The Company: Marlo Ch. 01

Mr. Phillips half-heartedly flipped through the last three papers and finally closed the folder. Tossing it on her desk, he looked up at Marlo Thompson through gold-rimmed glasses. Folded hands resting on her desk, Armani suit settled in her chair, Italian leather shoes sweeping across her floor he scanned her from head to toe. He admired her look and she was obviously a very fit woman underneath her clothing. By the way she sat in her chair, this woman was quite proud and sophisticated. By the way she dressed she had expensive taste, but according to her file she was single and lived alone. Her boss praised her work and often shuffled the more important projects to her division. This woman was obviously looking to get ahead in the company. "Ms. Thompson, where do you see yourself a year from now?"

In your chair, with my name on the door, watching you polish my boots, asshole. How dare you walk in my office without telling me first? "Reporting directly to you, sir. Organizing your office as you see fit."

She had the right kind of answer and Mr. Phillips had noticed. "That's just the kind of attitude I like around here. If you're willing to do what it takes to get ahead, Ms. Thompson, you'll get very far in this branch."

Marlo had already gotten very far in a very short time. With just under two years at the office under her belt, she now managed a staff of twenty workers on various projects. It was her job to make sure everything handed to her got done properly and on time, even if that meant completing the projects herself. She had done and sacrificed a lot to get where she was, and she had never even given a small consideration to stopping anytime soon. "Thank you, sir. That's exactly what I intend to do."

"Excellent," Mr. Phillips told her, standing up from her chair. He walked around her desk to her side then leaned on its edge. "That's very good to hear, Ms. Thompson. I plan to see very soon if you have what it takes to advance to a higher position in my company."

"I look forward to it, sir." She noticed his receding hairline, flabby chin, and potbelly, none of which stopped him from living in a house with his own housekeeper, sauna, and indoor swimming pool. She hated that.

His business with her almost complete, Mr. Phillips began to leave. It was already a late day for him and if he didn't leave the building soon he risked missing out on a pleasantly warm afternoon. "Excellent," he repeated. "You have a project due on Mr. Turner's desk tomorrow. I'm anxious to see how that turns out. I'll also see if I can do anything about your air conditioning," he lied. He would remember, though, to schedule a one-on-one appointment with her to review her position in his large staff.

As soon as he left, Marlo picked up her phone and dialed. She checked her watch while it rang. It was ten after two. After a few more rings Mark picked up the phone. "Good afternoon, and thank you for calling—"

"Mr. Allen, it's Ms. Thompson. Did you finish the Hemmings report?"

"Almost, Marlo," he happily notified his boss. "I should have it to you by a quarter 'til."

"That's Ms. Thompson to you, Mr. Allen, and forty-five after isn't good enough. You've got fifteen minutes. And make sure you bring my keys with you."

"Fifteen minutes?" he asked. "I'm just proof—" She hung up the phone and looked at her watch. It was now twelve after. She gauged that she had just enough time to grab another drink from the cooler and use the ladies room before Mark was now due. If everything ran smoothly and his work was satisfactory she would have a whole hour to proofread his work before turning it in to Mr. Turner almost a day early. She re-filed the folder Mr. Phillips had inspected and walked out the door, making sure to lock it behind her.

Fourteen minutes later Mark Allen walked into her office, flustered with a mixture of anger and fear. He nearly dropped the folder as he scurried to close the door behind him. Placing the folder on her desk, he stood ready and awaited his director's verdict.

Instinctively, Marlo flipped through all the pages to make sure the necessary ones were filled out and where they needed to be. Pencil in hand she marked the ten most important pages; she would remember to inspect them with the greatest scrutiny before handing the package in. She closed the folder and set it aside. "That's good, Mr. Allen. That will be all."

"Thank you." Mark began to walk out but stopped himself. "Ms. Thompson, I was wondering." He was having an unusually difficult time looking this woman in the eye. "I was just wondering… If you aren't doing anything later--"

"I'm busy all day," she interrupted him for the second time, "and all night as well. That said I also don't date anyone who works under me."

"Of course. I'm sorry I—"

"I should also tell you that you did a good job for me today, Mr. Allen. I'll be calling on you to handle more work for me in the future."

"Of course. Thank you." Dejected, Mark left the office and closed the door behind him. It wasn't until he reached his desk that he realized he didn't know whether she was talking about the report or the sex.

Mark Allen really wasn't smart.

An hour and ten minutes later Marlo knocked on Chris Turner's office door. After a call from inside she walked in with the Hemmings project in hand.

"Good to see you, Ms. Thompson," Chris said with a smile. "Close the door behind you."

She obliged and walked over to his desk. Carefully, she removed the manila folder from its envelope and declared the project finished early by her personally.

Mr. Turner took the folder from her hand and flung it open. Quickly, he glanced over each page, much as Marlo had, noting that she'd already pencil-marked the important pages. Impressed by her work yet again, he neatly filed the folder away in a tableside drawer. He walked to the door, and with a quiet click, prevented any barging supervisors, curious subordinates, or questioning clients from interrupting. "I heard Mr. Phillips visited your office today." News traveled fast.

"Yes he did, Mr. Turner."

"What did you two talk about?"

"He asked me about a flaw one of his secretaries found in my file."

"Come now. Do you really think so little of me to believe that he'd do all that legwork for little, old you?"

She paced a few steps then answered, "He also reviewed a few of my past reports and made a few comments about my work."

Her boss cleared his throat with a loud cough and chose his next words carefully. "Ms. Thompson, you've been working very hard over the last few months," he began, "and I've worked equally hard to make sure important people know it."

"I appreciate that, sir," she said, not budging, though she noticed him inching very close to her from behind.

"I want to see you advance just as much as anyone else," he lied. Mr. Turner softly placed one hand on her hip. "But you have to be willing to continue showing result on the same level I've seen from you in the past. It would seem Mr. Phillips has taken a special interest in your work and my reports will become very crucial over the next few months." He moved his hand to her ass and groped her roughly. "You understand me, don't you?"

She turned to look at him. He was an inch taller than her, scrawny except for a slightly protruding belly, and ten years her senior. The man had dark brown hair with some gray areas. His moustache was thick and bushy, and his complexion was flawed. At that moment she could smell the fast food on his breath. She guessed he'd had a Big Mac and fries for lunch that day. "I understand completely, sir," she answered with a fake smile and kneeled in front of him. It wasn't the first time.

Slowly, she unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants. With a pull they came down to reveal his white briefs outlining the erection underneath. She looked up in his eyes and gave him another grin as she pulled them down allowing his dick to spring proudly out.

He was almost at his full six inches when she began jacking him off. With her left hand she pumped his shaft, with her right she reached down under her panties and started rubbing her own clit decisively.

Marlo's boss looked down at her and took in the view. Her eyes were closed in concentration and he watched her head roll back as she bit her bottom lip. Soon enough this tease would be good and wet so she could take his monster without too much effort, he thought. He watched the head of his prick begin to turn a darker purple as he became even more involved, closed his eyes, and tilted his own head back with a wince.

She changed her grip and began stroking him with an added flick of the wrist. The new twist was and added pleasure for him and he began bucking his hips against his employee's strokes. He didn't want to blow his load before he took advantage of her visit and fucked her, though her able caresses were tempting. Spraying his load all over her face and shirt would have its own benefits, he argued with himself, and he could already feel himself getting close. Earlier during lunch he had sprayed his load all over his secretary's face, however, and he fancied the feel of some good pussy wrapped around his cock. "Take your clothes off."

Marlo got on her feet and ran her fingertips up her manager's shirt. Never taking her eyes off his, she removed the bottom half of her clothing. She stood on show for him, her legs and shaven sex exposed to view. With a seductive look in her eye she turned and bent down over his desk.

Chris pressed himself into her until, in that first heave, he was fully in her. He felt her tighten her pussy's grip around his cock and gasped. Despite the strength of her hold, she had definitely gotten herself wet enough to allow him to slide in and out with ease. It felt good to fuck a woman who knew what she was doing.

With a grunt he looked down and watched as his dick pulled out of, then re-entered her pussy again and again. It was wonderful watching her pussy lips suck in his glistening shaft, as he pushed himself into her greedy cavity. He ran his hand over the hump of her ass and felt her muscles contract. "Yeah, you like that, don't you?"

She let out a sigh and looked up at the clock. Seven minutes had already passed since she walked into his office with folder in hand, so she began bucking her hips against his. She continued to vigorously clutch and release his dick with her pussy muscles to make the fuck even better for him.

"Tell me you like it, bitch."

Marlo twisted her hips sending a small bite of pain to the rock hard base of his prick. Just because he was her boss, didn't mean he could get away with calling her a bitch. No matter the situation, she was always in control and it would behoove Mr. Turner to remember that in the near future. "Fuck me harder," she told him.

After the twinge soon dissipated, he was happy to honor her request and sped up the rhythm of his thrusts. He gave her everything he had, turning red in the face as he attempted to hammer the deepest recesses of her insides.

"Aaah, fuck yeah!" she screamed back at him. "Fuck that pussy, asshole!" Guys like him always loved a woman who talked dirty. They were like a broken record.

"Yeah, that's right. Feel this big, massive cock in your hot, little pussy."

"Fuck me with that cock, motherfucker. Then cum all over my ass."

"Yeah, I'm gonna fuck you so hard, then I'm gonna cum on that nice ass of yours. You want me to fuck that pretty ass of yours?" He gave her ass a loud slap with his right hand and ogled the red handprint he left behind.

She flinched but didn't answer. Instead she clamped her muscles down as hard as she could on his dick. It was more than he could handle and he almost came insider her. Just as he was about to unload, she let go and pulled away so Chris' dick came all over her pussy lips, ass crack, and cheeks. "Ah yeah," he sighed as he came more than he had all day.

When he was finished, Chris walked back around his desk and pulled a box of tissues from his drawer. First, he cleaned his worker's juices from his dick then passed the box for her to clean herself off. He was feeling grateful that she brought the paperwork in early and gave him a great fuck, so Chris pulled out a few tissues for her.

She cleaned herself off and put her clothes back on. She used his decorative wall mirror to check her hair and face. She read the clock's reflection and noticed that she still had two minutes before four o'clock.

"I have another client coming up. You'd be perfect to handle his case." The bitch deserved the favor, he felt.

"Good," she said, combing her hands through her hair. She wiped a spot of sweat from her chin and added, "I'll send Mark Allen up here to get the papers from you first thing tomorrow morning."

"Make it tomorrow afternoon," Chris told her. "I'm taking my wife and kid to a baseball game tomorrow."

She straightened her top over her shoulders and patted down her skirt. Yeah, fuck getting married, she thought.

The clock struck four and Marlo wished her boss a good night. As she strode through the office on her way out she noticed how so many men surreptitiously stared at her body. Sometimes, it was tough being a woman in a male-dominated office building, but it did serve its purpose.

Marlo Thompson had gotten the Hemmings report done and on her boss' desk in record time, had managed to get a small aerobic work out for the day, and still kept her shirt on while doing it. Not bad for a day's work. Now she could go home and freshen up before dinner.

Author's note: I'm always interested in your votes and feedback. Every suggestion and comment is considered. The writer, after all, is at the service of the reader.