Audit Surprise Ch. 02

To the reader:

This is chapter two of a three part story about Marty and Sheryl. It would be best to read chapter one before reading this to understand what happened that screwed up their lives so completely.

A big thank you to everyone who commented on chapter one. I asked for comments before posting chapters two and three because if chapter one was crap I didn't want to post two more pieces of crap and smell up the place. Also thanks for all the suggestions on what should happen in the subsequent chapters. Unfortunately, I already finished both chapters and didn't make any changes. Some of you will like the way I took it and some of you won't. Comment on this if you are so moved. As always all comments are welcome and read.

Thanks again to jo for editing. You did your usual bang up job.

© 2013 by the author.

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For the last year my life has been shit. I did it. It's my fault. There's nobody to blame except me. I totally messed up everything. I messed up my marriage. I messed up my career. I even messed up my mind. There isn't a chance in hell I'll ever get any of it back, but I've made up my mind that I'm going to try.

Exactly one year ago today a man showed up in my office while I was having sex with my boss. There we were standing behind my desk our mouths locked together, my blouse open with my tits hanging out, Brad's hand down in my skirt with his finger up inside me, and my hand wrapped around his cock, when a middle-aged man in a cheap suit walked into my office. I have no idea how he got in because I was positive I locked the door, but there he was standing on the other side of the desk watching us. Brad and I jumped around like crazy people getting everything back in our clothes as he stood there with a stupid smirk. I distinctly remember yelling at him, "Who the fuck are you and what do you want?" He just smiled and asked me if I was Sheryl Hughes. I yelled again, "That's what it says on the door. Of course I'm Sheryl, now what do you want?" He pulled a large manila envelope out from under his coat, held it out toward me and said in the calmest voice ever, "Madam, you are served."

That's the moment my life went to shit.

I've lived every moment since then in a fog, everything before then only a painful memory, everything after that a blur. Only in the last couple months has my mind worked well enough to understand everything that happened. Thanks to a very sympathetic therapist, I now know, and better yet understand, what caused my life to be as messed up as it is. Now I'm going to go over every agonizing moment of what led up to that pivotal moment to make sure I haven't missed something important. If I'm going to try to restart my life I have to understand why I did what I did.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is the captain. We've just received permission to taxi out to the runway and get in line for our departure. There are three flights ahead of us so while we're waiting our turn we'll start the pre-flight briefing video. Again we'd like to thank you for flying Delta for your trip to Boston today." The video monitor above the aisle came alive. "All carry-on items should now be stored securely..."

Blah, blah, blah. I've heard their canned speech a thousand times. I've only got two hours to go over everything before we land and I'm not going to waste any time with something I've heard before. I know the routine.

Now let's see. I've got to start where all tragic stories start, at the beginning. But where actually is the beginning? Did it start when I was born or when got married or when I started at Enterprise or maybe it was the day I learned about my promotion? If my therapist is right everything started in my childhood. But I don't need to go back that far to review the events that led up to my running away from my husband, now ex-husband, and my former home. I need to start when I made the decision to cheat on him.

I remember it like it was yesterday. It was a cloudy Friday in October when my supervisor Brad Paxton called me into his office just before lunch. He said he had some good news for me.

"Sheryl, come on in and close the door," Brad said with a big smile. I sat in the chair facing his desk waiting for him to finish typing something into his computer reminiscing about my time at Enterprise. I'd been working at Enterprise Research and Development and for Brad for eight years as one of a number of Account Executives. My job has been to coordinate all of the processes, tasks, technical documents, and contractor interactions that Brad and the other three supervisors negotiated with fifty or so of our suppliers and end-product clients. I'm good at my job and after the first year felt confident enough in what I did that I thought I could do anything. I was even cocky enough to believe that I could do any of my supervisor's jobs, and sometimes better than they did. I have the education and the prior work experience to handle their job's, it's just that moving into management at Enterprise is like trying to break through a brick wall with a marshmallow, especially for women. I've set my sights on being the first female supervisor at Enterprise and nothing was going to stand in my way. There's still a lot of the 'old boy network' to break through. In spite of all that I get along with everybody from the office errand boy to the CEO and I'm sure everybody likes me too.

"Sheryl, I think I may have some good news for you," Brad said sitting back in his huge executive chair. "What I'm about to tell you is in strictest confidence. Please don't repeat anything I'm about to say. Okay, here goes. Ambrose St. John told the board on Wednesday that he intends to retire next May. That's going to leave a vacancy for a line supervisor position in Logistics. It's fallen to me to make a recommendation for his replacement. Right now I've got a number of qualified people who could fill his shoes but I have in my mind only one, you. Your work has been exemplary, your attitude exceptional, and your knowledge of Enterprise's procedures and contacts beyond what your current position demands. In short you're a very qualified candidate for the job. But there are several others equally qualified candidates; some have more seniority than you. Now I just can't give it to you and bypass everybody else, I have to post it and interview everybody who makes it through HR. But in the end it still comes down to my decision.

"Sheryl, I think you would do a great job, it's just that I can't tell how much you really want to move up in the company. How strong is your ambition? What would you do to show me you really want the supervisor's position?"

"Mr. Paxton, I've worked hard since I've been here to learn everything about everything. There isn't anything I haven't done, no area I don't have experience with, I've even filled in for you when you were on leave, and frankly I've been able handle everything with ease. I'm more than ready for a bigger challenge now and the supervisor's position would be ideal. What can I do to prove to you that I really am the perfect candidate for the job?"

"I've been thinking about that," he said with the same big smile. "I was thinking about getting away from the office where we can spend some time discussing what would be a good way for you to prove yourself. How about over lunch? I have an opening next Wednesday. How about we meet at La Chateau at, say noon on Wednesday? That way we can relax and be ourselves and talk frankly. And I'll pick up the tab too."

"I don't see any harm in that," I said smiling back at him. "Is there anything you want me to bring?"

"No just yourself."

"Thank you Mr. Paxton for giving me this opportunity. I won't disappoint you."

"I'm sure you won't Sheryl. I'm sure you won't."

La Chateau is one of the fanciest restaurants in all of Boston. The fact that it's in one of the many glass and chrome high-rises in the middle of the business district doesn't make it any less discriminating. I remember thinking as I walked to the table where Brad sat waiting for me that I'd have to invite Marty here one day. My dear husband works way too hard and inviting him to a fancy lunch would be a nice treat. Maybe I can even convince him to leave work a little early for some of good loving at home afterwards.

Brad already had a bottle of wine opened and poured a glass for me as I sat down. We talked a bit about the responsibilities of the Logistics supervisor before ordering lunch. I tried to keep the price to something reasonable but Brad insisted I splurge. "It's on the company tab," he reminded me. While we ate I talked about me. I told him about my husband, my education, even what my ambitions and dreams were. After dessert we sat back to enjoy another glass of the fine Merlot and by then I think I told him my entire life story.

"Sheryl, we've talked a lot today about your ambitions and your dreams but you've never said what you were willing to do to get my recommendation. I only want what's best for Enterprise and will recommend the best person for the job, whoever that is. But what can you do to tilt the odds in your favor? What will you do to make you standout in my mind?"

"I don't know what more I can do than show you that I'm a hard worker and..."

"No, no, no, I don't mean stuff you put on your resume. I mean personal things."

"Like what?" I asked. I hadn't really caught onto his train of thought.

"Well you were willing to have lunch with me today, how about next Monday we have lunch to continue our discussion?"

"Okay, I can do that."

"And I want you to think about something. Next Monday I want you to answer this question. Are you willing to do anything I ask to get this job? I mean anything. Don't answer now, just think about it and let me know Monday. I think the right answer may be what tips the scales in your favor. Just think about it and we'll talk.

"Waiter, check please."

It wasn't until I got back to my office that I fully realized what he just asked. 'I mean anything' he said. His 'anything' meant only one thing, sex. I had to decide if Brad's 'anything' was worth the risks and the gains. I didn't get any work done the rest of the day thinking about it.

I thought about it all weekend too. I'm sure Marty saw how down my mood was. Even at night when we made love I wasn't my usual energetic self. Oh, we had great sex but it wasn't our usual falling off the bed two-person orgy. It was slow and gentle and loving. Marty's the best lover I've ever had. Well, I've only experienced three other men before him but he's by far the best. Maybe not blessed with the biggest tool, average from what I gather, but he's the most caring and loving man I've ever met. I weighed the pros and cons of cheating on him to get a promotion at work. By Monday morning I had gone over every aspect, every risk, every contingency in my mind and felt pretty good that I could separate my work life and my personal life enough to get the promotion. I had a plan, if Brad would agree to it. And, I rationalized it was only temporary until the job was mine.

When we were at lunch on Monday I came right out and asked if what he said was what he meant.

"Did your 'I mean anything' really mean what I think?" I asked. "Are you asking that we get together outside of work for a little romp in the hay?"

"Whoa, before I answer, I need to ask you a couple questions first. Are you recording this conversation?"

"No, why would I do that?"

"Okay, then who have you discussed our conversation with?"

"Nobody."

"Okay, then I'll answer your original question. Yes, I want the two of us to get to know each other a lot better, on a physical level. I want to do things with you that I've only fantasized about when you sat in my office. I want to hold you and run my hands all over your sweet body and watch your face as you orgasm. Does that answer your question?"

"About as well as can be answered," I said. "And a promotion is contingent on it?"

"I don't really want to come out and say that but if you're nice to me then I'll be nice to you, tit for tat so to speak."

I leaned over and whispered in his ear, "Okay Brad, I want this job, I REALLY want this job. If it means fucking you to get it, I will. However I do have a few conditions. First, we are never going to do anything after work hours; no dinners, no weekends together, no sneaking off to some sleazy motel for a few minutes. Whatever we do we do at work at lunch time, either in your office or mine. Even though we both have those floor-to-ceiling windows, nobody can see in since the window glass has a covering that makes it look like a mirror from the outside. We each have a desk and a couch and a lock on the door. It will be in our office and no place else. Second, absolutely nobody else will know anything about this. I mean no one! Third, when I say it's over it's over. If I think of any others conditions I'll let you know."

He sat back smiling and I happened to glance down in his lap and saw his napkin sticking up at an obscene tent-like angle.

"I agree," he whispered back. "I think we should schedule a regular lunch meeting on Wednesday to discuss the progress of your work. Say every Wednesday at noon in your office?"

"Okay, just remember to lock the door when you come in."

And it started.

Our first time together was nothing to write home about, Brad may have been as nervous as I was. We kissed a bit as he ran his hands all over me and then he not too gently pulled my clothes off. I stood in front of him wearing only my shoes and he just stood there looking at me. "Absolutely better than any fantasy," he mumbled. He pulled me to the couch and made me straddle his hips. When he looked down he realized his pants were still up. So he made me stand while he pulled them down, and then pulled me back down to his lap, this time impaling his cock in my fairly dry hole. But it didn't stay dry for long. He kissed my neck and my shoulders and my breasts while his hands guided my hips up and down on his lap. Within a few minutes we were both breathing heavy and enjoying the coupling. I started kissing him back and rubbed his chest as I slid up and down on his shaft. Our movements sped up to the point we had the couch bouncing against the wall. Luckily the office next door to mine was empty. I felt his long, warm cock sliding inside me pushing me toward an orgasm. I let my head fall back enjoying the sensation of his body joining mine, not thinking about anything except the warmth I felt between my legs.

Suddenly he froze as if I had broken him. I looked down and now his head was back on the top of the couch. He mouth was open wide and his eyes tightly closed. He came forcefully and I felt the hot liquid splash against my cervix. At that moment I realized I didn't insist on him wearing a condom. It didn't matter, I was on the pill, but I would have to ask him about any diseases he might have or any other partners he might have been with. I'll leave that conversation for later because right now he was finished and I wasn't. I needed to come too. I stood up from his lap and sat down beside him on the couch. He put one arm around my neck and the other he placed over my breasts cupping one in his hand. His face was nestled in my neck and his breathing felt like he was going to sleep. I desperately needed to come and he was going to sleep. So I put my hand between my legs and spent the next few minutes rubbing myself to completion. He never felt my body spasm nor did he hear my moan when I finally let go.

By the time he came to life again I was dressed and standing in front of him looking down at his shriveled, cum-encrusted cock. He looked somewhat embarrassed as he stood and pulled his pants up. Finding his masculinity again, he took me in his arms and gave me a long deep kiss all the while massaging my ass cheeks with his hands. When it was over he left without a word.

So much for our first Wednesday 'status' meeting.

I sat at my desk for the longest time thinking about what I had just done. I had sex with someone who wasn't my husband for the first time since I got married. I started to cry. I just cheated on my husband. But I did it for something I've always wanted, something I needed to prove to everyone that I was good at what I did. Getting that promotion would tell everybody that I really was a good worker. I needed that. Besides, there was no way Marty would ever find out. All I had to do was act naturally when I got home. I went to the ladies room and cleaned up Brad's mess.

While sitting on the toilet using wads of toilet paper to clean the cum from between my legs, I tried to think of ways to not feel guilty about being with Brad. If I didn't do something about the guilt then I might let something slip with Marty. If only Marty was mean or cruel I wouldn't feel guilty cheating on him. But he's not. Marty is the sweetest man in the world. He's never done anything to hurt me or disrespect me and I know he loves me unconditionally. So why am I disrespecting him? For the promotion of course. This promotion would be the biggest thing I've ever done and it would make everyone, especially Marty, very proud of me. Everybody would finally believe that I can accomplish great things on my own. So, I'm really doing this for Marty. He'll never know what I did to get it; I've just got to be careful. All I have to do is keep Brad's activities confined to the office and everything will be okay. And I have to remember to clean up afterwards. I don't want to take any of Brad's cum home to Marty.

I thought about what to do about the guilt for a long time sitting in that stall and finally came up with an idea, maybe not the greatest idea I've ever had but still something workable. For the hour or so Brad and I get together I can pretend that Marty is mean to me and our marriage is in trouble. It would only be play-acting but once Brad finishes then I can go back to reality and think about my wonderful Marty. A bit of a mind game? Sure, but I'm pretending to enjoy Brad's screwing anyway so a little more acting wouldn't hurt anything, just so long as I don't feel guilty about what I'm doing.

The next 'status' meeting wasn't as awkward. This time I gave Brad a blow job and he ate me until I came. His cock seemed familiar in my mouth probably because Brad's was about the same length and circumference as Marty's, however when he came he filled my mouth with more of his seed than I've ever had at one time before. All in all it was an enjoyable experience. And his tongue was very talented as he ate and licked between my legs. When I exploded with my only orgasm, I remembered to stifle my sounds. All Brad heard was a long, deep moan. With Marty I'm able to let it all out and frequently scream.

I did remember to have that talk with him about condoms and diseases and the like. His answers seemed okay and I silently agreed to forgo the condoms. I didn't like them anyway. And I remembered to bring a towel from home to clean myself up with afterwards.

From there we proceeded to do just about every sex act and in just about every position. The only thing I absolutely refused to do was to clean off his cock after it's been in my ass. No way was I going to eat out my own asshole. Everything else I would do. I made sure he left thinking I enjoyed it. Sometimes I did, most times I didn't.

One time just before Christmas Brad had me bent over my desk with his cock plunging in and out of my pussy when my phone rang. Since I happened to be right beside it I looked at the caller id. and saw it was Marty. I motioned for Brad to be quiet and answered it. He never slowed down fucking me from behind but at least he was quiet.

I picked up the phone and said, "Hey babe, what's up?"

Marty's voice sounded happy when he said, "I was just calling to let you know I'm leaving work a little early to do some Christmas shopping. I should be home around the time you get there but if I'm not don't start dinner, I'll get something for us out."