Boardroom Politics

Politics

Simon's ears pricked up. He wasn't sure, but he though that he had heard something, someone, moving about in the building. Yes! It was unmistakable this time - a noise from the far room. He had assumed that he was alone, working late to finish off a report for the following day, but these noises were unmistakable evidence that there was someone else there with him.

He stood and, carefully pushing his chair away from the desk, moved cautiously out of his room and down the isles of benches in the workshop immediately outside his office to the double swing door at the far end. Arriving at the doors he waited and peered through a plastic window into the gloomy half light of the stores area - a maze of wire mesh walls and shelves which partially obscured the view across the storage area to the Manager's office beyond.

This island cubicle, some twenty feet away from him, unlike the main stores, had solid walls and from beneath the battered door a narrow strip of pallid light flickered as movement interrupted its beam. The grunting and gasping and muffled sounds of sex also told him that the office was occupied by more than one person.

He opened one of the swing doors slowly and stepped, gingerly, into the storeroom letting the door swing closed silently behind him. The sounds were louder now, whether it was because that he was closer and now inside the adjacent room, or because the participants had reached a higher state of arousal, he wasn't sure.

Moving on tip toe across the floor he stopped again outside the little office and looked through the small rectangular window set in the door - the only window in a room barely big enough for the sparse furniture it contained.

What he saw startled him. It wasn't the activity underway in that confined space, because common sense had already told him from the noises what to expect, but it was the identity of one the two participants.

Standing with his back partly turned towards Simon and with his trousers around his ankles, was the Store Manager himself - a tall, thin, but untidy man in his mid thirties whose morose nature did little to endear him to his fellow workers. The hands on his outstretched arms held the pale naked legs of a woman whose firm white thighs were pulled up and out. She was lying on her back on the desk before him and the angle between Simon and the couple allowed the latter to see that the skirt of her dress was raised and gathered into a bunch around her waist. Her left thigh swept up to join her smooth flat stomach and Simon could just see glimpses of the tall man's rigid red penis as it drove in and out of the hairy mound that bridged the gap between her legs.

The front of her low-cut dress had been pulled down to allow two succulent marble-white breasts to spill out and she was fondling herself roughly as the penis pounded hard into her.

Simon knew the woman well, it was Diane, his Purchasing Manager, a gorgeous brunette in her early thirties and the live-in partner of Mike Evans - Simon's predecessor, who had discretely left the company when his relationship with Diane had developed into a public affair.

Whilst Mike had been in charge, Diane's relationship with him had allowed her to take upon herself an air of authority that she ordinarily would not have commanded and she had found her situation after Simon's arrival, as her new boss, rather difficult to deal with. Consequently, her attitude to him was business-like but aloof. This irked Simon because he always made a point of getting on well with his staff and he resented her attitude towards him.

No! Resentment did not really describe his feelings - he actually thought that the haughty bitch needed to be brought down a peg or two.

He particularly regretted the existence of this animosity because she was a lovely looking woman and he found himself unwittingly attracted to her. Attracted to her small, slim frame, her dark eyes and her unruly brown hair that she always wore long. In all, she had the appearance of a young gypsy girl and she exploited this with dresses that were in keeping with that theme. It was a plus that many of these often presented her cleavage to wonderful advantage.

Contrasting with her dark eyes and hair, her skin was as pale as alabaster and it was not difficult to understand why the Victorians held this combination in such high regard.

The sight of this professional, self assured and half naked women writhing on her back and moaning like a cheap whore on a desk in a dingy office, and being fucked hard by this scruffy individual, both amused and excited Simon. His penis twitched involuntarily and grew uncomfortably in his shorts as he continued to watch, but he soon realised that neither of them could last for long at the pace they were going. The noises they were making indicated that this encounter would soon be over, so he smiled wryly to himself and turned, retracing his steps to his office and continued the work that he had interrupted.

It must have been about five minutes later when the Stores Manager emerged alone. He trudged wearily down the isles holding his coat and disappeared out through the exit door next to Simon's office. Simon said goodnight but only received a grunt in reply.

A few moments later Diane appeared. She had walked almost half the length of the workshop before she saw Simon and her pace faltered. She stopped at his door, obliged, she must have thought, to offer an explanation for her presence so late in the evening.

"Oh, hello Simon. Ken and I have just been sorting out a stock discrepancy. It's OK now though so I'm off. Goodnight."

She had stood at his open office door as she spoke and was fumbling, head down, in her bag for her car keys. When she retrieved them she followed Ken out through the exit.

" Goodnight Diane - see you tomorrow!" he said cheerily to her retreating form.

As the outside door opened, she repeated, "Yes! Goodnight."

It closed automatically behind her and Simon sat pondering the situation and wondering how it could be turned to his advantage.

*****

For the whole of the next morning Simon was in a meeting and for the early part of the afternoon he was interviewing, so it was quite late in the day before Diane could bring the day's orders into his office for signing. She sat, as she always sat, in a chair in front of his desk as he went through them, supplying answers to whatever queries he might have about them.

She was wearing another of her 'gypsy' dresses only this one buttoned up to her neck with tiny white pearl buttons and it swirled about her knees as she walked. On her feet she wore flat little slippers - almost like ballet shoes, but patterned. Nevertheless, the picture that Simon saw in his mind's eye was the one from the night before and he felt himself becoming very aroused as he kept casting glances in her direction.

When the last form was signed, he sat back, placed the top back on his pen and looked at her as she gathered up the papers.

"Do you have many problems with stock discrepancies that required your late night attention, Diane?" he asked pointedly.

Her dark eyes flashed with alarm and she stopped what she was doing and let her gaze drop to papers she was holding in her lap.

"No, not too many," then added without looking at him, "Ken is pretty helpful when it comes to sorting them out."

"Homes straight in on the problem, does he?" Simon challenged.

Diane sensed a double meaning but knew better than to rebut what could only be seen as an innocent question.

"Diane, you know that whilst I am living in lodging close by and have to stay here in the office to goodness knows what time every night, that I would be more than happy to help you to sort out any problems that you might have."

She mumbled her thanks and he pressed on.

" How does Mike like you working until all hours; it must be a bit of a drag for him?"

"Oh, he's cool about it. He knows from when he worked here that I often work late."

As soon as she had said it she reddened, realising that most of the times when she had 'worked late' whilst working for Mike, was so she and he could get together.

Simon commented rather pointedly, " But you had an ulterior motive in those days, did you not. I hope he doesn't think you have the same reason now."

"Of course he doesn't," she blustered.

"Diane, I don't know Mike very well but he seems to be a nice guy and he has given up a lot for you. …Do you know what I'm saying?"

She countered, her voice thin and broken, " I don't see as it is any of your business what I do."

"I'm sorry to say, Diane, that having my Stores Manager fuck your brains out on his desk, is my business - an office affair is why Mike had to leave his job. Do you and Ken want to suffer the same fate?"

Her face went ashen, her mouth opened and closed rhythmically and her fingers wreaked havoc on the helpless papers she was holding.

"You saw us, when?" she whispered, flicking her eyes up to his then downwards again, little realising that she had admitted to more than one occurrence of last night's encounter.

"Never mind 'when'. How long have you been cheating on Mike?"

"You're not going to tell him, are you?" her voice was near to panic - more so than when her job seemed threatened.

"I don't know." Simon replied honestly.

"Ken saw Mike and I in the early days and threatened to tell Mike's wife unless…"

"So you pay for silence with sex, is that it?" Simon asked and then added, "but that doesn't explain last night or any of the night's since Mike left?"

"I can't explain….Oh, maybe I can… Ken was an exciting bit of rough - still is. It's like an addiction."

Her dark eyes slowly looked up and starred defiantly into his, " So what is your price for silence, Simon?"

He studied her face, measuring his reply, then lowered his voice, "You must know that I am attracted to you Diane - that I have wanted to do what I saw Ken doing last night."

Her face melted into a subtle smile as if to say, 'I thought so.'

"You're a bastard Simon, but I have to say you're a handsome bastard. So how do you want me, naked on you're desk, doggy style on the floor or would you like me to give you a nice wet blowjob?"

"Well, I'm sure that by the time we have finished we will have covered all those and a few more as well," Simon grinned back at her taunting face.

"And when and where would 'Sir' like his pleasure?"

The straining penis in Simon's pants said ' here and now' but the man realised that he needed time and space to enjoy the fruits of his blackmail.

"I thought that you and I should attend a meeting in the boardroom later this evening - say seven thirty?"

She performed a mock curtsy to him and answered, "Until later then, Sir," and left his office.

**

At 7:15 Simon walked along the dark corridor on the first floor and unlocked the Boardroom with his 'privilege ' key. The uncloaked full moon lay low in the evening sky and provided subdued illumination in the silent office so that, without switching on the lights, he was able to cross the floor to the drinks cabinet. There, he poured himself a large scotch and water and slumped down into one of the opulent chairs that surrounded the large polished table. He sipped the amber liquid slowly, listening for the footfalls he expected to hear.

At 7:30 exactly, he heard that sound and at 7:31 the knob of the boardroom door turned and the door swung open revealing an empty void. When she stepped into the light, she stood still for a moment, taking in the room's contents before turning and closing the door. She turned the key and leaned back against the door, arms clasped beneath her bosom looking every inch the peasant girl waiting to be summoned into the master's presence.

For almost thirty seconds they remained, silent and still, looking at each other like cats in a staring contest before she said," I'm here."

"So you are," he replied, "Come here."

She hesitated, just enough to establish that she was not prepared to jump at his every command, then sidled over and stood next to him. He pushed himself back from the table on the wheeled chair and took her hand, pulling her in front of him, filling the space between himself and the table. She leaned back against it, confidently holding his gaze with her bright brown eyes.

She was still wearing the high-buttoned dress she had worn earlier and after a few moments of challenging eye contact she slowly raised her hands to the top button, paused and then flipped it open effortlessly. Moving lower she released the second and then the third before pausing again to lean further back and let the dress gape a little as her pert breasts thrust forward.

Slipping the flat shoes off her small feet she lifted one leg and, still holding eye contact with him, placed it upright into his groin and pressed it firmly against his aroused penis. Simon thrust forward into it to feel the full length of her bare foot along his shaft as it tested and measured the size of his organ. Whilst she gently rubbed it, she continued to unfasten the rest of the buttons on her dress with an agonising slowness that added extra millimetres to his already straining cock forcing her to revise her first estimate of its length. Finally, the top half of her dress fell open and, because she wasn't wearing a bra, the upper part of each pale globe came into view and overflowed its confinement.

She continued to rub his excited crotch with her foot as she slipped her dress off each shoulder and let it fall to her waist. Simon's heart missed a beat. She was beautiful. Her proud breasts glowed opalescent in the moonlight and her rigid and protruding nipples indicated that sexual arousal was by no means one sided. Taking a breast in each hand she lifted them and presented them to him - a knowing smile wrinkling the corners of her mouth.

Simon could not have stopped himself even if he had wanted to. He stood up, reluctantly letting her foot fall to the ground and reached out to hold her by the waist, lowering his head to her cleavage and inhaling her heady scent. This filled his nostrils and he let his mouth plunge deep into the crevice before him, sucking and licking the smooth warm skin until she sighed and pulled his head harder into her firm mounds.

He was gnawing now, talking a whole breast at a time inside his mouth feeling its superb texture on the surface of his tongue. She had not intended to become aroused, determined that she would pay his price and leave, but she could feel nature taking over. Her nipples ached at his touch and her pussy moistened and grew in size between her legs. She needed him to touch it so badly and she pushed his head down her stomach towards that destination.

His hands had already travelled south and were now making there way up between her parted thighs, taking the thin cotton folds of her skirt with them.

If the scent from her upper body had caused his head to spin, the narcotic mixture of her perfume and the scent of arousal from between her legs released a sexual animal within him. He pushed her roughly onto her back on the table causing her slim legs to fly up and apart. Her dress gathered loosely around her waist and he was able to descend into the black copse of hair that guarded her hidden grotto like the thorn forest surrounding the castle of sleeping beauty.

Like that fairy tale prince, he was guided to his goal by the glowing redness coming from the private place where the princess lay - a princess that he knew, would be awakened by a kiss.

And awakened she was. He had no sooner parted the hair that covered the outer lips of her silken tunnel and stroked her inner folds with his outstretched tongue, when she groaned and threw her legs about his neck to draw his whole face hard up against her moist softness. Simon sucked strongly and she squeezed her legs tightly together.

At first, only the slurping noises of wrestling wet flesh and the moans of pleasure from deep within her throat broke the ethereal silence of the room, but as she came closer to her petit mort - her 'small death', the volume of her moaning increased.

His tongue, numb now from the many minutes of deep licking, relaxed as his lips took over and surrounded the taught stub of flesh waiting impatiently at her crimson entrance.

As he rolled and sucked all three centimetres of this fleshy finger, she came with a scream of , "You baaaasssstard - bite it, Yess! - you baaassstard -ooHHHH!"

Propelled only by her shoulders and buttocks, she launched a head-on charge at his face with her pussy, intensifying an already mind-blowing orgasm. After three such charges and a lot more explicit language she relaxed, spent, onto the table and Simon slumped backwards into his chair. She lay as he had left her with her legs spread wide so that when Simon opened his eyes, the view that awaited him was that of her swollen red pussy glistening with cum and perspiration in the pale light of the moon.

It was Simon who moved first, he leaned forward to remove his shoes and socks, then stood to remove his shirt, slacks and shorts.

Diane, hearing the rustle, propped herself up on her elbows and surveyed his body.

She had expected to be excited by what she saw but felt doubly blessed as she scanned his, almost hairless, sun-tanned chest with its well-formed muscular structure.

His body wasn't one of a weight lifter, Simon did not work-out in a gym, but preferred more natural pursuits like walking, climbing and sailing. This kept his body well toned and free of any surplus fat.

Her eyes dropped lower to his penis and a lump formed in her throat. His proportions resembled those of the Cerne Giant - a huge figure carved into the hillside chalk of the rolling downs of Wiltshire and long thought to have been constructed with an exaggerated sexual appendage. However, Simon could have been its model for, reaching skyward from his narrow hips was a veritable Titan rocket that extended almost to his navel. If its length was impressive, then so was its girth and it was tipped with a bulbous head, unhindered with a foreskin. And as if to complete the picture, beneath this Olympian prick hung two golf balls in a tightly gathered scrotum.

Even though it had only been five or six minutes since hot blood had coursed through her veins, reddening her face and chest and filling her nether lips to bursting point, she felt her pulse-rate increase once again as she looked at him.

It was clear that this man now wanted his own pleasure and she shivered slightly in the warm evening air thinking how she would bring that about. One thing was certain, she would not be requiring the crumpled dress that encircled her waist so she slipped it off and flung it onto a nearby chair.

Whilst she was busy doing this, Simon had already made his mind up and had moved forward, close to the table. There he stood hands on hips, waiting for Diane to position herself on her stomach with her head overhanging the edge of the table, face to face with his monster of a cock. She reached out and caressed it with the very end of her fingernails for several seconds before encircling it with her long fingers. She mused on the fact that, even when gripped with her entire hand, the remaining length was more than she had ever accommodated and her mouth watered in anticipation.

She also noted that, as well as having generous proportions, it was also an extremely beautiful dick. It was evenly coloured - except for the glowing red end that pulsed in time with his raised heart beat, and widely covered in ridged veins that she knew would add significantly to her pleasure when it was inside her.

She lowered her head eagerly and engulfed three or four inches of his hard flesh until it's soft tip pushed against the entrance to her throat, whereupon she swallowed and consumed the remainder that protruded from her hand. She closed her mouth around it, pressed her tongue against it's wrinkled underside and sucked hard as she withdrew all of his cock from her mouth, raking its length with her rough tongue as she did. It emerged wet and shiny and she swirled her tongue around its end before swallowing it again.