Adult Situations Ch. 43-44

Phil was in his early to mid-forties, had short dark hair, and was a tall almost gangly man. He actually looked in good shape. He also had an intensity about him. He was able to instantly zoom his focus in on you and hold it there.

I said, "As I told you on the phone, I had several talks with Kim Stanley."

"A good friend," Phil said as we stood in his office and he laughed. "She told me you were one of her lovers, along with your father." He smirked.

I shrugged. "I do love her. She's moved in, at least partially, with my dad. We do hook-up occasionally."

"You got a look at our offices walking through to my office, but not the Command Center. Come and let me show you the hub of what we do, then we can talk."

A short distance from Phil's office, he opened a door into a huge room with high ceilings. In some ways, it looked like a NASA control room. One part had several large electronic maps of the world, crisscrossed with lines of different colors and widths. Numbers all over the screen updated every few seconds. In a few places there were blinking yellow signals to focus somebody's attention on the area. I guessed that they might also be red lights for real disasters.

Phil said, "That's the Internet backbone on the left, and our clients' backbone on the right. It's real time. If a link goes down, we know it, and can instantly tell how it'll affect our network customers. Rerouting is done automatically, so no problem most of the time. We can also see the capacity of those links and the traffic volume."

In another part of the room was a larger North American map that was less geographic and more symbolic. Phil explained, "This is also a customer-centric map. The colors and numbers on the various links tell us who's who, and how their network traffic is fairing."

One link suddenly started to blink yellow and then went to red. A chime went off in the room. Two of the staff at terminals in front of the display were talking and pointing. Various online activities were done by one of the men, and suddenly the blinking red link, went to solid green.

Phil said, "I guess they lost one of their major connection hubs for that business. I'd guess a router failure of some kind. They by-passed it. One of the men is calling the contact in the company as they also run diagnostics. They'll have it sorted out in a few minutes. In the meantime, no data lost and full communications restored.

"You specialize in security. If that event was caused by a security breach, virus, or some other malicious technology attack, we'll know that and start to cope with it. The staff involved with that side of things are down the hall in their offices."

We went back to Phil's office. In the process, I got introduced to two men, a woman, and then Phil's admin assistant, a slender pretty woman named Jean Muir. I made note of Jean because she had eyes that seemed to sparkle with mischief. The rest of her was pretty easy on the eyes, too, including her four-inch black patent leather heels.

Phil commented after we were well into his office. "Jean is gem, but it has taken all my resolve not to come on to her. She's a fabulous AA."

"How long have you had her in that role?"

"Five years. She knows the business as well as I do." Jean must have worked someplace else, because I guessed her age to be around thirty.

"Then as I accept this post, I want her right here in the executive suite. As you fade away, she's the one that'll really be running the company and not me." I chuckled, but there was more truth to that than I cared to think about.

Phil took me to lunch at a nearby eatery. He ran through the men and women that were direct reports to him -- basically half of the other fifty people in the company. I knew enough about span of control to know that situation was going to change. A span of one-to-twenty-five would drive me crazy. I could see four to six, but no more.

The other thing I worried about was the compensation plan, or rather the lack of one. Everyone in the company got some kind of bonus based on company performance. That was good. The rest in terms of promotions and raises seemed based on Phil's capricious thoughts twice a year.

Phil explained that he thought I'd be cast as having accepted the job as the Chief Operating Officer or COO of the growing company. I graciously accepted his offer of a $50,000 signing bonus, and an annual base of $250,000. I'd also be eligible for up to half my salary as a bonus based on company performance, prorated from that day -- my start date. I figured that I'd adjust that up or down later when I was more in charge. I was even thinking of having an 'outside' compensation committee. I wondered whether Kim had told Phil that I'd turned down her signing bonus.

In the afternoon, as expected, I met two of Phil's right-hand staff. Phil made no secret that I was a personal friend of Kim Stanley, and that that fact could only bode well for Cyber Solutions in terms of our growth and long-term profitability. His excuse to hire me as COO seemed to pass muster with the two men.

Andrea Smart was the head of Network Solutions and had held that post for two years. She had coke bottle glasses and wore jeans and hiking boots. She achieved her goal of being one of the boys.

Ron Carter was the head of what was called Network Compatibility. He had trouble describing to me the scope of his work vis-à-vis the others in the company. I suspected he was jack-of-all-trades, and a genuine problem solver. He also had graduated from college early and been a classic nerd.

I talked to Ron and Andrea the rest of the afternoon in a conference room just outside Phil's office. Jean brought us colas and made sure we were all right.

Phil came into the conference room just after five o'clock and suggested that we wrap up for the day. I was to stay over at a motel near the office. Phil handed me a paper that told me that Bill Howard would meet me in my hotel's lobby the next morning for breakfast at eight a.m. Then I'd meet with some of the others in the company over the next two days. This was what he'd outlined to me on the phone, so it sounded right.

We broke up for the day. I headed out to my rental car and drove to the motel that they'd arranged for me -- an upscale La Quinta inn. They'd gotten me what the hotel called a housekeeping suite -- basically a small living room with a TV and sofa, and a bedroom with ensuite bath.

I called home and checked in with Crystal and Carol, and then Elynn, Cory, and Heather. I also sent an 'I love you' text to Tara who was out in the Seattle area by then.

I just gotten off the phone when there was a knock on my door. I wasn't expecting anybody, so I opened the door full of curiosity.

Jean Muir stood in front of me with a smile and sexy pose that jaunted one hip back towards the elevator.

"Jean, hello."

"You, kind sir, are coming with me to dinner. No arguments. The places near here are fast food. I, on the other hand, have real food hand-crafted for your palate." She laughed at her silliness and then sashayed past me into the room. "Come on, no jacket required. Get your room key and let's go. I'll drive. It's not that far. I'll bring you back after dinner."

I was surprised, almost shocked at Jean's behavior. I got my iPhone, Wallet, and room key, and followed her. She said, "I'll have you back here for tomorrow, so don't worry." I briefly pondered that remark.

Jean took me to an apartment complex about two miles from the motel I'd been at. Even in rush hour and hitting the lights wrong, the drive only took ten minutes.

As we drove, I learned about Jean: born in D.C., Army brat, thirty-one, and loved computers and networking but didn't have the education or experience to be a techy. So, she got an admin job for a company where she might learn things and get to help. She told me she was good on all counts.

Jean's apartment was just what I expected for a single woman her age, maybe even a little nicer: two bedrooms, two baths, living room, dining and kitchen area, and reserved parking near her door. The whole complex was secure with all sorts of camera and a patrolling campus cop.

The aroma hit me as I walked in the door. "Wow! What's that?"

Jean said, "If it worked correctly, that is our dinner. Go sit down, while I check on things." Jean had apparently raced home at lunch and set up a slow-cooker with a roast with vegetables.

My surprise came when she brought me a glass of white wine. "I'm guessing that you're a white wine drinker."

"Yes, but on what basis?"

"You matured as a nerd. All nerds drink white wine." She laughed and then sipped her own wine.

We ate almost immediately, which was fine with me. I was hungry, plus the aromas had made any priorities I had move food to the top of the list. I was starting to get the feeling that Jean had another list.

Over dinner, I learned that Jean had done all the research on me. They'd gotten a recommendation and some information from Kim Stanley, but not much more. The rest was in their court. I felt good about that. My being solicited was based on their own work on not on Kim's insistence.

Jean said, "So, I got all your college records, even talked to a couple of your professors, and tied down the start of your business. We know the folks at Knightsbridge Manufacturing, too; so they gave us not only a glowing reference, but a report on how you'd gotten their attention with humor and a little nudity. See, we know all about you." She was teasing me and loving it.

"All?" I posed in a retort.

Jean shook her head. "Well, I learned about your socio-sexual side of life, too. It took a PI to determine that, but we did want to do our due diligence."

"All?" I teased again, daring her to state what I already knew.

"I know you got married about a year ago, that you also have a fiancée. I know that those two women run a photography studio, and that they also make adult films and that you star in many of them."

Jean picked up a nearby remote and clicked on the living room television. It immediately started to play a pornographic video in which I was the star male performer opposite Jill Timms. We were rolling around in bed and talking, but the volume was off.

Jean continued, "I know that you and your father have weekly sex parties on Saturday nights, but that any night is good for others to drop by to get their horns trimmed. The PI's assessment was that you and your friends have the most active libidos of any people he's ever known.

"I know that you are a favorite among the women, too. In a way, you're engaged to all of them and they range in age from eighteen to mid-fifties with Jill Timms; she pointed to the TV screen. Further, I know that you really love the women you romance on video. There is nothing crude or dismissive about your relationships with them."

I said, "I don't think that Jill's name was supposed to get out in public."

"Oh, it didn't. Again, our PI did his deep digging. We needed to know whether you could be blackmailed."

I laughed, "For what?"

"All sorts of reasons. A couple of our government clients might care, but we're not concerned. We concluded that you couldn't be blackmailed because you don't really care who knows. You hide nothing from your family, neighbors, and close friends, and don't care about the rest. You've filled up your house with some men and women that you also have open relationships with."

I shrugged. "Yep, that's me. No secrets. Those that matter, don't care; and those that care, don't matter. What would you like to know?"

Jean smirked, "Do you really have sex parties every week?"

I said in a more serious tone, "Only a few of them have been 'official' sex parties -- gatherings with that title. The other sex parties were our wedding reception, a graduation party about a month later, a July Fourth celebration, and then there was Labor Day. We're just thinking about the holiday period.

"All the other Saturdays, our friends just show up with expectations that they somehow make materialize. I think the feeling is, if you build it, they will come. Most people come." I laughed at my double entendre.

"And you are the biggest man slut there?" Jean posed with some humor. She sipped her wine in a sexy way and looked over the rim at me. She was smiling.

"I do enjoy sexual encounters with my friends. I have nothing to hide. Many of them have been in Crystal's videos, and then there are over a hundred -- coming up on two hundred videos that he studio has done. The participants were almost entirely women that we've made 'private porn' videos for."

"Private porn?" Jean looked confused.

"Let me explain. Instead of glamor shots, some women come to Crystal Blue Photography and they want an hour video of them getting the stuffing fucked out of them. A lot of the time, I am the lead male. We make the video, it gets edited, and usually on some special occasion such as an anniversary, the wife presents it to her husband or boyfriend. Said husband is perturbed but aroused, and so the vid rekindles his sexuality with his wife, as intended. That's a typical scenario."

"Is that a money maker?"

"I think Crystal and company net about $2,000 to $4,000 to do that. There's usually an X-rated photo album to go with the video."

"And that's kept secret?"

"By us, yes, but by the customer, not always. The women tell their friends, and then they want to do the same thing that their friend did. I guess I'm an okay lover, because they often ask for me specifically. The marketing is mostly by word of mouth. Say, a few women have gone public and sold their videos to one or another porn site.

"Going in the other direction, many of the husbands put the video on their smart phone and then show it to all of their friends. They're proud of what they wife did and show off a little at her audacity." I waved my hand dismissively.

Jean made a little swoon, "I definitely have the right guy."

"Right guy?"

"The guy that's going to fuck my lights out tonight."

"There's more to it than that?" I said cautiously.

Jean looked worried. "I'm clean and can prove it. I haven't been with anybody for almost a year and I've been tested. I have no emotional entanglements... well, except for Phil, but he doesn't know it and he's married anyway. You might be an entanglement, but I promise it won't affect my performance at work. I'll be even a better AA if I'm getting laid all the time." She looked eager.

"So, poof, just like that you want me to fuck you? You know you'll end up reporting to me, at least part of the time. That's kind of a forbidden zone, isn't it? You could sue me and the company for harassment." I was only partly teasing. I'd never been so blatantly propositioned by someone that I hadn't already had sex with.

Jean slowly and sensuously nodded. "I know all that. I reject the negative stuff."

"Come sit in my lap and kiss me."

The svelte blonde rose and came around the table. She was a little shy, but knew what she wanted. I tried to decide what to make of this situation.

Jean sat in my lap. She was amazingly light. Five-foot-five. Blue eyes searched mine, and then I felt her lips on mine. I could almost hear the sizzle in the room as we kissed, it was so hot. We repeated that several times, more slowly and with more emotions coming into play.

She then stood beside me and peeled off her top and doffed her bra. She was back in my lap kissing me in seconds. When I kissed her breasts and suckled her nipples, she made sounds of ecstasy. I palmed on one breast and sucked on the other, my tongue laving over the nipple and areola.

After a few minutes of that, Jean jumped up again and dropped her knee-length skirt and then peeled her undies down her legs. Except for those sexy heels she'd worn all-day at the office, she was deliciously nude. She had a tattoo to the right of her mons -- a small red heart that said, 'Love me'. I thought about how that was going to happen.

I was separated from my clothing by a very insistent woman about my age. She then pushed me back into my dinner chair and started a blowjob that proved that she liked cock, knew what she was doing, didn't have a gag reflex, and liked having her nose against my pubes as she turned her head and did little things with her throat. God, she was sexy.

When I felt the first twinge, I pulled her up. I led her back to her dinner chair and had her sit. She wondered what was happening. I showed her just about everything I could think of to do with two hands, ten fingers, a mouth, lips, a tongue, a love of feminine juices, and an eagerness to deliver pleasure.

"OH, FUCK, YOU DO THAT SO WELL." I had Jean's complete attention. She had one leg resting on the dinner table and the other foot on the floor.

I carried her to her bed a little later, and then was buried to the hilt inside her body. We made love for the next forty minutes -- four orgasms for her, and one for me. She was a delightful sexual partner.

We rested and repeated that scenario twice again before midnight. Jean, of course, was astounded and awed when I went down on her after ejaculating inside her body, fundamentally cleaning up my own mess. I did that each time. She'd never snowballed before, so I showed her how that sport could also be arousing and highly sexual. She loved it, so we did it some more with each load.

I got an Uber back to the hotel just after midnight. I had tucked Jean in snugly with kisses into her bed to sleep. She was in a sex fog from the results of our evening.

The next morning, I met Bill Howard in the motel lobby and we had breakfast in the hotel's restaurant. Bill had the title Head of Cyber Software. He was a systems development guy, and ate, slept, talked, and dreamed in C+ and a dozen other mysterious and even arcane programming languages. He talking about all the different projects he had going on for Cyber Solutions customers, and I could tell he loved his work. He had the largest staff of any of the other sub-units except for the Network people that ran four shifts 24/7.

After breakfast, we drove to the office separately.

As I went inside, I came to Jean's desk where she sat looking beautiful and with adoring eyes at me. I spoke first, "Miss Muir, good morning. You look lovely and crisp this morning. I hope you had a nice evening last night."

"Oh, Mr. Toller, I did. I did. I hope to repeat it tonight, too."

"I suppose some nights are always worth repeating." I winked.

"Mr. Rothman is waiting for you, but just for a minute. You're going to spend the morning talking with Haley Shelton. She runs our cloud services organization."

"Ah, so she has her head in the clouds. You seemed a bit that way last night." I whispered the last sentence and she secretly laughed and nodded.

After greeting Phil, Jean escorted me up one floor (into the cloud?) to Haley's office. I knew more about the cloud and her server farm than I wanted to by lunch time.

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A List of Characters (Personae Dramatis) may be found in the chapter labeled CAST in the list of the chapters for this story.

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List of Characters (Dramatis Personae)

Couples grouped together.

Dave Toller and Crystal Wolcott -- cyber security expert/Ross's son & flight attendant/runs Crystal Blue Photography (CBP).

Ross Toller & Trish Wolcott -- Investment manager/Dave's father & nurse/Crystal's older sister.

Greg Caldwell & Darlene Mentis -- Lawyer & nurse. She works w Trish.

Mitch & Deborah Singer -- Runs Silver's Gym & flight attendant.

Molly & Jake Walters -- private porn client of CBP & kinky husband.

Allison & William Kirby -- private porn client of CBP & husband.

Kit & Dax Morrison -- private porn clients of CBP.

Brian & Beth Wolcott -- Trish & Crystal's parents. Farm equipment sales & middle school teacher.