Fuck her like you're doing her a favor.

Favors

The door to your office closes. It’s silent save for the heavy breathing, just shy of panting, of the woman before you.

“Well…?”

She pivots to face you, hands clasped behind her back but eyes down, as if unable to help displaying herself, yet equally unable to ignore her embarrassment of it. “Well what, Mr. Saxon?”

You’re not actually sure. Then again, you don’t have to be. “Do I have to spell it out for you, Summer?”

Whatever it is she thinks you mean, she seems quite sure of it. She nods vigorously, and decides your intent is for her to get on with the removal of her clothes. She begins with her skirt, jerking down the zipper to reveal a creamy white hip over the top of her dark stockings. Once loosened, she allows it to fall down on its own as she gets to work on the buttons of her blouse. A wine-red bra, contrasted starkly by the brightness of the red in her hair and the rosiness of the red in her cheeks, emerges as the skirt slips to the floor.

“Stop there.” Her hands freeze on the bottom button, just past where her matching red panties begin.

“You… you don’t want me to take my top off?” she asks, as if puzzled why any man wouldn’t desire such a thing. A legitimate source of confusion.

“What did I say?”

“To stop.” She looks down, ashamed of her brief hesitation to comply.

It’s a good look, admittedly, two massive tits already forcing the wedge shape wider as that final button clings to an attempt at dignity before this stranger with his commodified name. Still, the command is as much a test of power as anything. That it works so effortlessly is as heady as the sight before you.

“Bend over my desk.”

“Yes, sir.” That’s it. She does it. She does it because you said so. She even hurries a little, a tiny after-jiggle rippling beneath her panties with each hasty, bouncing step. There’s no grace to it, no elegance, nothing classy at all about the woman bent over your oak desk, her cheek on its cold surface and her ass in the air. There’s only an eagerness not to disappoint you.

You take a moment, inspecting her, contemplating her. The sight is exquisite, her well-rounded ass thrust high as if to make sure it’s at a convenient height for you. Courteous of her. As to the reality of it, you have to give it a few pats to reassure yourself. A soft whimper escapes her throat. Jesus. Even Ingrid and Avery weren’t this easy.

(Were they? Or did you just not try?)

Whatever. They aren’t here, and this girl is. (Summer. That’s her name. It’s a little hard to remember that objects this beautiful come with their own names.) You take your time admiring; Jenna is gone for the afternoon and your schedule is clear, so there’s no rush at all. After a moment, unbidden, she reaches back and tugs at her panties. It’s an effort to do it without adjusting her posture, but she manages. You let her ease them down over her butt, bunched near the tops of her dark stockings, two plump cheeks framing a pussy as pink as her blushing cheeks, before interjecting.

“Did I tell you to take your panties down?”

“Well, no, but…”

You give her ass a sharp slap. She gasps, which is handy since you may have as well. No resistance, no rebuke. Summer lies there, bent over your desk, contentedly chastised. “But, do as you’re told. Don’t get creative. Don’t assume that I need you to tempt me. If I want you to take something off, I’ll tell you. Understand?”

“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.” She pauses, not looking back at you, her question uttered into your desktop. “Do you want me to put them back on, Mr. Saxon?”

Another slap. You don’t answer. She doesn’t ask.

God, how far is she going to let you take this?

“You know, I think I’d like you better over Jenna’s desk.” She glances back, puzzled – evidently she recognizes your name, but not your secretary’s – and you point, giving her a look like she’s impossibly dense for not knowing. She winces at the implied rebuke and scurries awkwardly over to the office’s other desk, immediately assuming the same pose.

You take a seat at your desk and unfold your laptop.

It takes several minutes of you tapping keys before she says anything. Not that you were doing anything. Not that the display is even on. “Mr. Saxon? Am I supposed to… I don’t know what’s happening,” she whines.

“You’re fine like that. I have a few important things I need to do before I get to idle amusements.” God, what a bald-faced lie that is. “Now be quiet and let me think.”

It’s several more minutes of you pretending to work before she tries again. “Do you want me to come back later…?”

You roll your eyes at her backside. “Summer, I am trying to enjoy your company here. I really am. If you have something so important to do that you can’t give me a half hour of peace and quiet to get this done, then go. Go, and don’t you dare come back. Otherwise, shut up and let me try to take a little enjoyment from those lumps of fat you call an ass.”

Her mouth opens, closes, and she waits. In silence. Not looking at you expectantly, not sighing in boredom, not doing what any sane woman would do and cracking your jaw before storming out of the room. Summer waits.

You give her the half hour. It does require you to turn on the computer and actually attempt some tasks, though she’s one hell of a distraction. Every few minutes she adjusts her posture a bit, rolling her hips to keep her back from stiffening, but otherwise, this gorgeous vixen waits with perfect patience for you to deign to give her a mercy fuck.

You take another half hour.

She waits. As the sunbeam from the west-facing window shifts through the office, it comes to illuminate a pussy positively glistening with postponed arousal.

You stand up. Her body tenses with anticipation. You walk past her, out the office door. She’s not visible from the hall. Not very, anyway, only if someone happens to come within twenty feet or so of the door. You stop by Dawn’s office just because it’s open and in earshot, ask her a few questions about an audit, ask if she’s seen the new thing on TV that people are talking about. Ask it all loud enough that it can be heard in your office. Ask it so Summer knows how pressing your desires are.

You stop by the water cooler, grab a cup. Finish it, then return to the office. Phil steps outside, asks quietly how your day’s going with a smirk that makes it obvious he’s alluding to the redhead he saw you ushering in earlier.

“So far, so good.”

He shakes his head. “Oh, to be you for a day, man.” He gives you a quick fist pump and leaves you to it. You briefly hate that his reciprocation of machismo is actually endearing him to you.

Then you go back in.

Summer hasn’t moved. Doesn’t look up. No more expectant of your affection than the lamp beside her.

“Miss me?” you ask dryly.

“I don’t mind waiting, sir,” she promises hastily.

You can’t help but give a laugh. “You want me that badly, do you.”

“I… I guess I do.”

“Can I ask why?”

Somehow, her expression conveys, of all things, puzzlement. “Why? I mean… why wouldn’t I?”

“Why indeed.” You shake your head incredulously. “All right, come on, get me ready.”

“Ready?”

“On your knees? God, do I really have to–” Summer is already on her knees, though, ripping down your cargo shorts like they were wrapping paper. When your cock, as ready as it’s ever been in your life, emerges, she says nothing of it, inhaling it into her mouth, a breath of needed air to a woman suffocating.

You lean back on Jenna’s desk before her enthusiasm sweeps you off your feet. It’s not the best blowjob you’ve ever had – thanks, Ingrid – but it’s far and away the most eager. The woman is literally drooling over you. It’s so **** it’s almost – almost – a turnoff.

“What do we say?” you tease.

She pulls off only long enough to talk, and that in between frantic slurps with her tongue. “Please,” she murmurs. Then her eyes squint, scrunched up with your cock dividing them. “Or thank you? Both,” she decides.

You let her finish you off. No reason not to; clearly she’s up to the task of getting you hard. Indeed, Summer sucks down what you give her, guzzling down your cum so hard she coughs some up. It’s a little gross, actually, in equal parts splashing across your legs and the top of Jenna’s desk, while still leaving some dribbling down her chin and onto her tits, into her bra, while she catches her breath. “Thank you,” she murmurs again, then resumes sucking without skipping a beat.

You never have a chance to go soft. She makes sure of it.

Once you’re good to go, you halt her with a hand to the forehead. She pushes against it adorably, but only so hard. “I can keep going, sir,” she says, nodding. “I don’t mind.”

“Do I seem like I care what you do or don’t mind?” You can hardly believe your mouth is forming these words, but with the opportunity before you, the ability to push the envelope so far is an aphrodisiac every bit as seductive as this woman on her knees, pleading for the chance to keep blowing you. “On the desk.” Summer once more assumes her bent-over position on Jenna’s desktop, but another firm smack makes her look up and realize she’s made a mistake. With a grace that almost looks rehearsed, Summer rolls face-up, hooking a leg around your midsection to readjust herself in front of you. As she tugs her panties to the side, you’re already reaching for a pair of scissors from Jenna’s pen holder.

Summer holds stock still as you slip one blade in. No doubt she can feel the cold steel grazing crosswise along her slit. With one quick squeeze, you’ve cut right through them, and her pussy breathes open air. The heat emanating from it is palpable to the backs of your fingers gripping the scissors.

“Sorry, Mr. Saxon,” she apologizes glumly for the inconvenience.

You nod as you line up your cock and enter her, as if both Summer’s apology and her pussy are your due. Jerking the cups of her bra down so you can seize a tit in one hand and her throat in the other – nothing forceful, but even in this she can’t resist you – you thrust away in her. The buxom redhead’s jaw hangs open, as slack as her stocking-clad thighs are taut.

“You don’t mind if I come in you, do you, Summer.”

Her eyes dart around for a moment, but the response seems confident. “No, sir.”

“You want me to, don’t you.”

“Yes, sir.”

You give a protruding pink nipple a twist. “Then ask me.”

Summer moans. “Come in me, sir.”

You twist harder. “Ask me like you mean it.”

“Come in me, please, sir. Please come in me. Please.”

“Look at you, begging for a stranger’s spunk. What does that make you?”

“Make me…?” She whimpers as you stab into her steaming little pussy harder than before. “A… a slut, sir,” she decides.

“So beg me like a slut.”

You don’t even know what that means, or why you’d want it. Summer seems to know, though. “Come in your slut, Mr. Saxon. Please. Please. I need your cum. Fill me. Fucking fill me, please, please fucking come in your little slut. Come in me, come like you made me come a million fucking times already. Please–”

You come. It’s a strangely ordinary thing; your body tenses up, your balls empty, and out it goes. You come, like you did in Ingrid, in Avery, into countless Kleenex. Now into this slutty redhead. Summer. You won’t forget that again, probably.

“Don’t mind me,” comes a sudden voice from behind you. Your shaft still buried to the hilt in a red-maned pussy, you whirl. Jenna gives you a soft smile as she sets a small paper bag down on your desk. “Just dropping off that bottle of scotch you asked for, Will.”

“Uh…” Your bravado flees. “Jenna, this isn’t…”

You don’t miss her giving your bare ass a brief (appreciative?) glance. “I know. Sorry, I should have knocked. Guess we can’t go putting a sock on the doorknob at the office, huh? Don’t you worry. I’ll come up with some kind of do not disturb protocol.”

Summer, meanwhile, is busy stuffing her breasts back into her bra, as if lying spread eagle with a cock in her leaves any room for modesty. You withdraw and quickly draw up your shorts, still pooled around your ankles. Freed, Summer rushes to collect her skirt and begins shimmying into it bashfully.

“Jenna, you weren’t supposed to come back in this afternoon. Remember? I gave you the rest of the day off.”

“I didn’t have anywhere else to be,” she replies with a shrug and a thin smile.

“Did you, ah, get yourself something nice?” You remember inviting her to do so in those very terms on the company dime in what has become a failed ploy to keep her out of your hair for the afternoon.

“I did. Thank you, sir.”

“Do I get to see?”

“It’s… not really office appropriate.”

You can’t tell if she’s being funny or not, considering she just saw your glistening cock pull out of some random redhead. “Oh.”

“Want me to escort her out?” Jenna nods to where Summer is still dressing.

“Oh. No, she can… Summer, you know the way out, right?”

You only meant to spare her the indignity of being shoved out by your hovering secretary, but she interprets it the way you’ve been conditioning her all afternoon to hear it. “Oh. Of course. I’ll go.”

Her skirt is still unzipped, her blouse half-unbuttoned and shoes in her hands as she departs your office. Jenna squeezes your shoulder, though you’re not sure if it's to congratulate, to forgive you, or to commiserate the departure of your new toy. Then she takes a moment to pluck a tissue from the box and give her desktop a quick wipedown.

“Oh gosh, Jenna. I’m sorry. I would have cleaned that up.”

“Don’t mention it. So yeah, I’ll head out then, get out of your hair. Sorry to have gotten in the way.”

“Oh, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

“See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah. Tomorrow.”

You’re stumbling to your desk when you hear the door close behind her.

---

Decision time! Tomorrow is another day, so decide what you’ll focus your energies on. Voting is online at my patreon for all patrons.

“Summer” modeled by Elizabeth Renard.

• Focus on your work for a bit. Get to know your staff, the network. This isn’t going to last if you don’t keep impressing the high-ups. Might even make some new friends.
• Today was a bit much. Find Summer and apologize for treating her that way.
• Give the commodity thing one last try, just to make sure it’s not a fluke.
• Try again with that woman Lorelei who gave you the boot today, and make sure she knows who you are this time.
• Find Avery Parker and spank her in a janitor closet.