Working 9 to 5

Doralee didn't really mind that Mr. Hart would occasionally grab a quick feel or squeeze. She in fact found it rather flattering. He was just being playful. It was his way of letting her know how much she was appreciated, and how fondly he felt for her. She knew though that many of the other secretaries were jealous of her special role as Mr. Hart's personal secretary and receptionist. She heard the rumors that she had gotten the job simply because her breasts were so large. She didn't think that was true. She knew that she was otherwise very skilled and deserving of the job and, besides, even it was true, so what? If a personal attribute can help you succeed, why not use it? What persons don't try to look good, to present an attractive physical appearance, when they interview for a job, when they want to make a good impression.

But, his groping and squeezing were at times disruptive to her work and she did worry that one of the other girls might see him do something. She had at one point playfully told him that she might just have to handcuff him to some furniture to keep his hands to himself.

Well, Mr. Hart had indeed purchased a pair of handcuffs from a novelty shop and he intended to use them to play a little game. He behaved particularly scampish when she was in his office, continually sneaking little feels, pinches, and squeezes. Doralee kept pushing him back, scolding him, but always with a smile and maybe even a giggle. He kept it up though until she finally made her threat of handcuffing him.

Mr. Hart responded, "Well, perhaps that would be the only way. I don't see how else I can really resist your balloons."

"Oh Mr. Hart," she replied.

"Hey, Doralee, you better run that contract over to Mr. Harrington. It does need to be delivered today." "Golly, Mr. Hart, you're right about that. I plum almost forgot." She had forgotten or, at least, Mr. Hart had kept her so busy, coming in and out of his office for no good reason all morning long, that she had not yet had time to do it.

As soon as the door closed Mr. Hart pulled down his slacks and shorts. However, he did have a second thought, a moment of doubt, but not with regard to the intention, just the details of the plan. Having thought it through, he decided to remove his pants and shorts entirely. His slacks would likely get wrinkled if he kept them bundled at his feet.

His dick was already half erect. Just thinking about what was about to happen was making him hard. However, he wanted to be fully stiff when Doralee reentered the office. He knew he would provide quite a sight: lying on the floor, his back against the couch, an impressive erection standing up stiff between his legs, his hands cuffed to the frame of the couch. He played with himself a bit in order to get fully erect, but he knew he couldn't wait long or else Doralee would already be on her way to Mr. Harrington's office.

Doralee, however, was not to return, at least not for awhile. When she got to her desk she was met by Ms. Violet Newstead. Violet did not consider herself to be one of Mr. Hart's "girls." On the contrary, she harbored considerable resentment towards Mr. Hart, much of it quite justified.

Ms. Newstead had been at Consolidated Companies, Inc., for as long as Mr. Hart. In fact, longer. She could remember when he first came to Consolidated as a graduate of Abberville College. His letters of recommendation were outstanding, particularly from Mr. Peters, one of the more well regarded professors of Abberville. He began as a Management Trainee. Ms. Newstead was the one who in fact trained him.

Ever since then she had been assuming, or at least hoping, that he would return the favor by helping her as well move up the company ladder to her own management position. Instead, Mr. Hart continually favored others in her stead, particularly young men with college business degrees. She understood that the college degree did provide some unique advantages. Nevertheless, she probably knew the company, and how to improve the company, better than most anyone on their floor, even Mr. Hart. There were more than a few times in which she shared with Mr. Hart an idea that led to significant improvements in productivity, ideas that she would hope would result in her advancement. Instead, he just seemed to keep her under his thumb, using her as his private brain trust to promote his own career. In sum, she was not a particularly strong fan of Mr. Hart, particularly with respect to how he treated, "his girls."

Violet was in fact coming to see Mr. Hart about the Harrington contract. She had been informed that it had not yet been delivered. She reminded Doralee of its importance. "Oh yes, Violet, I'm on my way right now."

Violet didn't like it when Doralee left the floor. "When you're away that only means one thing," that Mr. Hart would ask Violet to run errands for him. The intercom buzzed. Violet pushed the button. "Coffee, Doralee, no sugar, just some Skinny and Sweet."

Doralee responded. "Sir, but, um, I was just about to deliver the contract."

Mr. Hart sounded annoyed. "Forget the contract, Doralee. You get that pretty little behind back here with some coffee, you hear?"

"Yes sir." Doralee knew better than to disappoint Mr. Hart. She flipped off the intercom. "Let me first take care of Mr. Hart, Violet, and I will run the contract over later."

Violet scowled. She hated getting Mr. Hart his coffee. However, delivering the contract on time was more important than her self-esteem. She could run the contract over to Mr. Harrington herself, except that it would take over an hour and she had much too much to do. "Doralee, you deliver the contract now and I will get Mr. Hart his coffee."

"Yes ma'am," Doralee responded. Ms. Newstead was the floor supervisor and, besides, she knew it was the right thing to do. Mr. Hart was being such a scamp today that it would be best to take care of business for awhile.

When Violet was preparing the coffee she could not deny the fantasy of putting in some rat poison rather than Skinny and Sweet. But, instead, she just sighed and swallowed her pride.

She returned to his office and politely knocked on his door.

"Doralee, yes," he called through the door. "C'min, as I have something for you as well."

Ms. Newstead turned the knob and pushed the door open.

Both of their jaws dropped as they were equally shocked by the sight they saw. Ms Newstead might have had a better reason to be shocked: there on the floor, leaning back against the couch, was Mr. Hart. But, it was Mr. Hart with no pants. He was bare naked from the waist down and, even worse, he was sporting a rather prominent erection.

"Mr. Hart?!" she asked, not quite sure what to say.

"Violet, my gosh, shut that door!"

"Yes sir," she instantly agreed. She slid quickly into his office and shut the door; in fact, locking it.

This was not, however, precisely what Mr. Hart had in mind. "Violet, I meant for you to be on the other side of the door."

She turned to him, the initial shock worn off. She crossed her arms under her breasts. "Mr. Hart, are you sure that is what you want?"

"Miss Newstead, you have clearly caught me in an inopportune moment. Now, please, do respect my privacy."

Ms. Newstead, however, wanted an explanation. She felt that she certainly deserved one.

"Mr. Hart, were you intending on exposing yourself to one of the secretaries? Because, if you were, you do realize that would be against the law, as well as company policy?"

"Goodness gracious no, Miss Newstead. I was just preparing for a personal time. I was certainly not intending on anyone just walking in. I neglected to lock the door. That is my fault. I apologize, now will you please leave this room."

She recognized that he was lying. He had clearly thought it was Doralee at the door. In fact, she then noticed that he was not getting up, nor was he even trying to cover himself with his hands. He just kept them hidden behind his back. He was trying to cover himself by moving his knees up to his chest. "Why aren't you reaching for your clothes, Mr. Hart? Are you hiding something behind your back?"

Mr. Hart spoke in his most authoritative voice. "Miss Newstead, I must insist that you leave at once. I am ordering you to leave my office. I am, after all, Vice President of Consolidated Companies. I am telling you to return to your desk and resume your duties."

Ms. Newstead, however, would not be intimidated. She felt that she now, finally, clearly, had the upper hand, a very powerful upper hand at that. "You might be forgetting, Mr. Hart, that one of my responsibilities these past years has been to clean up your messes and cover your butt, and, as far as I can see, your butt is pretty much right out in the open."

Mr. Hart recognized that she was not going to simply acquiesce to his authority, and she definitely did have him in a very awkward situation. "Ms. Newstead, yes, I'm sorry. Please, if you just leave right now, let me regain some dignity, I will certainly look favorably on you, no, let me correct that, you will receive the most favorable quarterly evaluation you have ever received, anyone has ever received."

He offered so much so quickly that Ms. Newstead knew that she could in fact get much more. She looked around the room, looking for some clue as to what might have been going on here and, then, she spotted it: keys. Keys to a handcuff were sitting on his desk. What were they doing there, while he is sitting on the floor, butt naked, with an erection? In any case, he was certainly at her mercy now, and she was not about to let this opportunity slip by without milking it for all it was worth.

"I think I deserve more than just that, Mr. Hart."

"What then?" He was feeling increasingly panicked. If this did in fact get out, he might indeed be in considerable trouble. If only Doralee had come back right away. He had called for his coffee. She said she was coming. What went wrong? If only he had at least kept the key to the cuffs in his hand. That was going to be part of the fun though, being at the whim of Doralee, imagining her somehow taking advantage of it. Well, Miss Newstead now had the advantage and he needed to do whatever was necessary to get himself out of this mess. "Whatever you want," he finally submitted.

"I want the promotion as manager for distribution. That position is open, I am the most qualified, and I deserve it. If I don't get, I will take pictures and send them up the line."

Mr. Hart stared at her, annoyance, even anger, clearly etched across his face. He was quite surprised at her demand. It wasn't that she didn't deserve the job. She certainly did. She was indeed the most qualified. She should have been promoted years ago. He kept her as his floor supervisor and office manager largely because it served his own interests.

But, as he thought about it, perhaps it was time for her to move on. He certainly wouldn't want her around the office after today. In fact, he would now like to get her off the floor as soon as possible. "Yes, fine, agreed."

Violet knew that she would still have to take some pictures, just in case he reneged on their agreement. But, she wasn't done with her demands. She stepped up toward him, walking now quite authoritatively herself. She stopped when she was standing right in front of him, towering over him.

"One more thing."

"Violet, now don't push your luck."

Violet smiled. Luck got her into this position, but it wasn't luck she would use now. She bent over toward him, pulled up her business skirt until it reached her thighs, and then reached up underneath to grasp her panties.

"Violet, what on earth are you doing?" Mr. Hart was sincerely confused. Frankly, this was the kind of fantasy he was hoping to achieve with Doralee. It could not possibly be happening with Violet.

As he watched her wiggle her panties down her thighs, he could feel his cock beginning to swell. It had quickly fallen once Violet had entered his office. Violet was an attractive, appealing woman. She reminded Mr. Hart of a comedian he used to like, until she did this movie about sexist employers. No, the problem was precisely the fact that he was now under the thumb of Violet. But, there was no better way of getting back on top than having his way with Violet. Doralee was more attractive than Violet, but having sex with Violet would have its own appeal. The woman that always seemed to resent him, who resisted whatever hints and advances he had previously made, was now going to sit right down on his cock because just the sight of his hard dick had apparently turned her on. She was going to mount him and ride him like a cowgirl until she exploded in ecstasy. The changing whims of the gals in the secretarial pool never ceased to amaze him. Who would have ever thought this of Violet?

Violet was smiling at him as she slowly pulled down her panties, her eyes fixed firmly on his.

Mr. Hart smiled back. He even lowered his knees to show her his cock, once again becoming quite stiff and proud.

Violet, however, did not look at his cock. She didn't her take her eyes off of his. When the panties were at her ankles, she stood back up straight and kicked them off to the side.

She then got her legs on either side of his, stepped forward even closer, raised her skirt, and kneeled down, slowly bringing her pussy closer and closer to his increasingly shocked face.

"Violet, my gosh, what are doing? What do you think you are doing?"

"You're going to lick me, Mr. Hart. You're going to give me the promotion I deserve for all of my hard work, for all of my skills and credentials. And, as well, for all of the abuse I have taken from you, you are going to lick, kiss, and suck me, Mr. Hart."

Mr. Hart was not particularly excited about performing oral sex on women. He had done it a few times, but he only rarely enjoyed it. It depended on the woman, and the context. This was not one of them.

"Violet, Miss Newstead, where is your dignity? Are you absolutely crazy?"

Violet got on her knees on the couch, crouching over his head. She shifted her position so that she was firmly placed, and then lifted her skirt over Mr. Hart's head, tucking his head underneath her tight skirt, then pushing his head so that he was squeezed in between her thighs.

Mr. Hart continued to argue, but his voice was now rather muffled. "Miss Newstead, Ms. Newstead, please, this is really inappropriate. I must insist that hmphf." The last word was cut off as Violet's cunt was crushed against his mouth.

Violet enjoyed oral sex a great deal. She enjoyed doing it for a man. She had performed oral sex for her husband quite often throughout their marriage, and he had returned the favor tenfold. He knew how much she enjoyed it, and he had been very willing to please her in that way.

Violet doubted that Mr. Hart would be very good at it; certainly not as good as her husband had been. It wasn't that Mr. Hart didn't have impressive oral skills. He was a good speaker. He had demonstrated a keen ability to talk his way out of quite a few jams. Now she would see if he could use his facile tongue in other ways.

But, she wasn't doing this simply for the physical pleasure. There was a symbolic pleasure, a contextual pleasure, that would more than compensate for any inadequacies of skill Mr. Hart might have.

She had Mr. Hart, specifically his head, firmly gripped between her thighs. His face was crushed against her pussy. She smiled with delight. He would have to give her the promotion she deserved. She would be able to leave this floor, get out from under his thumb, and do it with the kind of gesture that was so very appropriate. She grinned at nobody in particular as she began to rub and circle her cunt against his lips. "Now be a good boy, Mr. Hart, and give your new Distribution Manager a good bye kiss."

Mr. Hart had no choice. It was quite uncomfortable, stuffy, even stifling, under her skirt, her cunt almost smothering him, his nose squashed against her abdomen, tickled by her hairs. But, as she began to grind against him, he brought out his tongue and explored her thick vaginal lips.

Ms Newstead grabbed the top of the couch to brace herself, and used her right hand to further mash Mr. Hart's mouth against her cunt. "That's more like it, Mr. Hart. I knew you had it in you. Now you lick it like it's ice cream and candy."

She crushed and squished her pussy against his mouth, grinding her cunt lips against his tongue. She could feel that he was having difficulty controlling his tongue, using it effectively. He was trying to get his tongue into her cunt, up inside, but her movements kept disrupting him, frustrating him, but that was all fine with her. She was the one now in control. It was she who was using his tongue, his lips, his mouth, to pleasure herself.

And, it was working. She could feel herself getting wetter and wetter with his tongue, and her power. Her wetting was also making it even more uncomfortable for Mr. Hart, his face becoming damp, actually soaked, with her feminine juices.

Mr. Hart could tell that she was getting excited, but that in fact was making it easier for him. It was messy, sloppy, and demeaning, but it was still appealing, erotic, to be making Violet get so aroused, excited, and quite noticeably so. This really wasn't so bad. He was concerned that she might tell some of the other girls of how she had used him. Perhaps even worse, some of the guys, but how could a guy not get aroused at the sight, well, the feel, of a woman getting so sexually aroused, particularly a woman who otherwise did not appear to even be interested. His cock, once again, worked its way back up. Ms. Newstead's back was to Mr. Hart's cock. She could not see that he was also getting excited. She was, in any case, lost in her own passion. Her heart was beating fast, her breathing accelerated, gasping with each grind of her hips. It had been awhile since a man had done this for her. It was not Mr. Hart that she had expected to be the next one, but she supposed any port in a storm, a port she was in fact assaulting with her cunt, and a storm of passion building inside of her.

She shifted down a bit, to press her clit against his tongue, her hard clit. This was even better, and he responded well. He worked his tongue hard against her stiff nub. His mouth was getting filled with her juices, hairs breaking away and working their way into his mouth, up into his cheek and teeth, and even down his throat, but he continued to lick and lap at Violet's clit as it was crushed against his tongue. It felt that she might even break his tongue, she was grinding so hard against him.

She was getting so close. It was such sweet revenge. Mr. Hart was finally having to kiss her behind, rather than the reverse.

Wait! Her eyes opened wide.

She suddenly pulled away.

Mr. Hart was confused. She didn't seem to have cum. Perhaps she heard something? What was she doing? He could tell that she was shifting her position, moving around on the couch, but keeping his head engulfed under her skirt.

It was quite a bit of work, turning around while keeping his head buried. She had to slide off the couch. But, once she was finally turned around she sat back down, back down on his face.

Mr. Hart could now see, or at least feel, what she was up to. She apparently wanted him to lick her clit this way. Apparently, this odd position would be more pleasurable for her.

However, she was sitting down too far forward.

He tried to help by slipping down farther, but the cuffs wouldn't let him, nor would she let him. She reached down, under her skirt, spread the cheeks of her butt, and dropped down suddenly; dropped down right onto his mouth, her butthole right onto his mouth. Violet had decided that he should indeed kiss her behind, literally as well as figuratively.