Sarah's Part Time JobbyJust Plain Bob©
Sarah was a raving beauty and I had lusted after her from the very first day she came to work for me. Jet black hair that hung down to the middle of her back; 36 C cup breasts on a five foot five frame that probably was carrying about a hundred and twenty-five pounds and with an ass to die for. I would call her in the office and give her some meaningless, trivial task just so I could watch her ass as she walked out of the room.
Sarah only had one major flaw; she was married (women that nice usually are) and she had two kids, but that didn't stop me from trying to hustle her into bed. This was in the days before sexual harassment became common place, but it was still frowned upon. In fact, our company's Policy and Procedures Manual made reference to relationships between supervisors and subordinates, but I ignored it because she was that nice. Besides, I owned the company and had written the CP&P and I would revise it if I had to.
That said, I at least tried to be subtle in making my moves on Sarah. I took her to lunch a couple of times a week and she stopped at the bar every Thursday with everyone else from work and I always angled to get the seat next to her at the table. I danced with her as often as I could and every low-key pass I made at her she deftly deflected. She never once said, "Of course not, I'm a married woman" or "You shouldn't say things like that to me because you know I'm married," but she let me and several others know that we were barking up the wrong tree. But I didn't stop trying; she was just too damned nice.
A year went by with me trying one low-key approach after another and gaining absolutely no ground. All I did was establish, in her eyes at least, that I was some kind of kidder. She took to looking at my attempts as good-natured kidding and so she started kidding back. I started hearing things like, "Be careful what you wish for. You just might get it and then find out you can't handle it" and "I can't. I wouldn't want to be responsible for hurting you."
But I kept trying and I kept getting shot down.
I'm not sure when it started because I didn't pay all that close attention to Sarah except when I was trying to hustle her or watch her ass when she walked away from me, but she started to seem down at times and her attitude changed. She was no longer cheerful and upbeat. She quit stopping with us after work for drinks and some mornings she came to work looking like she had been crying all night. One morning she came to work looking like death warmed over so I asked her to come into the office, pointed at a chair and said:
"Sit down right there and tell me what the problem is."
"I don't know what you mean."
"Yes you do. For the last month now something has been dragging you down. You come to work in the morning and you look like you haven't slept for days and have been crying all night. So far it hasn't caused your job performance to slip so I'd like to see what we can do to keep things from getting to that point."
"I don't care. If you don't want to talk about it fine, but if things keep going the way they are sooner or later it will start to affect you here at work and at that point it will become my problem. I would just as soon that not happen so if we can head it off now I think we should do it."
She looked down at the floor and said almost in a whisper, "My husband lost his job."
"That's not the end of the world. All he has to do is find another one."
"He can't find one. It has been a month now and he hasn't found anything. I don't even think he is looking any more. I think he leaves the house in the morning and goes to a bar or something."
"Are you sure? Does he come home soused in the evening?"
"No, but I smell the alcohol on him."
"Maybe he stops to have one after a hard day of looking. Maybe he is meeting contacts, you know, doing the 'network' thing."
"But it is costing us money, money that we don't have to spare. It doesn't matter why he is in bars, what matters is that we can't afford it. I don't make enough to make the house payment, pay the utilities, buy groceries and all the rest of it. We are already behind on the house payment and if something doesn't happen soon we could lose the house."
Being the asshole that I am an idea took form in the back of my mind. Too soon to move on it just yet, but I could lay some groundwork. "House is pretty important to you?"
"We have put everything we have into that house. Raises, bonuses, all went into the house to make it perfect for us. The pool, the hot tub, everything. I spent my life living in apartments and I promised myself that my kids were going to live in a house. They were going to have a back yard to play in and have their own rooms and not be crammed into one bedroom with two sisters like I was. I can't lose that house; I just can't!"
"Well keep your chin up; I'm sure that your husband will come up with something soon."
After she left my office I made some calls and found out why Sarah's husband lost his job and why it wasn't likely that he would find anything that paid worth a damn. He was not laid off like he'd told Sarah - he had been fired. He had been drinking on the job, cheating on his expense accounts and costing his company several good customers when he'd shown up for meetings drunk if he bothered to show up at all. To top it all off he got caught fucking one of the secretaries on his desk in his office and not just any old secretary, but the bosses' niece. Sarah was probably right; he probably was leaving the house and going to a bar instead of job hunting.
I decided that it would be in my interest to verify what Sarah's husband was doing and I made a call to a friend who had a friend who was a private detective.
I waited a week before I called her back in my office. "How are things going?"
"Not good. I received a disconnect notice from the phone company yesterday. I need to bring them up to date by next week or they are going to shut off the phone. I can't pay them. I can live without a phone, but I can't live without electricity and that is where my next paycheck has to go."
"Look Sarah, this is awkward for me, but I like you and I want to help you if I can. Maybe I can throw some extra work your way, but if I do....oh never mind. I can't do it."
"Never mind Sarah, I should have just kept my thoughts to myself and not opened my mouth."
"What were you going to say?"
"I'm sorry Sarah, I just had a stupid idea on how to help you make some extra money, but it wouldn't work."
"How do you know it won't work? Tell me what it is."
"This is embarrassing; I never should have brought it up."
"But you did bring it up so tell me."
"Well, you know I'm single, but I go to a lot of business affairs and cocktail parties and for appearances sake I need to have a date with me. I used to go to those things alone until one day a guy asked me if I was gay. He said he wondered because he never saw me with a woman. I was flabbergasted when he asked me that. If it got around that people thought I was gay it would have hurt my reputation and that would have hurt business so I started taking dates to those affairs."
"What does that have to do with me being able to make extra money?"
"I haven't always been able to come up with a date when I needed one and I'm so paranoid about the gay rumor that I don't dare to go to those things alone anymore so I have been using girls from an escort service."
"What has that got to do wi...oh. Oh my."
"I know, bad idea and I'm sorry that I brought it up."
She looked at me quietly for several seconds and then asked, "Just what would I be expected to do as your escort?"
"No Sarah, it is a bad idea and I don't think we should talk about this any more."
"Depending on what I have to do it might not be all that bad an idea. Tell me what your escort has to do."
"Just act like my girlfriend and act like she is glad to be with me. Make small talk with the people there, hang on my arm and act like she would if she were at a party with her real boyfriend or husband."
"What does something like that pay?"
"The agency charges me sixty dollars an hour for a four hour minimum and my understanding is that the woman who is my escort gets half of that."
"A hundred and twenty dollars for just walking around at a party? That's thirty dollars an hour. I could do that. I'd have to tell Keith that I was working late for the overtime, but I could do that."
"You really think you could."
"Oh yes, I would do it in a heartbeat. One hundred and twenty dollars for four hours work? Oh my God. That would help. That would really help. How often do you go to those kinds of affairs?"
"I average two a week."
"Oh my. What kind of time frame are we talking?"
"Usually six to ten or eleven."
"I can do that, I really can. You are serious? You would use me for something like that?"
Use you Sarah? I'm certainly hoping to I was thinking as I said, "Yes. If you are willing I'd much rather see you get the money than some stranger."
"When will your next event take place?"
I saw her face fall and I asked her what was the matter.
"I have to pay the lights today so I'll be broke when Monday gets here and I have to have the phone paid by then or it will be shut off."
"No problem Sarah. I'll advance you the money for Tuesday's date."
I took out my checkbook and wrote her out a check and handed it to her. She looked at it and gasped. "This is for three hundred."
"I know. I'm giving you the full sixty that I would have given the escort agency and Tuesday's event will last at least five hours and that comes to three hundred."
"Oh my God Rob, I don't know how I will ever be able to thank you."
But I do Sarah, I was thinking, I know very well how I hope you will eventually thank me.
Monday I told Sarah that unless she wanted me to pick her up at her house on Tuesday she should bring a cocktail dress and a pair of heels to work with her.
"Oh I will. No way you could pick me up at the house. Keith would never understand what I'm doing. He'd have a fit."
Tuesday at five-thirty Sarah walked into my office and I went instantly hard. She was wearing a black cocktail dress that stopped six inches above the knee, a pair of black pumps with four-inch heels and a single strand of pearls.
"Will this do?" she asked.
"Oh boy, will it ever! I'll be spending the night beating back the guys with a stick. One thing however, you need to take off your rings."
"Do I have to? I don't know that I'd feel right doing that."
"I'm sorry Sarah, but just like I can't have people thinking I'm gay I can't have them thinking I run around with married women. It is all about image Sarah, all about image. I have to appear to be squeaky clean and one hundred percent ethical and a married woman on my arm just wouldn't do."
She wasn't happy about it, but she took them off and put them in her purse. The night went well and I behaved myself, acted the perfect gentleman and then took Sarah back to the office so she could change clothes before going home.
The next morning Sarah thanked me for helping her keep the electricity and phone turned on and then she asked me when my next event was.
"I've got an awards ceremony this Friday, but I'll probably try to get a date for that one or use the escort service."
"Why? Didn't I do okay last night?"
"You were perfect last night Sarah, but Friday is a different group than last night's. Different group, different image to project. Last night I just needed protective coloring, but to Friday's group I need to appear to be a stud. I need someone I can appear to be affectionate with, someone who looks and acts like she has the hots for me. I don't think you could do that Sarah."
"I could. I know I could."
"Oh come on Sarah, you got upset when I asked you to take off your wedding rings. How are you going to act at the party when I get you out on the dance floor, plaster myself against you, put my hands on your butt and do other things like that?"
"I can do it. We will just be play acting. It isn't like we are going to leave and go to a motel room or anything like that."
"I don't know Sarah. I just can't believe you can do what I need done. It isn't enough that you just let me do what I will be doing. I'm going to need a positive response to what I do. I need my date to be a little aggressive."
"I can do it Rob."
I looked at her in silence for a couple of moments and then said, "Okay, but don't let me down Sarah. Image is important to me. I'll be acting like a man lusting after you - a man in heat - and my hands are going to be all over you. I'll be making lewd suggestions and there will be lots of sexual innuendoes and you are not only going to have to smilingly accept them, but actually respond in kind. Take some time to think on it Sarah and let me know in the morning. But be clear on this Sarah; I will be making it obvious to everyone there that I fully intend to make love to you as soon as we leave the party and you are going to have to behave as if you are eagerly looking forward to it. I'll need an answer as soon as you get here in the morning because if you decide you can't do it I'll need time to line up a date."
I wasn't worried because I knew she would do it. The hundred and twenty she had gotten the previous night for nothing much more than hanging on my arm for four hours while sipping cocktails would see to it. Sure enough, the next morning Sarah came into my office and asked me what she should wear to Friday's party.
Friday's dress was a shimmering backless red thing that came down to mid thigh and she had accessorized it with a choker of the same material, a red clutch and red high heels. She was absolutely stunning and every eye in the place was on her when we made our entrance.
I found us a table, sat Sarah down and went to get us drinks. I made Sarah's a double. I wasn't expecting to get anywhere that night, but I wanted to get her as loose as I could. Over the next hour we drank and socialized with people and I made sure that all of Sarah's drinks were doubles. When the band started playing I pulled Sarah out onto the dance floor and plastered myself to her. She started to pull back from me and I said:
"Hey! I told you what to expect and you said you could play the game so do it."
There was a second's hesitation and then she moved back to me. I dropped my hands to her ass, pushed my hard on into her leg and then swayed to the music. I could feel her tremble and I knew she was fighting an internal battle against staying pressed against me and pulling away. The money won and she stayed against me. When the music was over I led her back to our table and then got us another drink. I let her take a pull on it and then said:
"Don't flinch. I'm going to run my hand up your leg and under your dress."
"There are no table cloths to block it; people will see you doing it."
"That's the idea. I want them to see it. I want everyone in this room to know that you are going to fuck my eyes out as soon as we leave."
"I will do no such thing" she hissed at me.
"You and I know that, but I don't want them to know it."
I ran my hand up under her dress and stopped just inches away from her crotch. "Spread your legs like you are inviting my fingers and look like you want to purr like a kitten."
She gave me a nervous smile and I started rubbing her leg where my hand was resting. "Close your eyes and open your mouth just a touch. Make everyone think I'm getting you off."
She did as I asked. As I massaged her upper leg I allowed one finger to briefly touch her panties and while I couldn't be certain I thought they felt damp.
"Fake an orgasm Sarah; pretend I just made you cum."
She grabbed the edge of the table with both hands, made a face and gave a little, barely audible "oooh." "Very good Sarah, very good. Let's dance some more."
It was the same as the last dance only that time she didn't try to fight it. She molded herself to me and buried her head in my neck as I played with her ass. She didn't flinch when I cupped her right breast or kissed her neck and she only hesitated a fraction when I told her to run her left hand down my body and rub the hard lump in my trousers. The song ended and we went back to the table.
I spent the next two hours playing little mind games and feeling Sarah up on the dance floor and having her stroke my hard on through my pants. I would have liked to make things last a little longer, but she was married and did have to get home. The 'working late' excuse was good for four, maybe five hours, but no way could she use that as an excuse for coming home at two or three in the morning.
"Last dance Sarah," I said as I led her back out onto the dance floor, "We'll do this one and then get you out of here so you can go home."
It was a repeat of the previous ones with my hands all over her and her rubbing my hard on. Towards the end of the song I said:
"One more thing for you to do Sarah. Take my head in your hands and kiss me. Make it look steamy as hell and when you break it I want you to look like a woman who can't wait to get out of here and get laid."
I don't know whether all of my touching had gotten her hot or the drinks had loosened her up but the kiss she gave me went beyond steamy - way beyond! She had every inch of her tongue that she could get into my mouth wiggling, pushing and wrestling with mine and I did my absolute to give back. When she broke the kiss she looked into my eyes and said:
"Let me grab my purse. We need to get out of here and find us a bed - a very sturdy bed - and we need to do it quick."
That surprised the hell out of me. I thought I was at least a couple of weeks away from getting her in my bed and then I noticed Charley Smithers and his wife less than a foot away. He smiled and gave me a 'thumbs up' and I smiled back at him and followed Sarah off the dance floor and back to our table. She picked up her purse and said:
"Did the man next to us hear me?"
"Yes he did Sarah, he did indeed."
I drove her back to the office and she changed clothes and then I walked her to her car. I handed her an envelope stuffed with bills and she opened it and I saw her eyes widen before her expression went neutral and she dropped the envelope in her purse. It was only three hundred, but three hundred looks huge when it is all in tens and twenties. I could have shown a little class and given her three one hundred dollar bills, but I wanted her to think of the money and the bigger the pile you look at the more you think about it.
The only downside to my plan so far was that I was going home with the worst case of blue balls I'd had since I was a teenager.
I took the next step Monday morning. Around ten I called Sarah into my office.
"Are you available for about three hours tomorrow night?"
"I can be. What should I wear?"
"It is a business dinner so what you wear to work tomorrow should be fine. This one won't be as 'touchy-feely' as Friday's, but you will still need to show that you are hot for me. Two of the guys who were at Friday's dinner will be there so you need to make it look like we have a good thing going. How is your husband doing in his job hunting?"
"He hasn't found anything yet."
"What about unemployment insurance? He getting enough to at least make the house payment?"
"He hasn't gotten any yet. When I ask him about it he says there is a problem with the paperwork and he is trying to straighten it out. We are two months behind on the house now and I guess I'll have to resign myself to the fact that we are going to lose it."