Dirty Pics Lead to Dirty Tricks Ch. 03

Fifty-five year old Horace Burke had been the Chief Executive Officer of Portland Enterprises for more than fifteen years. His personal business philosophy of "pay well, demand a lot and don't spare the whip" had long been the standard at Portland and it was responsible in large part for the company's success.

The organization was solid and successful with an impeccable record of innovation by a well qualified management team. That was Horace's doing. A skilled recruiter, the CEO was relentless in finding the best people and getting the most out of them. The management at Portland was extremely well paid but the high salaries came with a demanding work load that left the executives with little time for other things that might distract them from the business of business. If a desire to escape the heavy demands of the job got the best of anyone that Horace wanted to keep, the individual soon found the high salaries at Portland were like golden handcuffs. The level of compensation was simply not available from the competition. Like everyone else, the Portland executives, and especially their wives, grew accustomed to living the affluent life style and settling for less was not an acceptable option.

Horace himself wasn't nearly as impressive as the company he built. Thirty pounds overweight, sallow skinned and balding, the man looked perpetually unhealthy. In spite of that, Horace was often seen in the company of very pretty women who found the man's companionship was made more appealing by his power and his wealth. Trophy wives and fast cars were the norm among the Portland executives and Horace Burke was not above using his position to pressure a test drive of either one.

Among the female employees at the firm there were many very good looking women who were always on the lookout for an opportunity to make someone in management happy if that wasn't happening at home. Divorce, being a costly waste of assets for both parties, wasn't very common, so the slap and tickle of extra-marital sex was the order of the day. Like so many other things in the "grass is greener" kind of philosophy, attractive married women in the company who didn't fool around were often the most sought after. They were in a special trophy category all of their own. Getting into their pants brought the kind of group approbation from fellow executives that fed a competitive spirit.

One of the most popular challenges among the married women at Portland was Madison Clarke, the newly appointed department head in accounting. At twenty-eight, Madison still had the youthful good looks that turned heads and the maturity of figure that allowed for an appealing fullness to her breasts and behind. Married with no kids and a successful husband, she could afford to dress well, drive a nice car and not be overly impressed by the come-ons of the executive corps. Curiously, that brought as much resentment from the women who were sexually active as it did from the guys who wished she would be.

It wasn't as if Madison didn't like sex. She was just getting enough at home from a good looking spouse who she loved a lot. Peter was an imaginative lover who knew how to tap into Madison's darker side. While they were monogamous, they each enjoyed delving into the kinkier side of sex to keep their relationship fresh and edgy, albeit private.

It was seven thirty when Horace pulled into his reserved parking space, a full ninety minutes before most of the staff would arrive to start work. He was not surprised to see Madison Clark's silver Lexus already there. Madison was a hard worker and Horace liked that. He liked it almost as much as he liked watching her ass flex in a pencil skirt as she walked around her department. He might have made getting a piece of that a requirement to the promotion she'd just received, but she was just principled enough that she might have quit. Horace didn't want that.

The elevator chimed its arrival on twelve and Horace stopped in at the coffee room for his morning fix. He was just in time to see Madison pouring her own coffee and he felt the familiar rush in his belly when she turned to say "Good morning Mr. Burke."

"Good Morning," he said curtly, maintaining the aloof distance that he felt appropriate. While his manner remained cool, his eyes were quick to take in the pretty woman's cleavage and to check for clues to the type of undergarments she might be wearing. Her blatantly braless appearance in the conference room on Friday was an unexpected treat that had surprised everyone. Whatever brought that on, Horace approved of it. He took another long look at what he considered the nicest set of tits in the building before reestablishing eye contact with the blushing woman.

"You're in early," he observed.

"Yes. I find I get more done before the phone starts to ring."

"Good. Yes. That's good," he responded, letting his eyes drop to her waist to appreciate the way her skirt pulled snugly across her flat belly. He liked the little hollows that it left in front of her hip bones and he found himself wondering what kind of panties she wore. He watched as she turned and put cream and sugar into her cup, giving him the opportunity to check for a panty line in the smooth fabric of her skirt. She turned back to him and he knew she'd caught him checking her out. Instead of looking away, he continued to boldly admire her. He could see that it made her feel uncomfortable and he liked that.

"Would you like milk with that?" she asked indicating the cup of steaming coffee he was holding.

He smiled and purposefully dropped his eyes to her neckline once more to be sure she'd get the double entendre. "Yes. That would be lovely."

"I wanted to thank you for supporting my promotion, Mr. Burke," she stammered, trying to change the subject. Her hand self-consciously fluttered up cover the v-neck of her blouse where his eyes were once again resting.

"It was my pleasure," he snickered, amused at her nervousness. "I think you could have quite a future at Portland. I'd like to spend some time with you and get a feeling for everything you have to offer.

"I'd like to do that sometime," she replied politely, blushing again at his blatant flirting and the deliberate emphasis he had placed on "everything".

"Well how about right now?" he pressed. "I'm on my way out to the plant in a few minutes. You can tag along and get a sense of what this company can do for you.

Moments later Madison was settling onto the leather passenger seat in his Escalade. She felt awkward climbing in with her short skirt and felt uncomfortably certain Burke had been treated to more than an eyeful.

The ride to the plant was tense for her. Only a blind person would have been unaware of the man's preoccupation with her legs. His eyes seemed to undress her as they flicked from the road to the expanse of creamy thigh and back with a regularity that was hard to miss. His conversation drifted easily from purely business to quite personal and she found herself answering questions that he clearly had no right to ask.

"So. How long have you been married?" he asked.

"Seven years. Going on eight," she replied.

"Hmmm. And what's that they say about seven? Isn't that the beginning of 'the itch?'" he chuckled playfully.

"That's what they say," she agreed with a hesitancy that implied that it didn't apply to her.

"Oh c'mon. Don't tell me an attractive woman like you hasn't had thoughts!" he laughed at her teasingly.

"No. Never," she maintained.

"Well your husband is a lucky man. Either that or he satisfies you unbelievably."

"What could be unbelievable about that?" she challenged, and then immediately wished she hadn't.

"Repetition. Routine. Same old, same old," he answered. "Every marriage has that rust that creeps in and eventually takes the excitement out of sex."

"Well that hasn't happened to us," Madison assured him a little too confidently.

"And to what do you attribute that?" he teased. "What does he do that's different? If it isn't same old same old, what does he do?"

No immediate answer came to mind. She was rattled by the inappropriateness of their conversation and that was making it difficult to think. Had it been anyone else she would have ended it with a scathing comment. But, the CEO was not someone to alienate, though there was no doubt that he was out of line the way he was coming on to her. For a moment it occurred to Madison that the mess she was in with Jane had something to do with it. The timing seemed so coincident. Or was it?

"Maybe it isn't what he does," Burke continued, "but what he does it with? Does wonder boy have more than his share down there?"

"That's just men and their preoccupation with size," the young wife blurted, trying to be conversational with an air of detachment that didn't come off.

"Size is never enough on its own," he conceded. "Variety is much more important. That's why so many married women take lovers," Burke announced as if he was an authority.

"Really?" Madison mused. "You think that's the reason?"

"Not the only reason, to be sure," the CEO continued. "Often it's for the advantages a lover can give to a married woman as much as for what he physically brings to bed with them."

Madison was stunned by the turn in conversation. Burke's reference was obviously what he could do for her in return for sex. The whole idea of trading her body for favors appalled and offended her. But wasn't what she had done with Jane and Jeremy the same? She had convinced herself that it was a question of survival but she knew that Jane would continue to push the envelope until her career and life with Peter were ruined. She needed a powerful friend to fight Jane Reynolds and there was none more powerful than Horace Burke. Whatever the price, she needed Burke's help.

The intrusion of Jane's name into her thoughts at that moment was like a cold slap of reality. Burke was explaining how they could 'be important' to one another but Madison was already way ahead of him. Rather than being a reluctant sexual toy for the amusement of her blackmailers, an intimate relationship with Burke had a powerful upside. If she had to spread her legs for someone, it might as well be for someone who could help her.

Madison had turned sideways in the seat and no longer seemed preoccupied with keeping her tight red skirt from riding up on her thighs. Rather than being annoyed with her boss's ogling she seemed to be inviting it. "I suppose, really, that most women do have such feelings," she mused. "As happily married as I am, there are still other attractive factors that can enter into relationships."

Burke had stopped talking, pleased and a bit surprised with the turn in Madison's conversation. Her body language had softened and the defensiveness had left her. His eyes dropped to her lap and he enjoyed a lingering look at her lovely legs.

"There are times when even a happily married woman has naughty thoughts," she laughed as if the admission released some of the tension.

"Like what?" Burke laughed along with her. "What are some of your naughty thoughts?"

"Hmmm. Other men. What it would be like. That sort of thing."

"A little variety?" he suggested. "A strange cock to play with?"

Her laugh was nervous now, and a lot of the confidence had left her voice. "Just the forbidden aspect of it is exciting sometimes. It's like when someone is looking at you in that way and you let him see you but pretend you aren't aware." She shifted in the seat again as if trying to find comfort. Her skirt twisted with the movement and he caught a glimpse of panty as she stretched.

"Like when you showed up in the boardroom the other day?" he asked. "You knew we were all looking at but you pretended not to be aware?"

"More than that," her laughter tinkled with a mixture of excitement and tension.

"Were you intentionally teasing?"

"I was hoping to get your attention," she whispered, letting her hand rest on her boss's thigh.

"You got everyone's attention. Your tits had never looked more ripe or more inviting. I guess the way it went down it was Jane we should be thanking."

Madison's frown was instant and inadvertent but Burke picked up on it immediately.

"Hmm. Do I detect a little animosity between you and Jane?" he grinned, enjoying having uncovered a bit of the office infighting.

Madison was quick to downplay his perception. Too quick as it turned out.

"We were a little suspicious when we saw you turn up when we clearly asked for Jane to be there. Then when we saw you were so obviously not wearing a bra, we thought we were the benefactors of a little cattiness between our female managers."

Again Madison tried to deflect discussion away from Jane. "Oh, we get along alright. We're not close but we each just do our jobs."

"So you're saying there is no substance to the speculation that Jane had set you up? That she'd seen you weren't wearing a bra and for whatever reason wanted to embarrass you?" He was laughing and Madison couldn't decide whether he was joking or just flat out didn't believe her.

We're not friends Mr. Burke, she countered evenly. Sometimes our responsibilities collide and that could cause stress." The answer seemed plausible when she said it and she hoped that would end his interrogation.

"Since you're the queen bee in accounting, I'm assuming that these collisions as you put it are money related?"

"Sometimes," Madison hedged.

"I'm glad you're on top of such things," he said, suddenly dead serious. "Do you always have access to all of the information you need in these matters?"

Madison took a deep breath, carefully considering her words. "Not always, and sometimes there is concern that requesting certain access could cause relevant material to disappear."

"Exactly!" boomed Burke, certain that he was hot on the trail of malfeasance in his precious company. "Where do you need discreet access that you don't currently have it?"

Madison fought to keep her voice calm as she made her request. "I need access to the computer on Jane's desk, without her knowing."

"Leave that with me," Burke proclaimed, pleased to show his unchallengeable authority.

The matter being settled for the moment, he turned back to Madison letting his gaze once again fall on her bosom. "Surely you aren't going to tell me that your appearing braless the other day was entirely Jane's doing are you? There must have been a reason why you weren't wearing one. What was going on with you? I didn't hear anyone declare Fridays 'tits free day' at the office..."

Madison lowered her eyes demurely. The prospect of getting her hands on Jane's files had her excited but she wanted to make sure that Burke would be securely on her side. "I was just feeling a bit unappreciated. I wanted to do something bold to let people know I'm not just a boring little accountant."

Burke beamed at her answer. He hovered over her solicitously and gave her a peck on the cheek. His closeness was disconcerting but, instinctively, she knew what she had to do. Laying her head on his chest, she let her fingers squeeze his thigh and edge along his pant leg until her knuckles nudged his stiffening penis. "At least I know you aren't bored," she giggled suggestively, tracing the outline of his cock with her fingers.

The older man wheezed heavily and slid to the edge of the seat giving her greater access to his groin. She found the tab on his zipper and tugged it down. "Mmm, Mr. Burke," she whispered demurely as her hand found his damp flesh. "I hope you won't think I'm a tramp."

The CEO's reassuring answer was all she needed. With that, Madison dropped her head into his lap and licked along the length of his shaft. Burke's hands caressed the back of her head and she heard him mutter "what a sweet little cocksucker you are...," as he pushed into her mouth. For several minutes Madison worked on his rubbery cock. Used to the steel of Peter's erection, she was surprised that Burke never seemed to get fully hard. His cock was noticeably smaller than her husband's and the taste was mildly bitter. Several times she had to swallow her pride and remind herself of why she was doing this.

Burke lay back against the seat and watched Madison's head bobbing in his lap. She had him thinking with his little head and he was too shrewd not to recognize it. He was used to women flirting with his power, offering sex for favors. But Madison was an unexpected wet dream come true for him. He had often felt rebuffed by the aloof, untouchable image she projected around the office. None of that was in evidence now as he took liberties under her skirt and she played with his cock.

Instinctively, he knew there was more to her need to get into Jane's computer than she was telling. If she was willing to suck him off to get access she'd do a lot more once he knew the whole story. A simple blow job and a finger fuck wasn't going to do it after today. She had a lot to make up for. A little humiliation would look good on the snooty little bitch. With that thought his balls began to tighten. Madison felt Burke's hands pressing down on the back of her head holding her firmly in place. She knew not to object.

Even knowing what to expect, the first jet of his seed revolted her. The taste was bitter and although the quantity was far less than she was used to with Peter, it seemed to coat her tongue and teeth in a vile cream. This was not her handsome healthy husband sharing a loving act. It was a dirty old man getting a blow job from a desperate unfaithful wife.

"Don't get any on my pants," he admonished as Madison forced herself to keep from pulling away in disgust.

She wanted to sit up them and clean herself up but Burke wanted to play. "Your husband is a lucky man," he chortled as he cupped her sex in a pudgy hand. The little virgin in accounting is not so prudish after all, he thought smugly.

Madison shuddered at Burke's mention of her husband. She did not want to be reminded that she was betraying the man she loved.

"You suck great cock," he complimented.

"Thank you, Mr. Burke" she whispered, ashamed.

"You've obviously had lots of practice."

"Not so much," she demurred, not wanting to appear any more sluttish than necessary.

"How many?" he pressed. "Fifty? Twenty-five? I think you've had a lot of cock in that pretty little mouth."

Madison was getting distressed. She wanted this remembered as an intimate favor not a tell-all of her sexual history.

"A nice girl doesn't tell," she whispered.

His fingers traced over the butterfly tattoo and he said pointedly. "Yeah. But you're not a nice girl are you Madison."

He snickered when she feigned shock and protested, but they both knew he was right.

To be continued...