in medias res

Sophie laid down on the hotel bed as you pulled off the last of her undergarments. Her panties slipped off easily as you got a good eyeful and sniff-ful of her nether regions. A smile entered both of your faces as you unbuckled your belt. A familiar sight, you whipped out your cock as Sophie masturbated herself in preparation. You bent down and kissed, making out as your pants slipped down and your cock reached for its destination.

You found it and plugged away, causing a noticeable impression on Sophie as she grunted with each thrust. She flipped you over, and was now atop, far away from your kisses, as she continued to take charge and push the action forward. You tried to bend forward, to embrace her once more, but she pushed you down and took it all in. She creamed on your dick as you creamed into her cavity.

Exhausted, she collapsed onto you and rolled to your side, as you gasped for air that had never been denied to you.

"Will that be all, sir?" she asked, simply and sadly. You responded with a nod or a yes, enough to convince her to get out of bed and take a shower. She was dressed and gone within twenty minutes, and you were left alone. Always alone.

Three weeks earlier:

Your father had called you into the office of his Chicago media company. "We're letting you go," he said, in the most cruel way you could imagine from a father to his newly-graduated son. You had expected to stay in for years, perhaps inheriting his position as CEO one day.

"W-why?" you asked.

"Cost-saving measure," he responded, succinctly. He gave you a generous severance package and an assurance that it wasn't personal, but it stung.

You sat down in your office for what seemed like hours - your final hours - as you contemplated where to go from here. Your new-found independent wealth was partly tied up in the stock market, but the severance package would have to be used for something more quickly. Maybe a new company. A new media company to compete with your father's. You could use your contacts and resources to maybe start something fresh. You buzzed in your Secretary - former secretary - to see if she'd be willing to join the team. "Sophie, can you come in here for a minute?" you buzzed.

Sophie Hanneman was about to be reassigned back into the secretaries' pool at O'Shea Media Conglomerate when you called her in. You had always been highly attracted to her, but in this day and age, you could not act on it, and she seemed oblivious to your affections. She was also a mother of two kids with a loving husband, despite being perhaps only 23 or 24. Off limits, for multiple reasons.

She did not want to go back to the pool. The day you hired her to be your administrative assistant was the best day of her career, a step forward by working for the son of the CEO who was expected to serve for decades. She knew it was definitely her attractiveness that attracted you to pick her, but she never flaunted it. She never needed to. Still, jealously abounded in this small office space, and Sophie found herself an outcast with others whispering, despite being a very pious, devoted wife and mother, outside of work.

"I'm forming a company," you began, as you simultaneously cleaned out your desk. "It's going to be a small-scale, local media group, but it will grow. Fast." You were spouting off the pitch as it occurred to you. "I'm going to need an administrative assistant - no. A personal assistant. To take care of all my needs as I set this up and..."

"Yes." Sophie said, without hesitation. "I'll take the job."

You were speechless. You knew she could not take on a position as a personal assistant, given her family, but she did anyway. You weren't sure why she was so quick to accept. Maybe she expected a bit more leeway than most PAs got. You don't know. "H- help me with this stuff, and then meet me at my place tomorrow morning," you said, meekly, trying to wrap your head around her decision.

"Yes, sir," she said, as she began gently packing away your pictures and awards in boxes for transport.

You had forgotten almost the whole affair that night, as you went out drinking in sorrow and contemplation. Your fiancé, Tammy, was modeling in France right now, so you and a couple of the boys went to the strip club, and they bought you an escort for the weekend. She was now lying nude in your sheets as you heard the doorbell.

"Hello," said Sophie, cheerfully, carrying several bags as she greeted you at the door. "Where should I put these?"

You were naked except for your silk robe, but felt the need to tighten to string a little further, as you suddenly recalled yesterday's new company plan. "Umm... in the guest bedroom," you said. "Wait... why?"

"Silly," she said, "you hired me as your personal assistant. I assume that means I'll be staying here five or six days a week. We can work out the schedule later. We also might want to talk about payment too, at some point." You grabbed two bags as you led her to the guest room.

"You- you'll be staying here," you said, in the unkempt guest room where your friend Tony had slept a few nights ago. She starts making the bed a little, before smelling it, and then removing the sheets to a nearby hamper.

"I'm guessing you don't have a maid?" she asked.

"She comes every Monday," you replied.

She nodded. "We may want to increase that schedule, if you plan on running the business out of here. I can't do all the maid work on top of my PA work. Hello!"

You turned to see the escort, still naked, standing beside you in the doorway. "You hired another one?" asked Charlotte.

"Oh, I'm not a prostitute," said Sophie, who knew exactly who she was dealing with. "I'm Mr. O'Shea's personal assistant." She had no qualms about politely shaking the hands with the nude woman.

"I'm not a prostitute either, honey," said Charlotte. "Matrick's friend hired me to keep him company for a couple days. Sex is a perk of the job, not a requirement." That may have not been exactly true, but you nodded in agreement with her statement. You did like the ability to not have to bargain with her about what sex acts she was willing to perform and when.

Sophie frowned a little. "Well, it's good that someone paid for her, but if you're going to keep doing this, we can't afford to dole out all this money for, umm, escorts. It'd probably be best if you just had sex with me when necessary."

You did a double-take, as Sophie nonchalantly placed a family photo of her husband and kids on the side table. "W-what?"

"Sex, silly. You obviously have an overactive libido. Don't forget, I maintained your contact list for the last five months. As your personal assistant, you hired me to take care of all your needs, and that seems to be the most pertinent one." She gave her infectious smile while you stood there dumbstruck.

It's true, you wanted to fuck her, but it would never... could never happen. She was married. She was religious. She was conservative. Devout. A model woman in a modern age. What she was saying made no sense. "What- what about your husband?"

"Davey is ecstatic about the new job!" she said, seemingly changing the subject. "It's going to be a bit of a transition, since he'll have to quit his accountant position to raise our kids full time now, but I'm sure the benefits are more than worth it."

"No, no I mean... what will he think about you and I... about us, you know... fucking?"

She rolled her eyes. "It's the job, silly. He's fine with it. I really don't mind." She looked down and laughed a little. "It looks like you don't mind either. Did you want to sleep with me now?"

You realized that your erect cock had now parted its way outside of your robe for everyone to see. "Yes," you said, firmly, speaking with your lower brain rather than any sense of reason. You were about to fuck her.

Charlotte took point, leading Sophie to the main bedroom, as the two women embraced. "I've never been with a woman before," said Sophie, in embarrassment, but continuing as you entered, removing your robe.

Your body was tan and fit, good genes, as you circled while Sophie's clothing was removed bit-by-bit. She wasn't wearing lacy undergarments, just a plain white bra and wider panties than what you were accustomed with. They were gone in a flash with two women in charge of the disrobing. You stopped Charlotte from taking off Sophie's crucifix, giving it a kiss as you let it drop between her large breasts.

A hand rubbed her belly, and descended further down to her light brown-haired pussy. You teased her a little, as Charlotte kissed Sophie before passing her off fully to you.

Sophie laid down, after several gesticulations to wetten the area of entry. Charlotte helped out with her professional expertise, licking and teasing, nibbling and sucking 'til her heart's content, until you patted her away. She seemed to fade off as you entered Sophie, and fucked her, for the first of many times.

Hours had passed, as Charlotte and Sophie lay nude side-by-side. This wasn't right. This didn't add up. Was Sophie some sort of nymphomaniac? Hiding behind that devout figure but always willing and able to fuck you? She certainly had to have been lying about her husband accepting her.

You picked up her phone, and gently unlocked it with her sleeping finger. Stepping to the side, you scroll through her info. Nothing embarrassing in photos. Nothing crazy on her recent browser history. Some research into personal assistant duties, but nothing that would make one think it was a sex-necessary job. You looked at her text messages. Very few and in-between. Mostly to you, for work-related stuff, and her husband, for family-related stuff. She seems to have little relationships outside of her husband and no friends, at least none that she maintains active contact with. Her contact list mostly mirrors yours and is almost all work contacts.

Her messages... ah, yes. Sophie has messaged her husband even tonight. "Loving the new job!!!" "I can't wait to sort this place out", and... "Just had sex with Mr. O'Shea and a woman!!!1! OMG, you were right, he is quite freaky!"

You sighed. Her husband responded with smiley faces and thumbs up. Going back before today, it was all mundane stuff regarding schedules and children's behavior. Maybe some texts that imply they were going to have sex in a cabin about two months ago, but they were so bland and vanilla that maybe it was just a meet-up to discuss tax season.

She openly talked about fucking you with her husband, and he didn't seem to mind. Nor did he mind quitting his job and raising his kids, practically by himself, as you fucked his wife. This was frustrating. You needed answers.

"What is this all about?!" you said angrily, that Sunday morning, as Charlotte and Sophie finally made it to your kitchen table. You were fully dressed, Charlotte was in her negligee, and Sophie had put on some clothing at some point. You were sitting there having re-robed and spent the whole afternoon scouring her phone.

"What do you mean?" said Sophie, innocently, seeing her phone in your hand. "Oh, there's my phone." She did not seem alarmed that you were going through it.

"The fucking! Why are you fucking me?"

She had an annoyed look now. "Like I said before, sir. You hired me for a job, and I am doing it. Just like Charlotte. If you don't want me to 'fuck' you," she said, seeming like she never used that word before, "then don't ask me to. I can procure prostitutes and escorts for you or whatever you may need. I think it would just be better overall if you just, you know, fuck me instead."

You just shook your head, realizing that Sophie was just a much different woman than you ever imagined. Was this all a ruse? Did she intend to **** you or get the cops involved? It didn't matter. The deed was done, and there was a witness saying it was all consensual.

But still, even after all that, there was something off. The seduction, the sex, was way too fast. Sophie should've played a little more coy if she was after something. You turned to the escort in the room. "Charlotte," you asked, "Do you want a job?"