Maggie Climbs the Corporate Ladder

His car was a late model foreign sedan; as she walked toward him, she realized it was a Benz, but not a model she was familiar with. It was big. She had a reasonably new Japanese four-door; it wasn't a junker, but it wasn't a Benz either.

He looked really good wearing a starched cotton shirt, blue, this time, another interesting tie and a blue business suit with a hint of gray. It was not the typical, Hart-whatever, but obviously another custom number. He certainly looked more like a Vice President than the Vice President ever did. The brief case he removed from the back seat was leather, subtle and classic.

He greeted her warmly. She gave him an overview of the planned schedule and moved to the driver's side as he opened the passenger door. She was wearing her, 'other' really nice business suit. She looked damned good, she thought to herself; hot, but classy, business hot, not trashy hot. She had dabbed just a hint of one of her favorite perfumes on strategic places.

"Opium." He commented.

"Pardon me?" She responded.

"Opium. You're wearing Opium." He replied. "I noticed, because it's one of my favorites. I don't claim to be a perfume expert; my mom is also blond and is more a Channel #5 type, but I guess that's more of a generational thing; I seldom note women not of my mother's generation wearing it anymore."

Maggie laughed. "My mother has always worn Channel #5 and nothing else. I could never see wearing the same perfume my mom wears, even though I always liked it."

With most of the other men she worked with, a comment about her perfume would have been clearly flirtatious and a prelude to a pass. Steve's comment had been so innocent and matter of fact that she took no offense; she thought to herself that she was actually pleased that he noted the small detail.

The day went very well for her, for the most part. Steve never tried to take over a particular sales call. His comments in the car following an appointment were helpful and reassuring, not critical.

During one crucial presentation, she started to sense that she was losing it. Steve's predecessor would have taking the sales presentation away from her, closed the sale himself to demonstrate his superior skills, embarrassed her in front of the customer and then berated her in the car afterwards.

Steve immediately had sensed she was starting to struggle. He calmly asked her a couple of questions to get her back on track. While she was rewinding, he filled the potential dead space with the customer. Out of the corner of his eye, sensing that she was on track, he handed it back to her. She closed the sale successfully.

Returning to the car, she apologized for almost blowing the sale.

"Maggie, don't apologize, you 'done good' in there. It's a very difficult concept to get across to our customers. I've seen that presentation completely mangled; I am as familiar with this product as if I'd I invented it." He paused a moment, as if reflecting on something.

"Anyway, I know this product inside and out, but I've mangled the sales pitch on more than one occasion. You're not on trial. Well, correction, I guess we're all on trial every day in this crazy industry." Steve told her.

He continued. "Look, Maggie, you've got good instincts, you showed that all day. You understand the business and analyze the situation well. The customers like you They respect you. They listen to you. Not every presentation goes by the script; I'm glad I was there to help you get your motor running smoothly again. That is really what my job is all about."

"Thank you." She responded, amazed and gratified.

"You're more than welcome." He replied. "As I remember, we have one more call; tell me a little about it."

This was going to be the toughest one; she had saved it for last, not to avoid it, but because it fit with the customer's schedule. She told Steve that she felt that this customer knew that their product was the best choice, but was stalling. She wasn't sure if he was just indecisive or was playing her off against the competitor. She told Steve, somewhat nervously that she was going to play hard ball.

"Maggie, I'll play either role that you need me to, but I sense that you've decided to play bad cop?" Steve told her. She nodded.

"Okay, then I'll be the sniveling little sales trainer, somewhat intimidated by this, 'ball busting', brash, young sales woman." He told her. "Show your strengths. When I meekly seem to disagree with your approach in front of the customer, shut me off; interrupt me; don't be terribly respectful of me. I'm going to be critical of you in there, but it will be total bull shit. Feel free to show how offended you are at my meddling. 'Think you can pull it off?"

She nodded again, confidently, but she was more than a little unsure. She was absolutely not sure how Steve would pull of, weak, sniveling and intimidated. This man exuded strength and confidence. He was a guy in control and used to handling tough situations. He was a decorated combat veteran, for God's sake; she couldn't imagine this man showing fear. Her mind wandered as she wondered if Steve was this, 'take charge' in bed. She adored that in a man. There you go again, thinking about fucking your boss. Stop it. She got back on mental track.

"One last thought, Maggie. You are a striking, stunning, young business woman. You are exceptionally bright and know this product inside and out. Stand tall, shoulders back, be confident. Eat this bastard for lunch." Steve said.

Again, the comment about her being striking and stunning might have seemed like the prelude to a pass, but she realized that, with this man, it was not. He was telling her to bring her full game to the table, to include her feminine assets.

It went better than she ever could ever have expected. From the moment she sat in the chair across from the customer, crossing her legs and showing just a little more thigh than she normally would, she owned it.

She got the customer to agree that their product was the best one---the only one---that would fill his employer's requirements. She told him she felt as if she was being strung along and asked him why he was refusing to make a decision, hinting that she sensed he was playing her off against the competitor. She never got angry or emotional, just very firm.

She told him it was time to decide, today. She then told him that she had, frankly, wasted too much time on this product with him and that after today, the deal, a very lucrative one for the customer, was off the table.

The customer looked to Steve, obviously taken aback by Maggie's actions but also obviously terrified that she would withdraw the deal, the only deal his company could profit from---and he would likely be fired for leaving his company high and dry.

As Maggie glared over at Steve, she almost didn't recognize him. He had somehow gotten smaller; his usually confident demeanor had been replaced by an unsure air of timidity. He looked rumpled—he never looked rumpled. How the hell does he do that? She thought to herself.

"Maggie, are you sure you want to, ah, go in this direction? I think you're being, ah, I mean, your being a little hard on Bob here. We've always had a great relationship with his company." Steve said, his voice even cracking a little as a bead of sweat covered his upper lip.

Maggie cut him off as he started to continue. "Thanks for that helpful input, Steve, I really appreciate your insights." She said derisively. "But, as you would be wise to remember, you're a sales trainer; this is my sales quota and my pocketbook we are dealing with and this is my decision."

She was openly contemptuous of Steve, a fact not missed by the customer. Steve looked over at the customer, painfully, wringing and then shrugging his hands, somehow, now, small shouldered; he was clearly indicating that she was right and that he, Steve, was not the decision maker.

Maggie modified her style with Bob. "Bob, I don't mean to be rude or unkind and I don't want to get in a pissing contest with you. You and I know this is right for you. We're both just doing our job; yours is to get the best deal possible for your employer. Mine is to sell my companies products with a, win-win' result. You know this is a win for you." And she stopped, letting the dead air fill the small office.

After what seemed like hours, but was not more than twenty seconds, Bob responded.

"You're right, Maggie, this is the best deal for us. And yes, I was shopping the competitor, but bluntly, they can't meet the specs---and they lied to me about it. No offense taken; you are just doing your job---and pretty damned effectively, I would say."

And with that, Bob signed the contract in front of him with a flourish, a contract that would quickly double, possibly even triple Maggie's income.

Turning to Steve, Bob went on. "You've got a pretty damned good sales rep here, Steve. If you're not careful, you'll be working for her someday in the not too distant future."

To which Steve, wordlessly and meekly nodded. Everyone shook hands and Steve and Maggie exited the customer's place of business.

"That was really hot!" Maggie exclaimed. With no thought of anything other than their recent success, she threw her arms around her boss, giving him a peck on the cheek.

As soon as she did it, she worried for a second about how he might respond. Would he take it the wrong way? Would he think she was making a move on him? Deep in her inner recesses, she'd damned well like to make a move on him, but that wasn't her intent at this point. Would he push her away, stiffly, uncomfortable with her closeness?

Thankfully, he returned her hug, very lightly brushing her hair with his lips. It was not romantic and it was not inappropriate, it was a friendly, tender gesture. He just hugged her back, sharing in her delight at their success.

Even for an instant, Maggie thought, it felt really good; it felt right, somehow when they had their arms around each other. There you go again, Maggie, get back in focus.

He held her a split second longer than she had expected. It was neither lascivious nor improper, nor remotely awkward or unpleasant. She could not, even in that brief embrace, fail to notice the hard muscularity of his body. This guy had to work out, she thought.

There was no groin contact, or certainly not enough for Maggie to detect if that part of his strong body was also hard. She wondered just for a moment if he was as well equipped down there as he seemed to be in every other way. She brushed the thought away. Stop thinking about fucking your boss, she told herself. It just wasn't like her to let her mind wander like that. Who is this fucking guy? Well, first, he's your boss, second he's a decade older than you and third, he's very married.

They broke the embrace, and got in her car to end the day. They laughed about Bob's reactions to the whole situation.

Maggie said. "How the hell did you pull off that whole, Superman, Clark Kent, thing? I've never seen anything like that before."

She was then worried that comparing him to Superman, might have been too forward, would appear as if she was trying to stroke his ego. She couldn't imagine that this man needed his ego stroked, but she might enjoy stroking some other parts of his anatomy. Get your mind out of the gutter girl, she thought.

"I had some martial arts training when I was younger. It's a classic technique, showing weakness to draw an adversary into a foolish move. It's served me well, over the years." Steve told her.

"You studied, what, Karate?" She inquired.

"A more obscure form than what is generally taught down at your local strip mall. My dad had a man who worked for him, really more of a friend, who was Japanese. I believe my dad helped get him out after the war and in classic oriental tradition, he became my dad's loyal, 'servant' for life. He was hardly a servant. The two were very close. He wept at my father's funeral, the first time I ever saw him break with the stoic Asian tradition. He must be in his eighties now; he still lives in a small house on my parent's---my mom's---farm, with his wife, who is almost as old. I love him dearly." Steve softly informed her.

Steve went on. "It turns out he had been some sort of priest, or missionary, kind of like that stupid program Keith what's his name used to be in. He was a seventh or eighth degree black belt. He started teaching me when I was six; I got pretty good at it, but never got far up into the, 'mystical' levels. It's been a useful skill."

She swtiched gears. "Maggie, this was fun. You've got this stuff pretty well figured out, and I'd love to work with you more often." He got more serious.

"Unfortunately, I've got nine other reps to work with and evaluate. It's no secret that not all of them were cut out for this job. I've also got to reorganize the senior territories and cut back on some of those folks---and they will not be happy about it. In any event, I'm going to restructure territories. In your case, I'd like to relieve you of some of the junk and give you some decent customers that you can sink your teeth into. Over the next two or three days, give me a list of those you want to keep and those you want to lose; I'll seriously consider your input in my decision. I want to work with you again, but give me a few weeks to travel with the others. How's that sound?" Steve said.

She couldn't believe it. Thing were happening very quickly. She was thrilled. "Sounds fantastic!" She answered. She hoped she had not come across as too excited.

As they drove back to his car, she realized that she had allowed her skirt to slide up a bit immodestly. It was a stick shift. She usually drove alone, and commonly hiked her skirt up in order to comfortably work the clutch. Was he checking out her legs? If he was, he was getting a pretty nice thigh shot. As she stole a glance down, she realized that he could probably just see the top of her hose, her thigh highs---she hated panty hose. She realized that he couldn't possibly see her little cunt---but it was just a few inches up from the hem of her skirt. He was checking out her legs, she was sure of it, but not very obviously. Well, as much skin as she was showing, any normal man would.

She knew she had great thighs; they were tight and firm. Her skin was baby soft, a tribute to great genes on her mom's side of the family. Her pussy was pretty amazing too, and she noticed, not unpleasantly, moist. Stop that, she thought. You're getting into evil thoughts again.

The awkward moment as they exited her car back at her apartment arrived. Do I invite him up? No, that would be totally inappropriate, although she remembered from her sales training that sales managers were supposed to inspect home offices; it was something to do with tax law. Do I extend my hand, or does he? What's the protocol here?

He solved the problem by telling her that he had to go meet one of the senior guys to have dinner with a customer. With no awkwardness, he hugged her, taking the initiative, this time. It was a quick, 'business' hug, but once again, she marveled at the strength under those expensive business clothes. This time, she was sure she felt a definite firmness in his groin area. He was hard, or at least somewhat so. She had gotten her boss's dick hard; she'd given him a boner. She liked that idea.

He gracefully stepped into the driver's seat of the Mercedes, one with a number on the rear fender that seemed pretty high; they said good bye, and he was gone.

She walked up to her empty apartment, threw her work shit on the dining room table and stripped. She hated clothes, particularly business suits. Naked, she went to the kitchen and opened a decent bottle of wine, one of the few luxuries she allowed herself. Did he drink? Did he like wine? She wanted to know so much more about him.

What she had learned already caused her hand to drop between her legs to her exquisite, tightly trimmed, blond pussy. She started the motion that was so familiar to her; as her pussy began to pass just moist, she began to fantasize about fucking this man she had just spent the day with. She could not normally bring herself to orgasm without electronic assistance. This time was different. As she closed her eyes and pictured Steve's strong, tall, tanned body over her, she came in seconds. He was married. He was her boss. This was wrong. She needed to stop thinking about him. She couldn't, awakening once in the night to again enjoy the feeling her fingers could provide.

As she was getting dressed for work a couple of hours later, it occurred to her that masturbating while thinking about Steve fucking her was as close as she would ever get to the real thing. He was her boss. He was older, well not that old. He was married, married, married! Maggie did not, never had, never intended to, go to bed with someone else's husband. She was not a slut and only a slut would fuck around with a married man.

Over the next few weeks, she saw him when she was in the office---made a point of stopping by his office, even if just for a second. If his door was closed and he was meeting with others, she was disappointed. They didn't work together over those weeks. They talked on the phone a couple times, but it was work stuff. He was busy. 'Resignations' were announced. A couple of the senior guys, much to her surprise, 'left to pursue other opportunities'.

He came out to the customer service area to speak to her on one of her office visits.

"Maggie, have you got a minute? Stop by my office, when you get done here." He said.

His visage was grim as she entered his office. "This has been a brutal few weeks, but the bleeding is over." He told her.

He briefed her on who had left or was leaving and who was not. He slid an account list over to her.

"This is your new account list. Get with the former reps and work out an introduction schedule. The ones leaving will cooperate---if they don't, I need to know, it directly impacts their severance and benefits---any questions?" He looked at her for a response.

Maggie replied. "This looks great, I'll get on it."

Steve replied. "On a lighter note, hopefully we can work together soon, particularly in the new accounts that you're getting. I've missed you. Also, the big sales meeting is coming up. As usual it's at a four star resort, but this year HQ outdid themselves, getting an amazing deal on a property that had been facing bankruptcy due to the S&L scandal. This is way above the usual. I think it will be a great meeting. I'll get all of you together who have not been to one before to give you the, 'ground rules.' Do you have any questions?"

She sensed that he was busy and didn't have time for further chat. They shook hands and she left.

He said he had missed me. Missed me as a competent young sales rep? Missed me in a more personal way? I missed him too, more than he could possibly know, she thought as she drove home.

They did not travel together before the sales meeting. She was disappointed that he wasn't on her flight, but following a tragic accident years before in which an entire office of another company was wiped out, it was customary to limit the number of people from one office on a given flight. She did run into some people she had met in sales training and enjoyed the flight as she caught up with their successes and failures.

She arrived at the resort. It was, in fact palatial and way, way above the norm in luxury. She checked in and went to a welcoming reception. She still didn't see Steve. Someone told her that all of the managers were in a meeting. Shit. There was a schedule and an info packet; each office was to meet at 5:00 P.M. in their own small meeting room. She saw Steve for the first time, greeting the sales reps under his charge as they came to the meeting room.