The Permit

I'm not patient. Those who know me best describe me as a determined overachiever. I put myself through school, run my own business, and just bought my first house - and I just turned 25. I'm only truly happy when I'm in control - the main reason I knew I had to go into business for myself, rather than settling for working for someone else. I'm a stickler for details and have very high standards in all that I do. And I can't rest until I know a job is done.

Which is why I insisted on serving as the contractor for the work that needed to be done on my new home. Actually, it was a very old home - a beautiful Victorian from 1890 - which needed some substantial restoration work to be brought back to its former glory. I had planned out the project, hired professionals to do the work I couldn't do myself, and was ready to get rolling, when my electrician pointed out that I couldn't do a thing until I got the necessary permits.

So, I made a point of scheduling a visit to the city office building the next day. I had called ahead to make sure they were open, but somehow the person I spoke with didn't feel it necessary to mention that the one person who could actually help me with my permit always took lunch at exactly the time I planned to come, so I ended up waiting for 45 minutes. Oh well, I told myself, it was worth the frustration so that I could start the work.

Exactly as the big, old-fashioned clock on the wall struck 1:30, he entered the office, walking right past me and sitting at his desk. I was a little surprised at his lack of customer service skills, but figured I'd give him a second to get settled before asking for his attention. I'd had plenty of time to stare at the nameplate on his desk, and was debating whether to address him as Jim, or Mr. Taylor.

Not that he didn't notice me; he just seemed to see me more as an object than a citizen he was hired to serve. He looked me up and down, studying my long bare legs, crossed under a mid-thigh-length skirt, and lingering over my tits, perky under a buttoned cotton sweater. Just as I should have expected. OK, that was enough time for him to settled after lunch, not to mention plenty of time for him to ogle me. Now he could help me with what I'd come there to accomplish.

"Excuse me, I need to get a permit for some work on my home? It's within the historic district."

"OK, please fill out these forms," he said, handing me several pages worth of city documents, "and return them to me when you're done."

I returned to my seat, taking a pen from the jar on his desk, and began filling out the forms, answering a seemingly endless string of questions about the work I was planning, the people I'd hired to do it, and its impact on the historic nature of my home and the neighborhood. I looked at my watch more than once, concerned with how much of my day was being eaten up with this bureaucracy - after all, it's not like I wanted to tear down the beautiful victorian and replace it with a strip mall. I was trying to restore it!

"OK, here you go," I said as I handed the forms back to him, hoping to receive my permit in return.

"OK, thank you, um," he searched for my name on the form to finish his sentence, "Kristie." He stamped the forms in several places, and then looked up as he placed them in a large stack on one corner of his desk. "You can come back in two weeks for your permit, unless you'd like us to mail it to you?"

"Um, excuse me, two weeks?"

"That's right, two weeks is the standard for new permits. Are there any other questions I can answer for you?" He had clearly been doing this job for years, exhibiting a calm confidence as he maintained the bureaucratic status quo in spite of my obvious irritation.

"Is there no way to speed up the process? I'm really desperate to get started on this work."

"Listen, I'm sorry, but there's nothing I can do. Two weeks is two weeks. You'll just need to learn a little discipline." He was still calm, unflappable, but his words hung in the air as his piercing blue eyes stared deep into mine.

I blushed, then at the embarrassment of blushing at the word 'discipline', blushed even hotter. Did he mean it as a double entendre? Was he just messing with me, because he knew he held the power in this situation? Much as I knew I'd probably hate myself later, I quickly decided that it would probably be worth flirting with him in an effort to get past the two weeks of red tape.

I unbuttoned the top button of my sweater, put my hand on the edge of his desk, and leaned towards him. "I'm really not the patient type, Jim. Any chance you could move my permit through the system any faster?"

"Hey, I'll be happy to go out with you, but it'll still be a two-week wait on the permit."

Furious and humiliated, I stormed out of the office. Then stormed back in for the jacket I had forgotten, then stormed back out again. Jeez, what a nightmare. It was a rare experience for me, this inability to make something happen. And even more rare, not to be able to rely on my sexuality when all else failed.

One day short of two weeks later, his secretary called, setting a time for me to come by his office. Finally, the work could begin! As I entered the office, I had to pinch myself to remain aloof; Jim was even more attractive than I'd remembered.

"Thanks for coming in, Kristie, there were just a few things you neglected to fill in on the forms, and then I need you to sign on the bottom of page 4."

I quickly scribbled my responses in the blanks, signed the bottom of page 4, and hastily handed the forms back, eager to be on my way.

"Great, thank you. So, the two weeks start today, we'll let you know when your permit is ready!"

"What? You've got to be kidding me - I've already waited two weeks!" I was livid, and resorted to something I thought I never would. Keeping my eyes on his, I reached into my purse and pulled out some cash, offering it in his direction. "Any chance this might speed things up?"

"Oh, no, Kristie. I can't accept that. Besides, as I've already told you, two weeks is two weeks. Nothing more I can do."

Again, I was embarrassed. First, he had refused my flirtateous advances, and now, still cool and collected behind his desk, he pulled the moral high road when I tried to bribe him. I refused to believe that this red tape was insurmountable. Time to pull out all the stops.

"Well, OK. Maybe I do need to learn a little discipline." Gaining courage from the twinkle I swore I saw in his eyes, I continued, "Are you the one who would be giving it to me?"

"OK, Kristie, how about we meet for drinks tonight after work."

I left his office, more slowly this time, convinced that I had managed to work some magic. A few drinks, a little more suggestive talk, and I was sure I'd have him wrapped around my little finger, handing over the permit. I went home, chose a flattering little black dress, combed my long blonde hair into a cute 'do, and made it to the bar we'd agreed on, just in time.

He was quite late - 40 minutes late, arriving just as steam literally began to come out of my ears. How hard was it, exactly, for him to walk the two blocks from his office to this place? But it was no accident that he was late. This was all part of his plan to teach me a little patience, a little discipline.

"So, hope you didn't mind waiting?"

"You know I did, but hey, no problem."

"Good girl. Another drink?"

"Absolutely."

We chatted for a few minutes, sipping our drinks, before I couldn't take it any more, and asked about the status of my permit.

"Kristie, I really don't like to talk about work when I'm not on the clock. Suffice it to say, the answer's not going to change. Two weeks is two weeks."

What the hell was he up to here? Was he really not going to budge? Why had he agreed to go out for drinks? As if in answer to these silent questions, he changed the subject.

"So, we've already worked a bit on your patience this evening. I'm impressed that you waited so long for my arrival. Now perhaps we should focus on your discipline. Where would you suggest we begin?"

"Uh, what?"

His hand grazed my leg, one finger tracing a slow and delicate path from my ankle to the hem of my dress. "Well, I'm just wondering," the sparkle again in his eyes, "are you going to cry out for a spanking, or will it be enough just for me to force my cock down your throat and deny you an orgasm until you've given me at least two or three?"

My brain was screaming at me to object, to toss my drink in his face and walk out, some of my pride still intact. But my skin was hot from his touch, and I was shocked to find myself turned on by the way he talked to me. I blushed again, and realizing that others in the bar could see me, let my head fall, hiding my face from view.

He leaned in, whispering in my ear as his fingers now reached under my dress, stroking ever closer to my hot pussy. "Are you ready for a real lesson in patience and discipline?"

"Yes, yes," I whispered as his fingers reached my clit. I couldn't believe he was fingering me right here in the bar, couldn't believe I was letting him, couldn't even remember the reason I was here in the first place, but none of it mattered anymore. I couldn't believe how freeing it was to give up control so completely. He brought me to the brink of orgasm with his fingers, then stopped abruptly, before paying for the drinks and leading me back to his office.

By the time we arrived, I remembered my motivation again, and was back to my controlling ways. I was still turned on and eager to make out with this guy, but I would make it my mission to get him off as soon as possible so he'd finally give in and let me leave with the permit.

And so began our all-night battle of wills. I was determined to satisfy him, thinking that he'd give me what I had come for as soon as he'd had his way with me. And he was equally determined to teach me a little patience, showing me who was truly in charge. From the start, it was the hottest sex I'd ever had.

He unzipped my dress, watched it fall to the floor, and began fondling my tits, squeezing and nuzzling as I felt his hard cock grow against my leg. When I tried to wrap my arms around him, he grabbed both wrists in one of his strong hands and held my arms forcefully behind my back. He continued fondling me, now nibbling and pinching my nipples more forcefully.

I continued struggling against him, not wanting him to stop, but simply wanting to gain the upper hand. He responded by pushing me down to my knees and pressing my face against his crotch. He was still fully-clothed, but quickly remedied that, whipping off his belt and unzipping his fly to give me access to his cock. But again, when I reached for it with my hands, he pushed them away, grabbing my hair in his hands and forcing me to take his full length into my mouth.

It was easy at first, but as he began to grow more erect, I could barely handle his thrusts, gagging and continuing to struggle for control. I knew I could bring him to orgasm if he let me use my hands, stroking his shaft and cradling his balls as I sucked him off, but he wouldn't let me!

After a few more minutes of pounding my mouth, he pulled me up to my feet, and told me to make myself comfortable as he excused himself for a few minutes. I did indeed make myself comfortable, removing my bra and panties and letting down my hair. I also decided to search his desk for my paperwork, convinced that my permit was sitting there somewhere.

"Just what do you think you're doing?"

I wasn't sure what I felt first - the heat of his body as he came up behind me, or the sting of his words, realizing I'd been caught. Before I had a chance to answer, he pushed me down so that my hands and forearms rested on his desk, a pile of paperwork in front of my face, and asked me to spread my legs.

I couldn't see him from this position, and he began to tease my pussy mercilessly. First, he spread my ass cheeks apart and fingered me, easily wetting several fingers and forcing them deep inside. Next it was his cock - he was obviously naked now - rubbing back and forth. Just as I began to settle into a comfortable rhythm, he pulled away, instead shoving what felt like a small dildo into my virgin ass.

I cried out in pain, but as I tried to stand up to protest, he again took control, pressing his full body against mine so I couldn't move from my vulnerable position. Just as quickly as he had shocked me with pain, pain that had since turned into pleasure, the dildo was gone and he was again stroking my pussy lips with his cock.

"Please, please, just fuck me! I can't take it any more!"

"Oh, sure you can. Just a little discipline, that's all."

Before I knew it, he had let me up, but just long enough to push me back to my knees, and I was sucking his cock again, this time tasting just the hint of my own juices. Much to my satisfaction, this time around he did allow me the use of my hands, and before long, I had him moaning as he pounded into my mouth.

But again, he was the one in control, pulling out and again changing our positions before he succumbed to the climax of orgasm. He pulled me to my feet, cupped my pussy with his hand, and began fondling my clit and pussy lips as he forced his tongue down my throat. Once again, he had led me to forget my mission. My obsession with the permit had disappeared; my insistence on gaining the upper hand slipped away as he slipped his fingers inside of me and began fucking me.

I had stopped protesting, stopped begging for his cock, and this is precisely when he gave in and gave it to me. We explored position after position over the next hour - standing, across his desk, on the floor, against the wall - his hard cock filling me completely as we shifted from deep, gentle movements to hard and fast fucking.

I finally couldn't hold back the orgasm any longer, and began crying out as he brought me to the most profound pleasure I'd ever experienced.

"Yes, god yes, Jim, you're going to make me cum!"

"That's it, Kristie, just keep that going, just like that, I'm going to cum with you! Yes, yes, yes, yessssssss!"

I collapsed to the floor in sheer exhaustion after we had both cum, and would have fallen asleep right there if I hadn't soon remembered where I was. I didn't want to read that headline in the town paper, so slowly began gathering my clothes and getting dressed.

"I'm proud of you, Kristie. A little discipline can really pay off, don't you think?"

"I would never have believed it, but yes, that was certainly worth waiting for."

"So, see you in two weeks, then, for the permit?"

"You bet."