It's the owner of the company.

You herd your secretary under your desk and pull your chair in close so that no one will be able to see that you have your pants halfway down.

"Come in!"

A rumpled looking man comes in. His hairline and craggy face make you guess that he's in his sixties.

"Hello, I?m Mr. Pembrose, the owner."

"Yes!" you say, "Come on in and have a seat!" He closes the door and sits in a comfy leather chair. While he's doing that you put your hands under your desk, lift up your cock, and motion Bethany toward your balls. You smile as she sucks them into her mouth.

"I'm glad you got everything sorted out. We don't usually have executives as experienced as you, so Bill didn't understand that we need to satisfy all your needs. Is the secretary working out so far?"

"Well," you scratch Bethany's head, "I had to teach her a few things, but she seemed to pick them up quickly."

"Oh good. I'm really hoping that you can help out around here. I never really intended for the company to get this big and I need a bit of help."

"Oh really?"

"Yes," says the older gentleman. "I took the business over from my father-in-law 30 years ago. My wife wanted to run it, but he was very old fashioned. I didn't want the pressure, so I intended to keep the company small and manageable. I don't know how it got so big. Just too much good luck I guess."

The two of you smile at each other as if each of you has an inside joke. Bethany swirls her tongue around your sack and you fight to keep your breathing steady.

Despite Bethany's wonderful distraction, you are interested in the old man. But you want the real story, so you wish that he won't hold back. Then you ask, "If you don't want to be running this big company, then what would you like to be doing?"

"Ah," he says, "I'd love to just run off to some desert island with my mistress."

Mr. Pembrose straightens up. "Wait! I shouldn?t have said that!"

You shake your head. "A mistress? Naughty. How long have you been seeing her?"

"A year," he blurts out, "I met her at a strip club during lunch. Oh my god!" He puts his hands on his head, panicking about his indiscretion. "You can't tell anyone about this. You won't, right?"

You lean back and close your eyes, enjoying Bethany's use of her tongue to juggle your balls. Mr. Pembrose sweats for several seconds as you sit there silently. Then you pull a small tape recorder out of your breast pocket. He doesn't know that it didn't exist a few seconds ago.

"Tell you what," you say, "I'll make this easy. Your wife can leave you and take everything when I play her this tape, or..."

Mr. Pembrose bows his head, ready to hear whatever horrible extortion plan you have for him.

"...or you can empty all your bank accounts, embezzle everything you can from the company in 24 hours, and go buy a little island for you and your mistress."

Mr. Pembrose's head pops up. "What? That's your ****? What could you get out of that?"

You give the man a reassuring look. "I like you. But I don't really want to work for you. If your wife takes over when the company is suddenly bankrupt? Well, I think I can come out very well in that situation."