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Karen was wet all over again by the time John got done unpacking everything, including the flogger and paddles, and laying it all out on the bed. That included the dresses and shoes they'd purchased.
"Want to try any of it on?" he asked, watching her reaction.
Now, she was trembling. Stop it, girl! Stop it! a voice in her head railed at her. You are getting way ahead of yourself. This is a business proposition. This is so you can play a role.
One I've never done in public, she retorted to herself. Except maybe when we went out last night.
Precisely! the other voice agreed. You need practice. Remember, cool, calm and collected. Not a leaf in a storm...
Karen took a deep breath and let it out. "Please, excuse me..." she told him, then grabbed her purse and went into the bathroom. Where she took off all her clothes, put in a tampon and put her panties back on. Insurance, she thought as she gathered her clothes and walked back out, dumping them on the chair. She was pleased at the look he gave her as she entered. After all, he was the one she wanted to impress.
"I think I should try the dresses, first," she told him. "Which do you think should be Tuesday?"
His smile almost split his face and she was delighted. Some part of her was bouncing off the walls inside her skull, yelling Yippee! And her pussy was clenching, hard.
"I think Tuesday should be the sapphire blue one," he told her. "It's sexy as hell, but subdued enough to be around the Pearsons. She likes Oriental and he likes beef, so we'll probably end up in some Japanese steakhouse."
Karen nodded, picked up the dress and slipped it on. "Bra or no bra?" she asked. The dress could be worn either way.
John walked over behind her and zipped it up, then looked over her shoulder to the mirror.
"With," he told her. "You look marvelous without, but they're a bit conservative. So wear a bra, but make it one of the lacy ones, so a hint of naughty is showing."
"Aye-aye, sir!" she told him, then stopped and looked over her shoulder at him. "Um..." she stumbled a little, "uh... Aye-aye John just doesn't sound right..." He just smiled softly and shook his head.
"Okay, and for Wednesday?" she asked, and he was already picking it up.
"The red one. No bra. No pantyhose. In fact, no panties. Saucy and au natural," he told her. "I'm going to suggest someplace with a dance floor and you are going to really distract Billy."
Something inside her objected to that, since it seemed like being whored out by her pimp, but she fought it down.
"Would stockings and garters be okay?" she asked. "And how far do you expect me to go?"
"Excellent! And only as far as you want to go," he smiled. "I just need time with Bob to point out a few things without anyone being around to overhear. If you suddenly find yourself turned on and want to get laid, go for it. I won't be jealous, trust me."
"Yeah, trust me... I know what that means..." she mumbled as she tried on the dress.
"No, really, trust me," he insisted. "It doesn't matter how attracted I feel towards you, I'm not going all Neanderthal on someone because you want to spend time, even intimate time, with them. You and I will work out whatever is between us, between us. With no regard for somebody else's opinion."
Karen wanted very desperately to believe him on that, but it hadn't been her experience. The dress, on the other hand, fit her like a sprayed on glove.
I look pretty damned good, she mused to herself as she examined herself in the mirror. For shits and giggles, she pulled her shoulder-blade length hair up into a Gibson Girl type bun to see how it would look.
"Oh, fuck, yeah!" That wasn't her. That was him.
"You like?" she asked.
"Oh, yeah, I like!" he exclaimed and she saw that he was really lighting up. "Wear it like that when we go to dinner. All three nights. That's awesome!"
"Okay," she smiled. I can get to him, she purred to herself. Now I know I can get to him...
She slipped out of the red one and into the ivory one, the one for Thursday. It was more demure than the others, with a high neck but no back, and the material was so thin, it was almost transparent.
"Pam is going to go nuts," John muttered as he watched her slither into the second skin.
"Sorry, what did you say?" Karen asked as she zipped it up.
John thought for a moment before answering her. He wanted to be honest, but he didn't want to scare her. Finally, he decided the truth would be best.
"I said, Pam is going to go nuts," he told her. "Pamela Morton, James' wife. She'll be drooling over you."
"Um, sir... I mean, John... I've never, um..." Karen started to admit.
"That's okay," he interrupted, reassuring her. "This is all mostly for show, anyway. I don't expect you to get into any situations where you don't know what you're doing, or can't figure it out. All of these people are playing for high stakes, and they understand 'no means no' and what it could mean to them if they ignore that."
Karen felt a little relieved, but only a little. His world of the über-rich-and-powerful was as foreign to her as an alien planet. She knew she was quick on her feet, but he seemed to be counting on it a lot. She'd signed on for the ride... now all she could do was hold on and try to do her best.
"What about Number 27?" she asked nervously as she slipped out of the ivory dress. Putting it on was going to pop the lid off the oubliette and she was scared. She'd pushed those memories into her Forgetery for a reason, and not because she was afraid of them. She was afraid of liking them too much.
He looked at her body language for several moments.
She's nervous, he decided. This is pushing her boundaries. Good or bad, I'm not sure. So, John, what are you going to do?
It took him several seconds but he finally answered himself. I'm going to cook dinner and suggest we save it for later. She and I need to go over tomorrow's meeting notes, anyway.
"We'll save it for later," he told her and confirmed the look of relief that washed over her. "I'll do dinner and we need to go over tomorrow's notes, so we can kick back and take it easy this evening. By the way, was this morning's breakfast okay? Do you want something different?"
"No, breakfast was fine," she smiled, remembering her asinine tirade against him. "Do you want me to pack a lunch for tomorrow? We're meeting on their turf, but there's a nice little bistro with outdoors seating nearby and we could use it to escape, if you want. We'd just have to buy something from them to keep them happy."
He smiled as he thought about it. "Sure," he decided. "I'll get a cooler and some cold-packs and we can put it in the trunk of the car tomorrow. I haven't done a brown-bag in forever."
She smiled and turned away, picking one of her more sedate sundresses from the closet. "I think I'll just slip this on, and cruise the 'Net, or watch TV for awhile," she told him. "You'll let me know when dinner's ready?"
"Affirmative," he told her and walked out of her room, pulling the door shut behind him.
* * * * *
Monday Evening
She'd gotten off five crashing times before he called her for dinner. That was nowhere near a Personal Best for her, but given the circumstances, it was a great relief.
As soon as he had closed the door, she had grabbed Number 27 and taken it to the bathroom, closing and locking the door. As she suspected, without the tampon, she was leaking down her thighs before she got it completely on. He was damned right about that 34-B. Like the dresses, it fit her like a glove, cinching in her waist slightly, lifting her breasts and pushing them out, leaving the nipples exposed.
With the wrist and ankle cuffs, she thought, he'll be able to secure me into just about any position he wants, provided he doesn't want it painful. He said no permanent damage... he didn't say anything about just short of that.
Her clit was so swollen, it was aching, just looking at herself in the mirror. She pulled her hair back down again and put it in a simple braid. Normally, when she let it loose, it hung down midway between the bottom of her shoulder blades and her waist. In a braid, it shortened it up to about the bottom edge of her shoulder blades... plenty long enough if he was into hair-grabbing, but the braid would soften the pull on her scalp.
Things Greg taught me... she thought as she figured out what she wanted to do next. No vibes or plugs, dammit, she thought. I've got my emergency Pocket Rocket. Fuck! I really need to get off!
She went to the bedroom and turned on the TV, putting it on a channel with an adventure movie, to cover her sounds. She went to the dresser and fished out her little vibe, then went to the bed and lay out spread-eagled. Then she pulled her hands and feet into different positions, imagining them hooked in place. Eventually, she lay back, spread her legs and turned on her vibe.
She was peaking into cum number five when he knocked, and she didn't hear it.
She was moaning Oh, God! Oh, Fuck! Oh, God! Oh, Fuck! when he opened the door, and she didn't hear it.
She was thrashing out her cum, convulsing and trying not to cry out too loudly, when he stopped, staring, riveted, and said, "Oh, my God!..."
She heard that.
There was no way to stop cumming, but her eyes snapped open and she saw him standing in the doorway, staring, a look of pure lust on his face. She could tell his breath was ragged and he was trying hard not to react. But he was reacting anyway and his hand was in his crotch, trying to rearrange himself.
"Ahem..." he cleared his throat as he continued to stare. "Um... dinner is served, Karen. Whenever you're, um... ready."
He actually managed to back out and close the door, leaving her in a warring state of desire and embarrassment. But she wasn't done cumming and she wanted that last little bit. So she put the vibe back in play and teased over one more aftershock kind of cum, closing her eyes and fantasizing her boss having his way with her.
When she finally made it to the dinner table, she had taken off Number 27, washed up and put on one of her sundresses. Minus any underwear. She was feeling really, really naughty, even if she was embarrassed. Naughty was her way to dominate Embarrassed.
John looked up from the kitchen with a huge smile.
"Feeling better, my dear?" he asked as he loaded a plate with something.
"Much, thank you," she told him, trying to make it sound aloof.
"Have a seat," he nodded towards the dining table set for two. "If you would like, you could pour the wine."
Trying to be the sophisticate when she knew he'd walked in on her masturbating and cumming was difficult. But pouring the wine seemed like an easy diversion. He'd made it easy for her. There was a tumbler of ice water and an empty coffee cup at each place. There was also a stemware goblet. That had to be for the wine.
When she was done, she sat and very soon thereafter, he first brought out a basket of buttermilk biscuits along with butter, and then plates with Garlic Prime Rib, O'Brien potatoes and Brussels sprouts.
"We are eating simply tonight, if it's okay with you," he told her as he sat. "I've got orange sherbet for dessert. I hope you like the prime rib. It's a thin crust, but I think tasty. Let me know." And then he surprised the hell out of her. He bowed his head, apparently in silent prayer.
She decided not to look stupid and did the same.
God, if you're listening, she thought, please let this man turn out to be one of the good ones. Everything so far is turning out great, so thanks! She kept a surreptitious eye on John and when he lifted his head, she did the same.
There wasn't any talking during dinner. The meal was too good to ignore with small talk. He had been right, the prime rib was excellent, whatever herbs and spices he used were perfect, the sprouts were tender and drenched in butter, the potatoes were just slightly overcooked, but she liked them that way... in short, everything was perfect. And she made sure to rein it in with the wine. One glass over the entire course of dinner.
He insisted on clearing the table and serving up dessert, along with coffee. She was feeling pampered.
"Do you usually provide 5-star service to your employees, Mr. Thompson?" she asked as she enjoyed the sherbet.
"I provide 5-star service to my lovers," he smiled. "You did say, in the car, that you would be my lover for the week, didn't you?"
She sighed and looked at him. Bloody perfect, and she knew she was going to be job hunting next week.
He had to be around 6-foot to 6-foot-1, maybe 160 to 175 pounds lean, very well muscled from how he looked from the waist up, a little chest hair but not a lot, the "ruggedly handsome" face and tousled blond hair. Part Exec-VP and part Puck. And a very noticeable "package" from what little she'd seen before. And she had to admit, that part had her curiosity burning.
In her experience, she was a little bit of a "size queen." Not that a man with less-than-average equipment couldn't pleasure her. She'd just found that for fucking, bigger was better. Although, being honest with herself, she'd admit she'd never had a lover hung like one of the huge porn stars. Her John Holmes dildo was about it. For her, it was just that bigger seemed to hit her in the right places.
"So... what are you thinking?" he asked and she blushed. He eyed her for a moment and then added, "I hope you're not having second thoughts. You will be my lover, won't you?"
She struggled to look at him. "Yes..." she whispered. Then caught herself and repeated, louder, "Yes. I will. I have absolutely no idea what that means for you, but I'm willing to try."
"So... what were you thinking?" he persisted. She blushed again, and shook her head slightly.
"I was um... I was wondering about your... um... equipment," she faltered through her embarrassment, still blushing. Then she got hold of herself and took off. "You're a good-looking man and you know it, and you must have figured out you turn me on but you're my boss and I like working for you and I was thinking about you walking in on me and you growing and just thinking..." she hurried on, ninety miles an hour.
"Whoa!" he smiled again, straight to her nethers. "All that from asking if you were still going to be my lover?"
"Yes," she answered meekly, the bluster gone.
"Well, since I have the unfair advantage of having the image of your beautiful body in action seared on my retinas," he continued to smile at her, "I suppose I should ask, how would you like to satisfy your curiosity about me?"
She didn't hesitate one second. She stood up, slipped off the sundress and sat back down, naked.
"I would like you to take off your clothes, sir... uh, John... and finish dessert with me. Then I would like to move to the couch and be permitted to touch you wherever I feel like it."
That got two raised eyebrows from him, but he did as she requested. He stood up at the dining table and slipped off his shoes, nudging them under the couch's end table. Then, watching her watch him, he undid his belt buckle, unzipped and dropped his slacks, reaching down, picking them up, folding them and putting them over the back of the unused chair to his right. He then stepped on his own chair with first his left and then his right foot, sliding his socks off and putting them with the pants.
He then proceeded to unbutton his shirt with agonizing slowness from Karen's point of view. He slipped it off and exposed his chest and abs, and she felt faint. Like a Greek God, she thought. And he's a briefs guy... a very filled out briefs guy...
He slipped his thumbs and fingers into his briefs and slowly lowered them, still watching her watching him. He let them fall to the floor and stepped out of them, kicking them slightly to the side.
Oh, my God! And that isn't even hard! is what was going through Karen's mind as he paused to let her get a good look before sitting back down in his seat.
Her heart was beating like crazy as she realized that soft, he went halfway to his knees. Even if he's all show and no grow, he's still going to be massive! she realized. Oh, my God...
John had what could best be described as a bit of a smirk as he resumed eating his orange sherbet. Taking his time to play with the frozen concoction on his spoon - licking it, sucking it, all very suggestively before finally swallowing it - had its desired effect. He could tell she was squirming in her seat.
Well, thank you, Great-grandpa Paul, and all your descendents for the genetic blessing, he thought. Every once in awhile it's nice to have being hung not be a pain in the ass! This should be interesting...
They finished dessert in silence. Karen kept her eyes on her food but couldn't stop the images running rampant in her mind.
Jeez, no wonder he's got that bulge, she thought. Even soft, he hasn't got enough room. God, I hope he feels and tastes good. It'd be such a waste if he didn't. She then let her mind drift to what he might be like fully erect and became aware the seat beneath her was getting damp. But at minimum, he is a damned fine kisser, she reassured herself.
When the sherbet was gone, John stood to start clearing the dishes and Karen's heart went back into tachycardia. She decided that even though sitting there and gawking gave her the best view, it didn't make sense and she should be helping with the dishes. So she joined him in the washing up and getting the dishwasher loaded.
As she bent over to put in the soap, he rested his hand on her waist and she nearly upended the box of detergent as the massive shiver ran through her.
"Easy there!" he told her as he removed his hand. "Sorry... didn't mean to startle you."
Karen stayed bent over, reached back, fished around and found his hand and put it back on her waist.
Apparently subtle isn't required, he thought with a smile.
She waited a couple of long seconds, then slowly stood, closing the dishwasher and turning into his arm so that they ended up facing each other and touching.
"It appears that dessert is finished, John," she told him as she pushed the start button. She was amazing herself with her daring. And her self-control.
"You're right," he smiled. "So next would be... the couch!" and as he said it, he swung an arm under her legs and picked her up, just as he had the night before when putting her to bed. He turned and began carrying her to the couch as he added, "gee, twice now I've carried you naked, and you're still as light as a feather!"
Karen would have acknowledged the compliment, if she hadn't been too busy swooning. Her head wasn't the only place her pulse was pounding as she felt him carry her like a baby. He was deceptively strong and handled her with ease. He held her against him as he swung her legs beside him and eased her down onto the couch in a sitting position. She kept her head in his chest for as long as she could, drinking in his scent and the feel of his skin.
Finally, though, he eased his grip and stood up before her, making sure she was comfortable. Which meant the first thing she saw as he rose was his now semi-hard cock dangling in front of her. She could not have resisted the temptation even if her life had depended on it. She reached out and took it in her hand, feeling it swell as the smooth skin slipped over the surface and noting the trimmed pubic hair. She leaned forward and took him in her mouth, tasting the earthiness of it and drinking in his scent, like newly turned loam, not at all acrid or stale.
