Getting the Story

"We'll discuss it, Lindsay."

The dial tone that followed made her shout "Fuck" loud enough to be heard through half the office.

Lindsay Callahan would generally die before wearing a skirt. She owned two. A longer, fuller one for weddings and funerals. A shorter, tighter one for clubbing with Julie. On Tuesday she wore the latter along with a v-neck sweater and no bra. She wanted details from Charles Oster.

Lindsay had never been in a gated community before. She wasn't sure the surly guy at the gate would let her and her battered Honda Civic in. But after accommodating his prolonged, blatant looks down her sweater, she was allowed to enter.

Where Lindsay grew up, there were five houses to every acre. Here, there was one house for every five acres. The driveways were tree-lined and long enough to have their own street names. Luckily, the extravagant mail boxes had numbers and Lindsay eventually found the Oster mansion.

The semicircular drive enclosed a pond inhabited by ducks she could only assume were wild, but Lindsay wasn't betting on it. All around her, towering trees let just enough sunlight in while, at the same time, providing a totally isolated atmosphere. As she got out of her car, the magnitude of the house itself finally struck her.

The brick exterior reminded her of the old courthouses she had seen in New England villages. However, the Oster residence was much, much more massive. On either side of the center door windows seemingly stretched forever. She could only imagine what was in the back, unseen up to this point.

Lindsay pressed the doorbell, taking it for granted nobody ever snuck up on the Oster front door without being observed first by some elaborate security system.

It surprised her when Charles Oster himself opened the door and welcomed her. Perhaps she expected a butler or maid from having watched too many old movies. Regardless, she found herself inside the mansion, trying not to act like a kid entering the gates of Disney World for the first time.

"I'm sorry we couldn't do this over the phone or at my office, Lindsay," Charles said as he lead his guest deeper inside the house. "But I think you understand that I'm a little paranoid right now."

"I understand," she replied, refraining from asking the obvious question of why he should feel that way.

They entered a lush family room with huge windows overlooking another pond in the back and additional wooded paradise. The entire room looked like it was transplanted from the most expensive furniture store she'd ever been in. The couches, chairs and tables were natural, but elegant. The various paintings and wall coverings were perfect highlights.

"Have a seat," Charles said.

"You have a very nice house," Lindsay said, placing her notepad on top of her crossed legs.

"It's all Helen's handiwork. I have no creativity when it comes to design," he said, apparently referring to Mrs. Oster.

Lindsay allowed herself a split second to think about what Helen Oster thought of Caroline Hunter. An image of two competing beauty queens awkwardly smiling at each other on stage came to mind. Then she said, "Join the club. I could never do this."

"Can I get you anything?" Charles asked politely, making no effort to leave his chair.

"No, thanks. I won't keep you long."

"Actually, it's alright. We're alone," he said. "We have lots of time."

His grin was not as comforting for Lindsay as he probably supposed it to be. She opened her notepad and asked, "Can we begin?"

"Of course."

"Charles, why do you think Caroline Hunter's attorney was so emphatic about saying she was used?" Lindsay said.

Charles leaned back in his chair and looked out the immense windows, and then turned back to Lindsay. "Caroline had a unique influence over people. Her intelligence was unquestionable. Her knowledge of the financial markets was undeniable. All of that paled in comparison to her sensuality. Men who were otherwise highly qualified and professional turned into jello around her. I watched colleagues have tantrums about a financial matter privately, and then find themselves unable to adequately express a single objection in front of Caroline."

Lindsay nodded.

"So it should come as no surprise to you that certain men within the organization attempted to, uh, hook up with her," Charles added.

When he paused for Lindsay's acknowledgement, she asked, "Were you one of them?"

He chuckled. "The thought crossed my mind. But the line was too long."

"Who was first in line, or at least who was first to succeed?"

Without wavering, Charles said, "That would have been a former VP. He'll go nameless. He's not with the firm anymore and he's irrelevant to the current situation. Except for the manner in which he approached Caroline and how she handled it."

Lindsay jotted down a few key words and looked up at the CEO, who said, "This guy's mission was clear to everyone from the start. I guess he considered her some kind of prize and that we'd all respect him or something if he got her. Anyway, he was pretty open about his intentions and Caroline led him on, most certainly with no goal of ever making it a long-term relationship."

Charles smiled. "One thing I have to say about Caroline: she has a great sense of humor. Maybe a little bit of the actress in her. She knew damn well where the security cameras were in our building. She positively knew there were several sprinkled throughout the finance department for obvious reasons."

Lindsay wrote her notes and prepared for what she thought was coming.

"We never found out if it was the first time they ever had sex, but Caroline made sure this guy was in plain sight of the cameras on this occasion," Charles said. "They were in the office at about nine at night. Nobody else in sight. She takes him out in the middle of the room by a somewhat clean desk and they start kissing. His hands were everywhere, opening anything on her that was buttoned or zippered. Her blouse was hanging open and her skirt was around her ankles by the time she got his cock out."

Lindsay looked at her host, desperately hoping her ever-increasing pulse wasn't obvious to him. She wondered what purpose this all had; where he was going with it, since it was all so 'irrelevant'.

"Caroline took off her blouse and kicked the skirt aside, and then she sank down to take him in her mouth," Charles proceeded. "Not with his back to the camera, or her back to the camera. The perfect side view, Lindsay. She had it all figured out. And for nearly five minutes she gave him the best fucking blowjob I've even seen in my life."

Lindsay crossed her legs in the opposite direction, feeling the moisture in her panties building. Now, for sure, Charles had to know he was affecting her, damn it.

"When she stood up, his cock could have penetrated a wall. He pulled down her bra without even taking it off and sucked on her incredible tits for a few seconds. Then he pushed her down on the desk, shoving stuff in all directions. He yanked off her panties and pushed himself between her legs. The camera had the perfect view from above and slightly behind him. Caroline spread her legs like a pro and took that cock like it was nothing. The rest was pure security camera magic."

When he delayed for a few seconds, Lindsay found herself almost begging him to continue. He must have seen the look in her eyes.

"We saw his cock sliding in and out of her soaking wet pussy. There was no sound with the tape, but we saw Caroline plainly saying, 'Fuck me. Fuck me. Harder.' And he did. Her legs wrapped around his waist and her tits shook in all directions. The only question was whether he'd cum in her or not."

Lindsay was breathing through her mouth, unconscious of the fact she hadn't taken a note in several minutes.

"He lifted her ass off the desk, Lindsay. And just when it looked like he was ready, he pulled out and beat himself off until cum shot out of his cock like a hose. We saw strings of cum landing on her tits, her neck, her stomach...the desk. He must have cum a dozen times until she was covered in it."

This time when he stopped, Lindsay all but gave up hiding her stimulation. She took a deep breath, switched the position of her legs again, and sighed audibly. The look of surrender in her eyes must have been evident.

"I know, Lindsay. We felt the same way the first time we saw it. You should have seen him cleaning her up with his undershirt. It was priceless."

The attempt at levity had little effect on her. Her main concern was whether or not he noticed the rock hard nipples pushing against her sweater.

"Why are you telling me this, Charles?" she asked in the weakest voice she ever heard come out of her body.

"As background for the pertinent information I have," he said. "Don't you newspaper types all want the background info? Isn't a pattern of events more significant than a single event?"

"What pertinent information do you have for me, Charles?"

"Ah, yes. Why we are here," he said. He looked at Lindsay with the most unashamed look of the afternoon. His eyes scanned her from the smooth blonde hair on her head to the calves of her legs.

"Stand up, Lindsay."

The young woman's internal struggle over how far she was willing to go with this had finally come to a tipping point. Her brain all but hurt from the countless thoughts and endless decision making. She said, "Charles, I don't..."

"Lindsay, don't blow this opportunity. I have information you need to take this story to another level. People are tired of corporate fuck-ups ripping them off. They never tire of sex."

"But I don't have to..."

"But you do, Lindsay. You do if you want it all," Charles said, leaning slightly forward in his chair. "You do want it all don't you?"

"You make me sick," she replied.

"I make you horny. You were squirming like a teenager during that story. Your nipples grew harder every minute, Lindsay. I bet your panties are soaked," Charles said in a firm, self-assured voice. "Now stand up."

The words bordered on an order. Lindsay threw the notepad on the couch in defiance...and then stood up.

"Get undressed, please."

For one fleeting instant she considered leaving. In the next, Lindsay was pulling her sweater over her head. She flung it on the couch behind her as her ruffled blonde hair settled back over her shoulders. She made no attempt to pose for him. Yet, the fact she was stationary in the middle of his family room, alone, resulted in the same outcome.

Charles studied her keenly, taking in every inch of her body from the waist up. For the first time, Lindsay thought she detected a bulge in his crotch under the expensive pants. She had looked there out of habit and he couldn't have missed the stare. When their eyes met again, nothing was said.

Lindsay unzipped her skirt, letting it fall to the floor. She removed it and her shoes at the same time. Now it was a matter of whether or not he could, in fact, detect the wet panties he had correctly predicted. His eyes seemed to pierce through her and Lindsay struggled to figure out what to do with her hands.

After what seemed an eternity, he said, "The panties."

This wasn't what she wanted her hands to be doing, but she slowly pulled the panties off. Now she stood naked in front of Charles Oster, ostensibly for the purpose of gaining information from him for her story. Charles, of course, only saw this as a down payment.

"Turn around, Lindsay."

A lot of pretty women worked at Lilt Financial. Charles Oster knew them all. Few, if any, could compare to the one standing in front of him now. From Lindsay's delicate shoulders, to the curve of her spine, to her gently bowing ass and firm thighs...she matched up with the best of them. Even Caroline Hunter, Charles thought to himself.

He rose from his chair and walked the two steps it took to get close enough to Lindsay to touch her. His fingers started at the bottom of her ass and traveled up her body in an intensely methodical pace. Only when he reached Lindsay's shoulders did Charles reach around her.

He purposely traced the outline of her breasts without ever truly touching them. He teased her by finally running a single finger over both breasts, but avoided the nipples. Not until he thought she was ready did he allow his hand to touch the ultra-sensitive tips.

But when he did, he cupped the breasts firmly and tugged Lindsay back against his body, causing her to gasp.

"Do you feel it? Do you feel how hard you make me?"

Lindsay nodded.

"You'll get your information, Lindsay Callahan. But this type of information is expensive. The interesting thing is: you can afford it. Will you pay?"

If he expected an answer, she didn't give it. At least not verbally or with a gesture. Charles worked her nipples between his fingers, stopping only to knead her full breasts with his large hands.

"I bet Caroline likes having her tits played with. Don't you think?"

Another nod.

"I bet it makes her wet. She was wet in the security tape, Lindsay. You should have seen how that cock slid into."

With that, Charles' hand was between Lindsay's legs. She spread them without even thinking, a reaction that would have disgusted her if it hadn't been for his fingers searching out the opening to her cunt. He found it quickly and slid a solitary finger from her pussy to her clit, lingering there while Lindsay's body stiffened.

"Of course you are," he whispered in her ear. "You were wet half way through the story and you got wetter stripping for me. Now you're dripping, Lindsay. Just like Caroline was."

So, there it was. Lindsay was no better than Caroline Hunter. Perhaps she would learn of details that made Caroline a worse person. But at the moment, they were basically the same—sexy women who contrived a course for themselves, only to be derailed in the end by more manipulative men.

Charles rubbed Lindsay's clit harder. "Shall we negotiate?"

"Uh huh," Lindsay acknowledged feebly.

A finger entered her cunt and probed her until she felt his knuckles against her pussy. "The price is steep, Lindsay. Are you willing to make a deal?"

"Do you have anything worth giving me?"

Intended or not, Charles took the question two ways. He took hold of Lindsay's wrist and pulled her hand back to his crotch, where he laid it directly on top of his rigid cock. Lindsay's impulse was to grab the cock through his pants. Charles pushed forward to signal his approval.

"I have lots to give you."

"Then let's have it," Lindsay said.

"Good girl," Charles said. "Now lay down on the couch for me."

Lindsay's legs were unsteady as she moved back to the couch. Then she settled down onto the cushions and rolled onto her back. Charles had already removed his shoes. He unbuckled his belt, pulled down the zipper and lowered his pants. Lindsay watched intently as the thick erection under his boxers came into view.

Once he was naked from the waist down, Charles strode to the couch. He didn't believe it was possible to get any harder than he already was, but looking down on the beautiful young reporter--flowing blonde hair sprayed out on a pillow and large breasts filling her chest--did cause one last twitch in his cock as he settled between her legs.

Any thoughts of regret Lindsay had a moment ago were overshadowed now by her desire to feel Charles Oster's impressive cock in her cunt. She spread her legs and awaited his next move.

There were few preliminaries. Charles positioned his cock at the entrance to Lindsay's cunt and lowered his body for a better angle. He did manage to look into Lindsay's anxious face for an instant before driving forward. Charles' eyes remained locked on the young woman to capture her expression of astonishment as his substantial cock made its way inside her body. It was one of the little pleasures in life he enjoyed so much.

Lindsay tried to act as if this was a routine fuck. But the sheer magnitude of what had just happened to her pussy resulted in an involuntary intake of breath, followed by an exhaled sound she had never made before. It took three or four thrusts of his cock for Lindsay's body to adjust. When it did, she relaxed as much as she could and just enjoyed the ride.

Charles would never admit that Lindsay was a good partner. He'd probably never have to. But he had a tendency to rate fucks and each passing moment moved her higher and higher up the list. When she finally wrapped her legs around his waist and tightened her grip on his cock, she was in the top three.

He bent down and took a breast into his mouth, sucking and nibbling on the nipple until her cries of joy filled the room. A short repeat on the other breast had her hips driving wildly up towards his body.

"Is this what you wanted, Lindsay? Or should we just stick to the facts?"

Lindsay moaned, but didn't answer.

"Tell me. Tell me what you want?"

"Oh God, Charles. Don't...don't make me...," she tried to mutter between near-violent shoves of his cock inside her cunt.

"What, Lindsay? Tell me!"

"Goddddd, no!"

The couch rocked fiercely, threatening to knock against the end table behind Lindsay's head. The sound of Charles' balls smacking against her ass got louder and louder.

"Tell me!" he almost shouted.

"Fuck me, bastard! Fuck me! Fuck me!"

Lindsay grabbed the front of Charles' shirt and hung on for dear life as they both picked up the pace and intensity. Charles began to kiss the side of Lindsay's face before eventually allowing his mouth to cover hers. Pure lust alone caused her to open her mouth and accept his tongue, returning the favor with vigor.

Seconds later, while the kiss was its most passionate, Lindsay screamed out and her orgasm began. Her heels dug into Charles' ass. A button flew off his shirt as she clutched at it with both fists, but neither of them noticed nor cared.

"Oh God! Oh God!" she cried out repeatedly.

"That's it, baby. Cum harder! C'mon, Lindsay."

He held out as long as he could, but the pressure applied by her tight cunt on his cock took its toll. With a mammoth grunt and a powerful thrust, Charles drove his cock deep into her cunt and began to pour out shot after shot of warm cum.

Lindsay put her hands on top of his ass and pulled him closer. She wanted to feel every inch of his throbbing cock while Charles came. Lindsay flexed the muscles in her pussy the best she could to squeeze each drop out of him, and it prolonged the orgasm by a few seconds.

Finally, Charles collapsed onto the couch, his cock still inside her. Their legs were intertwined; their bodies at awkward angles to allow Charles to remain in Lindsay's cunt.

"Names and places, Charles. Dates and times. You promised," Lindsay said.

"I sent an e-mail to you when I saw you pulling up. All you need is right there," he replied, rolling her nipple between his fingers.

###

The drive back to the newspaper offices was a blur of images from the brief 'interview'. Lindsay couldn't deny the pleasure she experienced, but questioned her ethics and morality. She tried to convince herself that information was information and how it was obtained was secondary...kind of. Would she ever do it again? She couldn't answer that question.

She hurriedly got to her desk and opened her e-mail. Sure enough, there was Charles' message. Her hand shook as she double-clicked on it. When it opened, she froze in her chair.

Expecting a long message, or perhaps a list, she wasn't at all prepared for what she saw. On two lines were written:

BofD AC/DC

"What the fuck!?" Lindsay mumbled.

Her initial shock was quickly replaced with growing anger. She slammed her fist down on the desk.

"Damn you, Charles. Damn you! Damn you!"

She kept to herself all thoughts of how he had used her, fucked her, and promised her information...only to give her THIS.