Looking out for the company

• From now on, instead of fancy restaurants, you go to strip clubs for lunch. Several each day. Ass isn't the only thing that turns you on, humiliation does it too, so tip the girls extra to insult you during your lap dances . Don't forget my instructions about finding me a hot, busty chauffeur.
• Alright.

Tom didn't feel like having lunch with his boss, so he went to a sports bar instead. The burgers were more his style of food, the beer was better, and he made a lot of new friends by buying rounds of drinks for the bar on the company credit card. It was a huge improvement.

When he came back from lunch on the second day of this, he passed by Angelique arguing with Janeece outside Mr. Roberts' office. He took a moment to imagine what it would be like to have both women on their knees, sucking his cock, then listened to their conversation.

"I am very sorry," said Angelique sternly. "You cannot attend the party. Mr. Roberts was very clear that after your recent demotion, you can not be trusted with more responsibility."

Janeece said, "But Miss Girard-"

"No argument!" interrupted the French woman. "I do not like it either, but that is the decision. "

Janeece sighed, nodding to show she understood. She smiled weakly, but when she turned around and saw Tom, she glared at him and walked off without a word.

"Party?" said Tom. "I wouldn't mind going to a party."

"It is a work assignment," said Angelique. "A literary agent is having an event with his clients and several publishers. We need to send someone to try and lure some of his less well known writers."

"Why not go after the big fish?" asked Tom.

"We can not afford them. Why does it matter to you?" She snorted laughter and sarcastically added, "Are you going to take the managing editor position?"

"Oh, hell no," said Tom. "I wouldn't mind seeing what one of these fancy parties is like, though. Here, give me the list of clients."

Angelique closed her eyes tightly and took a deep breath to control her frustration at having to deal with Tom. When she opened them, she got a sheet of paper from her desk and shoved it into his hand.

Tom looked over the list. "Wait, Heather Russo. I know her. She's the wife of one of my authors."

Angelique rolled her eyes. "One of your former authors. Dante Russo was a little famous as a chef, so we were able to afford him for awhile. He got a reality show, his wife took over the show and became ten times as famous as him, they're getting a divorce, and everyone wants her book about the scandal. We cannot get her. Too expensive."

Tom's eyes lit up.

Tom didn't have Heather Russo's phone number, but he had her husband's number. Tom called it on the MP network, but her husband didn't have her current information. So Tom got the number for Dante's divorce lawyer, who gave him the number for Heather's divorce lawyer, who finally gave him Heather's number."God dammit, fucking an NBA cheerleader who hit the jackpot is more work than I thought it would be," thought Tom as he dialed her number.

"Hello?" said Heather in a blank voice.

"Hello, Heather. You may not remember me, my name is Tom. We met when you and your husband came to the Roberts Press publishing company to sign his contract."

"I remember you," said Heather's **** mind. "You were the old guy in the cheap suit with mustard stains on it. You asked for my autograph and complained when the French hottie pushed you out of the conference room."

He gritted his teeth. "Yes, that was me. I have a question for you. You clearly want to get back at your husband with this book you're writing. What is your hottest fantasy about getting **** on him?"

"Driving over him with his own catering truck, then getting out and ramming shish kabobs into his legs while he screams."

Tom blinked. "No, I meant your hottest sexual fantasy."

"Fucking someone he hates so he knows how I felt when he fucked that tramp from my yoga class."

"Perfect!" said Tom, thinking about his experience with her husband. Then he started explaining some things to the ex-cheerleader.

"Thank you for bringing me to this party, sir!" said Sandy as she stepped out of his car. Tom didn't have his limo yet, so he'd had to take the Sedan. Sandy was wearing a long, blue, formal dress, but she was still wearing her large glasses and a ponytail. She was a weird combination of formal and informal.

"I thought you were going to ask Rosa for help dressing up?" asked Tom.

"I did, but she's busy moving her stuff into my... our apartment. Do I look bad?"

"No, it's fine. It's probably better if you don't draw too much attention. Just try not to get in the way."

"Yes, sir!" said the young woman.

They went inside the old, oversized house owned by the literary agent throwing this party. Tom's legs were cramping from driving so long to get out to the country, so he walked around, looking everything over. He wasn't impressed. The décor was almost as pretentious as the snotty guests that were wandering around.

Tom took a cracker with some kind of paste on it from a tray offered to him by a waiter. Halfway through the first bite, he saw Heather. She looked just as hot as when he'd seen her in the office three years ago, just as sexy as when he'd seen her cheering for a game two years before that. Pretty, bleach blonde, and fit, she was the perfect cheerleader.

Tom scarfed down the rest of the cracker and headed over to her. Heather turned to him as he approached, clearly unimpressed with what she saw. As he smiled at her, she said in the thickest New Jersey accent, "I know you, right? I swear I've seen you before."

"That's right, Miss Russo! My name is Tom. I used to edit your husband's cookbooks."

She turned and spit on the fancy rug. "Ex-husband. The papers aren't signed yet, but close enough. Yeah, you were the guy with the mustard stains on the cheep suit. Every other editor there was a hot piece of ass, so I made him choose you."

"Well... I'm very grateful for that," said Tom. "I'm hoping that I can be your editor, too."

She snorted. "Why should I publish my book at your shitty, little company?"

Tom moved in closer. "Because we're going to give you way less money than any of our competitors. We're barely going to pay you anything for your book."

Heather started to say something, then stopped. She looked Tom up and down with an intrigued expression. "Why would I want to go with the publisher who will pay me the least?"

"Because that will piss off your husband, your ex-husband, more than anything. You're going to put out a book trashing him, and he won't even be able to say you did it for the money. "

The bleach blonde smiled. She took a drink from her wine glass and toyed with a lock of her hair. "That's a very interesting offer. Let's go talk about it in private."

"Absolutely!" said Tom.

Heather lead him to a private office and Sandy followed. Heather noticed the other woman, but didn't comment on her. Tom had not needed to give his target many instructions, but accepting that Sandy would be there had been one of them. Once the door was closed, Heather hopped up onto the edge of her agent's desk and spread her legs, causing the seem in her black dress to pull apart and reveal one of her shapely legs.

"So, you're not gonna pay me shit for my book? You're right, that would be a good 'fuck you' to Dante. You're going to have to do a little better than that, though."

Tom shrugged, trying to act cool. "Like what?"

She reached forward and grabbed Tom's tie, pulling him closer. "Dante fucking hated you. He said it was because you were the type of low-brow asshole who couldn't appreciate a good plate of panzanella."

"He was 100% right," said Tom.

Heather played with Tom's tie. "Really, I think he was just pissed that he had to work with you instead of one of those big titty editors that was working there. Either way, he wanted to punch your face every time he saw you."

"I could tell. So how does that help you?"

Heather pulled on Tom's tie, drawing his face close enough to hers to kiss him. Her tongue was in his mouth before their lips touched. It was a wet, messy kiss and it drove Tom wild.

The ex-cheerleader suddenly pushed him away. She smiled like a devil and said, "You're going to fuck me, and your little friend over there is going to record it." She looked at Sandy. "Isn't that right?"

Sandy looked at Tom, who nodded to her. "Um, yes! Of course!" She opened her cheap, yellow purse and pulled out her phone. She held it up and started recording a video.

Heather slid off the table and turned around. "Unzip me, stud."

Tom pulled down the zipper, enjoying seeing her perfect skin revealed as the black material of her dress slipped away. She had on a lacy black bra and panty set underneath, but she pulled those off herself. When she turned around, she was just wearing black high heals and black stay up stockings.

Tom was floored. He'd fantasized about this woman for years, and now her perfect body was on display before him. He made himself keep it together as she undid his pants and pulled out his cock. Apparently Heather didn't need him to also be naked for this, since she got on her knees and started sucking him without even pulling down his pants.

"Oh fuck, this is the best blowjob I've ever had!" said Tom. Heather's lips formed the tightest seal around the head of his cock and she sucked it hard. She never broke eye contact as she licked the tip and rubbed his shaft.

Heather dropped his cock from her red lips and stood up, then hopped back up on the edge of the desk. She spread her legs again, revealing the dark hair of her neatly trimmed pussy. "Go ahead, stick it in me!"

Tom didn't hesitate. He impaled the woman with his shaft and immediately fucked her as hard as he could.

"Oh, yes, fuck!" yelled Heather. "Fuck me like a real man! Give my tight cunt what it needs! You like that? You like how tight my twat is?"

"Hell yes!" yelled Tom. He felt like his cock was being squeezed by a vice.

"Aerobics five days a week!" yelled Heather. "Nobody has a tighter twat than me! Nobody!"

"Fuck!" yelled Tom as he drove himself into her as fast as he could. "I can't go much longer!"

"Let me taste it!" said Heather. "I wanna taste it!"

Tom pulled out and Heather jerked him off. His whole body shook as the object of many of his fantasies made him cum in her hand.

Heather raised the handful of cum to her lips and drank it down. Then she turned to the phone that Sandy was holding and said, "Mmmm, good! Ten times better than that watered down sauce Dante puts on the noodles in his restaurant!"

Tom nodded to Sandy and she stopped recording.

Heather turned back to him. "Okay. Send that video to my bastard ex-husband and you've got a deal!"