Promote her to head secretary

You're horny again. Of course you are. You just transformed your bitchy rhinoceros of a boss into a blonde bombshell devoted to your every desire. It's a wonder you didn't split your pants in the process.

"I'm never going to be able to negotiate with Roxanne with this distracting me," you say, indicating your tented trousers.

"Oh, Mr. Peters!" KiKi exclaims with a little hop that sets her tits to jiggling. "Please, let me help you with that! How would you like me to get you off?"

"Well, we wouldn't want to make a mess in a potential client's office," you reason. "It'll be best if you're able to swallow any evidence."

"Oh, yes Sir, Mr. Peters, Sir!" KiKi nods in enthusiastic agreement. "You just think of everything, don't you? Smartest boss ever!"

"I have my moments," you concede.

She kneels before you and undoes your pants with practiced efficiency. You pat her blonde head and indicate you'd like to sit down for this, taking the chair Karen had occupied when you came in. KiKi dutifully follows, walking on her knees.

"Are you comfortable Mr. Peters?" She asks solicitously, one hand delicately on your engorged cock, anxious to begin but wanting formal permission.

"Quite comfortable, KiKi," you assure her. "Do go ahead and suck me off now."

"Yes Sir, Mr. Peters, Sir!" She says with a broad smile. "And, may I add, thank you for the opportunity!"

"You're quite welcome, KiKi," you say as she takes you into the mouth you built for just this purpose. "You are quite welcome indeed!"

She starts in slow, savoring the experience, exploring textures and surfaces, learning all she can, her big green eyes focused on your face through her big round spectacles, adoring, but also keen for any sign of displeasure with her performance. You give a contented sigh and she smiles around your cock, her existence validated.

And then she starts to bring the job to her blow job, picking up the pace, taking you deeper and deeper with every bob of her head. Every three or four bobs, she has to push her glasses up the bridge of her pert nose, lest they fall on your cock. You consider telling her to take them off, but decide you find it adorable and enjoy making her juggle one more task as she works your cock. You never complained when she gave you extra work, back when she was your boss. It was only fair.

"You are a remarkable cocksucker, KiKi," you say after a while, stroking her head affectionately.

She pulls her head back, releasing your cock with a 'pop' but continuing to worship it with her hands as she gasps out "Thank you, Mr. Peters, sir! Best part of my job! Best part of my life!"

And then you're back in her mouth and she manages to kick it up another notch, her eyes watering with the effort.

You could come. Seeing her like this, you could shoot your wad right now. But you don't want to. You want her to keep going. You want her to drive herself to exhaustion in her effort to suck you off. You look up at the ceiling of Roxanne's office and grin. Your remote-granted stamina has left you with a lot more self-control than you used to have.

You looking away seems to have gotten to KiKi's self-esteem, as her technique becomes more frantic and her glasses do, indeed, end up falling off her face, ignored as she devotes all her effort to getting you off.

Knowing it will drive her nuts, you start fiddling with the remote. Roxanne is still frozen with her concerned look at where Karen was sitting when you paused her, a place you now occupy. You find the 'Get Naked' button again and press it so you can make better informed plans for the future.

The tall South African woman is VERY fit. She has a runner's body, her dark skin taught over strong muscles, her small breasts the only noticable reserve of fat. getting squeezed between those thighs was definitely going on the to-do list. A pity you can't see her ass from this angle.

KiKi has started whimpering and making **** sounds as she has gotten ever more **** while you pay attention to another woman as she blows you. You take pity on her and smile down at her, a ray of sunshine on her storm-tossed self-esteem, then grab a fist of blonde hair, roll your eyes back and let go as she gives a choked squeal and then swallows in **** gratitude.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but...GOOD LORD!" Says someone from the office door that you suddenly realize you probably should have locked.