moment I stiffen up, afraid he’s trying to direct my head down to his bare lap, but relax when it’s clear he’s just snuggling me close. I don’t dare look up at his face now. I don’t know how I’d react, but I can’t imagine I’d be ‘sexy’ if I looked into the eyes of the man I was giving my first hand job to. Instead, I focus on the task at ‘hand’.

When I wrap my fingers around Mal’s shaft, I let out a soft surprised “oh” as the only reason my fingers and thumb touch is my extended nails. He’s so fucking thick that I couldn’t wrap my hand around him otherwise. Slowly I start moving my hand up along his length, feeling every bump and vein seem to push and press into my palm. When my hand reaches the head of his cock, I continue up until I have a couple fingers wrapped around it and give a little squeeze before relaxing and moving downward. And Jesus, it feels like it’s a long trip down to the base of his cock.

I let out a breath that I didn’t know I was holding in when I feel Mal lean forward and kiss the top of my head. His voice is far more calm and smooth, “You’re doing fine Paris. Just like that. A little faster. Maybe grip a little more. This won’t take long. I’m sure you’ll get better next time.”

I’m suddenly very happy that Mal is holding me close and my face is turned down to his lap as I have to blink the tears away before he sees them or knows I’m crying. For a moment, I was happy that I could get this far. Proud that I was getting this difficult task done. But as Mal hugs me close and compliments my actions, it becomes just that much more real. I’m making hm feel good while I feel humiliated. I’m making him feel bigger, stronger, and more masculine, while I’m making myself feel smaller, weaker, and more feminine. Just staring at my small hand with its long pink nails moving up and down his cock was bad, but hearing him compliment my technique and hearing that I’ll be given chances to improve ‘next time’ make this so so much worse.