A Meeting With HR

You were five minutes early, as you have been every meeting in your professional career. It’s part of the package. You get paid for your hours. You show up for your hours. You make a ton of money for your hours. Standard routine.

But you were changing things, now. You looked at your gold Rolex, a different model than the one your old company had gifted you. That was thrown in a dusty bin somewhere in your house. You still had four minutes to go. You fiddled with your suit and tie. They’re both exquisite. Different. The navy-blue fabric, custom-tailored for your fit frame, goes perfectly with your combed hair and focused gaze. And of course, your handsome features. Your jawbones are sharp and your chin is at a good length.

You weren’t quite model-worthy, but you’ve never had a woman complain about your features. You looked again at the gold Rolex. Three minutes to go. This model is better, you decided arbitrarily. It doesn’t bear the history of the other one. You patted down your purple shirt, so dark as to be black in the lighting outside HR’s office, in an old habit. And a new color. Your shirts were never wrinkled in the morning. Neither were your dress pants, a different shade of black. Night however…

The door opened. The flustered woman took you in. You did the same. Her Italian heritage shined through in the shape of her face, early thirties by your guess. Glasses covered her brown eyes. The white blouse she wore complimented her average chest, layered over the hints of a black bra the same color as her pony-tail. Her skirt was also black and went down to her thighs, and her feet wore five-inch red heels with red socks. They matched her red nails and lips.

“Sir, I am so sorry for making you wait. Please come in,” she said, blushing and trying her best to be composed. You saw Jane on her name-tag.

“I’m early. It’s no problem, Jane—if I can call you that?”

“Of course.”

“I just wanted some clarification, as per my email. It shouldn’t take too long.”

You both settled into the corner office. It had a big, brown desk with two monitors, personal decorations showing the highlights of Jane’s time at college, and a nice view into downtown. Your previous office had been better, but you weren’t here to judge.

“Let’s get to it. Your question, then, that you didn’t want to ask online?” Jane had steepled her fingers together and was looking at you with full attention. This was likely her biggest task of the day, you thought. She had to make sure the big hotshot was settling in properly.

“Yes. You see, one of the privileges afforded to me, let’s me…fuck anyone I please. If you’ll pardon the language.” You saw no point beating around the bush. You wore a perfect poker face. If someone popped out with a camera or a recording, you’d come across as professional. If this was a joke, you’d laugh without humiliating yourself. And quit later for a better offer.

“That.” Jane said in a full blush. Her brown eyes didn’t meet your own, darting across the room. They settled on a picture of her at graduation, a decade younger and full of hopes and dreams. “You had talked with the CEO, right?”

“I did.”

“Well. Umm.” Jane fiddled with her hair, looping a lock over her finger. Your eyes traced the rise and fall of her chest, inches from her distracting hand. When you locked eyes with her, you realized she saw you checking her out. But she didn’t rebuke you or ignore it. A half-nervous smile was presented instead. “It was something we all agreed with.”

…You could scarcely believe it.

Jane went on. Her voice was high-pitched, like she wasn’t ashamed of what she was doing, but what others would say. “We all want the company to succeed. The CEO gave us a stake. Once we go public, we can sell it or keep it or do whatever else. But only if we go public. Times…are tough. Some opportunities can’t be passed up. Especially for a small business. We had to offer you something to stand out.”

“Your bodies.” Your tone was neutral through experience in high-stress situations. You were still in disbelief at it being true.

“Yes. Our bodies.” Jane wiped the front of her forehead, sweating at your scrutiny. Though she had relaxed a bit. Must be because you haven’t screamed or yelled thus far. Your old company always said you were easy to work with. Shame they never worked with you in the previous year. “We’ll accommodate your requests. Just make us a lot of money.”

The last bits of hesitation were visible in her stiff body language. And continual blush. She wasn’t afraid of what she had agreed to, but how you would take it. You should probably reassure her. The whole situation was strange. But you didn’t want your…fuck-colleagues to be nervous around you. Or think you were judging them. You were going to stick around now, after all. You sighed. “I’m not going to shame you for trying to get ahead however you can.”

“Good. Good.” Jane gave you her first sincere smile. “And I’m not going to say anything bad about you…accepting that. None of us will.”

“Good. Do you have anything else you wish to discuss?”

“I should be asking you that,” Jane giggled, relief heard in her tone. Her brown eyes briefly flicked over your body. “But no.”

“Alright. I would like a handjob.” Your tone was so matter-of-fact that she took a couple blinks to process the words. Then she let out another giggle. A hand covered her mouth. Her blush extended to her ears.

“Of course you would, sir.” Jane spoke in a light voice, like you had requested coffee. And made an inside joke while doing so. When she got up, walking over the desk with a sway in her hips, she was almost absent of any nervousness. Now that your deal had been reaffirmed, the both of you knew where you stood, and what to do.

For Jane, that was kneeling next to you. You adjusted your chair to give her more space, to her thankful smile. Then a short laugh as she processed what she was thankful for. A smile crossed your face, too. It was good that you two could have humor. It meant she was comfortable with what was about to occur.

“Untie your hair. Keep your glasses and your clothes as they are.”

“As you say.” Jane untied her hair with one smooth motion, her black locks flowing down her shoulders and to her mid-back. Some lost themselves in the black bra peeking through her medium-sized cleavage. She neatly placed the hair-tie on her desk with a tap. Her red nails then traced their way up your pants. Like playing a spider, her fingers outlined your tent with a teasing smile.

Two fingers caught your zipper and pulled down. You followed the path of her arm, over her cleavage, and up. Jane caught your eyes with a pleasant blush. If she wanted to have fun with it, who were you to say no?

You nodded at her work. She nodded back, a different flush beginning to overtake her, as she popped the button of your slightly-different-black dress pants. One delicate finger traced the tip of your cock, hidden behind your boxers. She looked back at you, licking her lips.

“It’s a nice size, sir. Help me get it free?”

You did. You adjusted yourself slightly, as she pulled your cock free and your boxers down so they wouldn’t press against your shaved balls. Jane’s red lips were inches away from the erect mast, six inches in size. She chewed them together, then let a string of saliva drop onto the tip. Her left hand settled onto the white fluid, before gently coating over the organ.

“You’re doing good,” you said, encouraging.

“Thank you, sir.” A hesitant look overtook her. You gestured at her, curious. She said, “I’m happy to be good at foreplay.” Several giggles escaped her.

“You sure are,” you said with a charming smile. “And I’m glad you can have fun with this.” She gave a sincere look at that. Like you thought, you were easy to get along with. Your right hand—the one without the Rolex—grabbed a fistful of her black hair and pulled her a little bit closer. She gave a pleased gasp. You could feel her breaths now, down below. She let out another string of saliva onto your cock, half-smiling.

Her other hand settled onto the new white fluid, coating your organ one more time. Then both hands began to gently pump up and down. Her red nails stayed clear of any skin, but they were memorizing when she would twist lightly along the girth. “You like it, sir?”

“I sure do.”

“Are you close?” Jane said, curious and licking her lips. Her make-up and white blouse were as displaced as a light jog. You held some of her flowing black hair, though not enough to make cleaning up difficult. She could go outside right now and no one would think she had given you a handjob. Or your coworkers would, but they were just as likely to think she had fucked you.

“I will be in several seconds. I want to cover your face and glasses.” The tightening in your balls was a reliable indicator of when you were close. So was the throbbing in your cock, soon after. And you had no reason to prolong your release.

“If you wish to, sir,” Jane said, tone trying to be neutral but failing to hide her interest. She had gotten well into the act. The woman in her early thirties adjusted the angle of your cock to her face with another licking of the lips. Both of her hands pumped you up and down, eager to see you cross the peak.

Your hand gripped her hair harder, forcing a pained-yet-pleased gasp from Jane, as you reached orgasm. You gave a low moan of relief as the first spurt covered her glasses, invisible to her closed eyes. The next covered her left eyebrow to her hair. Her red lips were covered by a third, a drop of cum spilling past a slightly open mouth. The fourth and fifth covered her right cheeks.

But Jane wasn’t done yet. Eyes still closed, she moved closer to your softening dick, and pumped several last drops out. They landed on the middle of her black hair, like stars against the night sky.

“Fucking amazing,” you said.

Jane gulped. Then she said, red lips coated with white cum, “Your welcome, sir. It wasn’t bad at all on my end.” Then she took a hand off your cock, fingers trailing behind in a teasing manner, before tracing her red lips. She collected the drops and inserted them into her mouth. She sucked deeply, before swallowing with eyes shooting open. A heavy blush overtook her, yet her brown eyes stared into yours behind foggy glasses.

Her touch finally left your cock, as the other hand parted. You let her hair free of your hand and grabbed her some napkins. A couple drops had fallen onto her white blouse, but they would be invisible with a little clean up. Her glasses and face would need a trip to the washroom. Especially her hair. In comfortable silence, Jane wiped it enough to pass a casual glance and you fixed your pants and boxers.

“…I hope you enjoy your time at the company,” she said as you were leaving.

“I will, Jane, I will.”