Cathy Sleeps Her Way to the Top

"Your tits are so much bigger than my wife's!" Aside from a lusty giggle, Cathy ignored him. She'd gotten used to that, and could probably name most of her co-worker's wives based on their bras.

"I want you to come inside me!" Cathy groaned, "Don't worry, I'm safe!!"

She didn't need to bother with that. When she was halfway through saying it, Harrison was already halfway through exploding. And for the second time that night, Cathy took a full creampie.

Harrison slid out of her, and pretending to be overcome with spasms of joy, Cathy slumped against the wall, out of the reach of the shower's stream.

"Oh, I haven't done that since college!" Cathy lied. It was something she told every guy the first time they fucked in the shower, and no one had ever questioned it.

"I guess, uh..." Harrison fumbled for the proper etiquette, but didn't find it, "I guess you'll be wanting to get back to your room."

"Sure thing! Wouldn't want to overstay my welcome!" Cathy dried herself, and wrapped the towel back around her quickly, worried he might offer to walk her back to her room.

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Knowing Logan, Cathy decided to up her game. When she knocked on his door, she was completely naked, with only her hands covering her nipples and crotch.

"I wanted to go skinny-dipping in the hot tub!" came her hissed explanation, "but I can't find my clothes!"

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"Relax, Logan!" Cathy cooed in his ear, "I've got the implant."

And she felt Logan's warm cum swell inside her as she straddled his broad form.

"There's a good boy."

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Cathy appeared at Barry's room wearing only her lacy pink bra and panties.

"I'm sorry to wake you up," she muttered, "But I was trying to... pleasure myself, and I just can't seem to finish. I don't suppose-"

She couldn't finish, as Barry pulled her in by the arm.

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"Don't sweat it, Barry!" she glanced back as he fucked her doggy-style, "I've got some Plan B in my purse!"

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She approached Gordon's door wearing a sheer t-shirt and panties. She'd spent fifteen minutes on her balcony trying to get her nipples to do that.

"So I was in my room with Michael, but he just wasn't big enough to get the job done..."

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Cathy wrapped her arms around Gordon's neck as she straddled him in the desk chair, her warming nipples right at eye level.

"It's fine, you can come inside." She gasped as she worked his cock, "I've got the IUD."

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She came to Johanssen with a bikini top and a sheer veil around her waist.

"I'm sorry to wake you, but the thing is-"

"It's fine, you want to have sex?"

"I- yeah, sure."

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"You don't have to worry, I've had the injection."

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"Don't sweat it, I had the ring put in last month."

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"No, I want you to! Besides, I've been on the pill for years!"

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"I just think it's hot! And there's no risk, I'm wearing a Diaphragm."

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"I've, uh... I've got a vaccine next week!"

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"I'm, um... Let's see... I'm going trampolining when we get home?"

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"I'm... post-menopausal?"

He paused, mid-thrust. "How old are you again?"

"... Just turned thirty?"

"Oh, okay!" He got back to work and finished with a groan.

"Thank you, DeVos!"

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Cathy slumped into her bed after the longest shower of her life, and checked one final name off her list. There were one or two who hadn't opened up, or had, despite her best efforts, managed to find someone else to cum in the lodge, but this should be plenty.

She had consulted with every expert worth a damn, and they all agreed tonight was the best night for it. She'd been on every pill they could prescribe without losing their licenses, and she'd done the stupid exercises her swami had given her just to be on the safe side.

With a groan, she got ready for breakfast, and to spend all day pretending she had only gotten dicked down once that night.

If this didn't work, literally nothing would.

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A month later, Cathy held the fruit of her labors in her hand.

"Congratulations!" the doctor said, "Would you like to let the father know or should I?"

"I think I'll tell him in person," she sighed.

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"You're pregnant?" said Michael. His expression was pleased, but his eyes were crinkled with worry. Nevertheless, the board room exploded in a chorus of polite clapping, as they all silently added up dates in their heads. "So, who's the lucky guy?" he added conversationally.

"Oh, the father's not in the picture." Cathy said honestly. "I'm hoping to raise the baby myself. Which is actually why I asked to have this meeting."

"Oh?" Gordon worked to suppress the worry in his voice.

Cathy nodded, her tone steady, her face untroubled, "I was hoping to get a few accommodations to help me raise the baby. Beyond the normal maternity leave, I mean."

"What were you thinking?"

"Well, I'd like to work from home a few days a week."

Gordon shrugged. It was an open secret Cathy really didn't do anything important around the office anyway. "Like Fridays?"

"Monday through Friday, yes."

"Say again?"

"I was hoping to take Monday through Friday off." Her tone was as steady as ever. Nothing tipped off the executives that this was anything but the most genuine request ever.

"You'd like to make up your hours on weekends?"

"No."

When it became clear no explanation was forthcoming, Harrison took the initiative, "Anything else?"

"Well, a reduced workload, a pay raise, a company car. Oh, and I'll need Wilson's office. The one in the corner of the floor."

"Is that all?"

Not picking up on the warning tone in Michael's voice, Cathy handed over a legal pad, which Gordon casually flipped through, and with each cursory glance struggled not to say "You must be joking, you're the office whore!"

"This is..." Gordon said instead, "A very generous package. I don't think we can give you everything here."

Cathy shrugged, "Well you can hold on to it if you change your mind. I'll just have to ask the baby's father for some help."

As she left, you might have heard a pin drop, except for Cathy's heels on the hard marble floors.

"Oh, Penny?" Cathy turned to catch Penny's attention from her desk, just in front of the boardroom where the executives could all hear, "I might have some documents come in from Bergstein, Bergstein and Sloane."

"I'll bring them straight to you!"

"Oh, no I can't handle them!" Cathy said hurriedly, "Just buzz down whoever's name is on the package. The courier has to make sure the recipient gets them."

Before she left, Cathy subtly let Penny know she had a spot of something white on her cheek, which she cleaned with a bright red blush.

No one in the boardroom spoke. No one dared to break the silence. It was idiotic. Everyone knew it. Even Cathy had to know she was asking for more than even their top earners got, and she did even less work than the average executive. But no one wanted to be the one tosay it.

There couldn't be any proof, could there? There wasn't even any proof they- Shit, the credit cards! They'd all signed in with their own private cards! Still, there was no evidence she'd even gone to there rooms! There were no cameras in the halls that night, were there?

... Were there?

The smarter members of the board knew it wasn't a question of whether proof. Even the two black men on the board knew if the baby came out white as snow, if Cathy said they'd slept together that would be enough for a paternity test. Which would be enough reasonable doubt for their wives to leave them, taking everything with them in the inevitable, messy, public divorce.

It was Harrison who eventually broke the silence. His thoughts weren't with the company, they were at home, with his young, pregnant wife in his new, heavily mortgaged house, with his brand-new cherry-red convertible he'd got at 9.7% interest because the dealer said it went with his eyes. With his father-in-law three seats down, who had gotten him this job, who still called his daughter his Princess, who spent five tours in 'Nam and had shown him his collection of antique but fully functional handguns the night he married his daughter.

"Well we should at least consider it!" was what Harrison settled on, and to his shock was met by a chorus of agreement.

"Let's at least read the thing!"

"It's a sign of respect!"

"She's given us the best years of her life, after all!"

"Brightest face in the office, that's what I've always said!"

And with the feel of men being walked off in chains, the executives started at the top of Cathy's list of demands.

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"You want how much?" Catherine pulled her sunglasses down to her nose to look at the tan, dark-haired boy standing before her.

"Twenty more hours a week, ma'am."

Lucas was young, only a few months shy of 20, with a loose t-shirt hung over a thin but toned surfer's body, hands folded respectfully behind his back. There were about a thousand boys on the island like him, but only a few that could cook.

Catherine took her sunglasses off altogether, and shifted in her lawn chair by the pool, where she had been sunning her back, bikini top untied. "Why do you need so many? I thought you were focusing on culinary school."

Lucas shifted, afraid to look her in the eye, in case his gaze wandered, "I'm hoping to graduate in a few months, but I haven't been able to find a job. I have to pay rent, and tuition, and my student loans will be called..." he sighed, "I need the extra hours to get by. Just for a month or two, ma'am."

Catherine looked up at the boy and his big, earnest eyes. "Look Lucas, I wish I could give you more hours. You're a good chef. My waistline will tell you as much, but what would I do with you for those extra twenty hours? Just stand around mixing drinks? Making PB&J's for Timmy?"

Lucas sighed, hearing the response he'd been dreading. Catherine hated to let him down, and wondered if there was a way she could find a use for him. It wasn't like she was away from home that much, anyway. Work had refused her carte blanche use of the corporate jet, but that just meant they had fewer excuses to call her into the office.

The last few years Timmy had taken up most of her time, but with preschool starting up, she'd found more and more of her time free to spend on her own, working on her tan and working out. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea to have a friendly face around the house.

He really was handsome, with bronze skin and broad shoulders that women came from all around the world to rub. Or more than rub...

Glancing down at Lucas' frame, she noticed the t-shirt he was wearing. One from a volunteer trip he'd taken in highschool with the words "PAY IT FORWARD" across the chest.

An idea came to Cathy. One so simple she was baffled it hadn't occurred to her sooner.

"Lucas." She said simply, and raised her head such that her cleavage started to appear. He dutifully looked at the sky, blushing.

So fucking adorable.

"Lucas," Catherine repeated, "I just remembered a friend of mine offered to let me in on the ground floor of a trendy little beachfront place he's been wanting to open since he came here."

Catherine shifted into a sitting position, with her nipples poking just between her arms.

"I think a fresh face like yours is just what they would need in an assistant head chef."

For the first time in a while, Lucas' eyes snapped to meet Catherine's, "Do you mean that?"

Catherine nodded, and assumed a sitting position, her breasts on full display this time. Lucas, not sure where to look, flicked between Catherine's eyes and her chest.

"I just might need a little... something from you, Lucas. And the job is yours." Her voice dripped with implication.

Lucas swallowed, and tore his eyes away from her topless body.

"... You promise?"

Catherine giggled, "I promise," and undid the straps on her bottoms.

Lucas sprang into action without reservation, twaring off his shirt and shorts in two smooth motions, then positioned himself between Catherine's legs.

As she felt the young man's tongue lubricating her entrance, Catherine leaned back and muttered to herself, "It's good to be at the top!"