tagNovels and NovellasFull Circle Ch. 03

Full Circle Ch. 03


"Mr. Walsh would like you to join him in his office," Darla's syrupy voice called from the speakerphone.

"I'll be right in."

I made a stop in the men's room in route. Blue tie, white shirt, my look was appropriate but not overly stylish. I rebuked Danna's suggestion and went with what I would normally wear because this was a normal day. I didn't want to let on that I was tipped off in any way that I was going to be named the new vice president of the west coast market. I ran cold water into my palms then spread it into the stray strands of hair on the sides and back of my head. I scrutinized the gray that flecked my black hair.

"Thrity-two and graying. About damn time you get what you've deserved for once," I said to my reflection.

Mr. Walsh would think this announcement would be news to me so I practiced a few confident yet surprised expressions in the mirror then strode toward his office, which was at the junction of the north and west sides of the building. He'd wisely chosen to have floor to ceiling windows on each of the walls. They gave him a spectacular panoramic view of downtown and the sparkling bay. Martin's office was next door on the west side of the building. An office with a view was a perk I hadn't even considered. Being able to look out the window and see a sunset would ease the strain when working long days.

"Go right in," Darla said when she saw me round the corner.

The door was ajar. I could see Mr. Walsh standing at the window with his back to me. I knocked.

"Come in. Have a seat."

I did so and caught myself staring out the windows, thinking about how I would layout my office. It would be a big contrast to Mr. Walsh's modern decor, but with a little effort I could make it a place I didn't mind going into each day.

"I'll get right to it, Paul."


"Martin has left the company. It's a rough time in that market and that's why we had to move quickly to fill that gap in personnel."

"I completely understand, sir." I straightened my back.

"The person we need has to not only know the market, but be extremely talented, motivated and progressive."

I felt my chest puff out a little. I held in my jubilation because I was ready to jump up, shake Mr. Walsh's and thank him profusely when he said, "That's why I've chosen Marissa Lawrence to take the helm as vice president of the west coast market. You remember Marissa don't you, Paul?"

Marissa walked into my peripheral vision. I was too focused on being dubbed the newest savior of this firm that I hadn't noticed her. She must have been sitting in the room the whole time.

"It's going to be a pleasure working with you again, Paul."

I looked from Mr. Walsh to Marissa.

"Marissa Lawrence," I repeated slowly. I caught hold of my emotions before disbelief registered on my face.

"I wanted you to be the first to know Paul because you'll be working very closely with Marissa through this transition."

"Yes. Of course." I set myself on auto pilot while Walsh and Marissa prattled on about planning meetings, productivity reports and cash flow projections.

Son of a bitch, I raged inside.

"It's good to be working with you again, Marissa and...congratulations." I managed to say it without sneering. I bypassed her outstretched hand and patted her firmly on the shoulder. Marissa stepped forward to catch her balance.

"Thank you Paul," Marissa said with a smile that was as dazzling as always. There was a glint in her eyes, one I hadn't ever seen before. If Walsh hadn't been in the room with us I would have questioned her point blank about what the fuck she thought she was doing.

"Now, if you'll excuse me I'll get started on some these plans."

I had almost made it to the door when Marissa called after me.

"Paul. I've already got a list of topics we'll need to cover in order to make this a smooth transition. Let's do lunch and discuss it."

I looked up and Walsh was still in earshot. I clinched the change in my pocket. I felt the grooved edges of dimes and quarters imprint into my palm. I managed an even toned response. "Will do." I walked briskly out of the office.

I crossed paths with Finn Rush on the way to the elevator. He looked none too pleased. Had I not been the one to get fucked over right along with him, I would have taken pleasure in rubbing his humpty dumpty nose right in this corporate snub.

I jabbed the down button for the elevator and paced the floor while I waited. Marissa Lawrence. "That bitch!" I hissed out loud. She surely succeeded in spinning me up this time. I couldn't keep myself from visualizing her having my champagne toast in my west office as she accepted my job. "Bitch!" I barked into the face of a woman who happened to be standing directly in front of me when the elevator doors finally opened.

"Sorry. Not you."

The woman shot me a look and gave me a wide berth when I entered the elevator. In my pocket my PDA went off. It was Danna messaging me with, "So? How did it go?"

I responded with, "I didn't get it. I want to be alone tonight," then shut it off. On the ride down to the lower floors the realization hit me that along with Marissa becoming the new vice president she also became my boss. The elevator descended down to the lower floors. My stomach went down with it.

* * *

The following Thursday morning a meeting request appeared in my email box. The subject was "Market Transitions and Tolerance Modules." The location was The Lotus. The sender was Marissa Lawrence. My pointer hovered over "Decline" for the briefest of seconds. I reasoned that this wasn't the way to handle this. She'd likely tell Walsh that I was being uncooperative and then where would I be? I clicked "Accept."

A hunger for answers overpowered my hunger for The Lotus's soba noodles. I was motivated to arrive at The Lotus promptly. I sat waiting in the mahogany lacquered foyer of The Lotus for what felt like an hour before Marissa literally blew in. A gust of wind burst in behind her when she entered the foyer. Curled tresses of her hair danced out from her head like the serpent heads of Medusa.

"Whoa," she said. The door shut behind her with a bang and her wild mane was instantly tamed. Had it not, I would have gladly severed her head to help the cause.

A hostess dressed in a blue silk kimono greeted us with a heavily accented, demure voice, "I'm Mayuko. This way please."

She led Marissa and me down the narrow corridor between the tatami rooms. Mayuko showed us ours by pulling back a sliding door and bowing in wait for us to enter. Marissa and I slipped out of our shoes. The woven floor covering caused our footsteps to make soft woosh-woosh-woosh sounds as we made our way to the rectangular chabudai table. Marissa selected the magenta colored zabuton pillow to sit upon. I opted for the one directly across from her. The hostess's delicate gait made her appear to float to our table on the rippling blue current of her kimono. The embroidered stork on the front tilted its head this way and that with each step. Mayuko's face was porcelain white like a new cherry blossom and her lips were pale pink. Her black hair gleamed. It was combed off her face and secured into a tight complicated knot on her head. As she poured our tea, I watched her closely, tantalized by her graceful movements. She held the sleeve of her kimono in such a way that it didn't brush any other object on the table. Her movements revealed a thumb's width of pale white skin on her wrist. My eyes moved up her arm to her equally pale neck. I was suddenly struck by the fascination old school Japanese men held for their geisha as my mind worked overtime to fill in the gaps in what I couldn't see. The unknown was powerful. Nothing was more erotic than what you could imagine. I watched her arm stretch further to pour tea into Marissa's cup. More skin of her arm was revealed to me. I saw faded black lines farther up her wrist that said to me they were the outlines of a tattoo. I couldn't imagine a geisha in Kyoto blemishing her delicate skin with a tattoo. Her spell on me was broken.

Upon finishing Mayuko bowed and exited silently. When the door closed behind the hostess Marissa spoke.

"I never lied."

That being said, I was surprise we were in the position we were in. She was going to explain herself now, but started with an issue that was the least of my concerns. I responded anyway.

"I would consider omission a lie Marissa."

"If I told you why I was back I knew you wouldn't have lunch with me. Let alone --

"Fuck you?"

Marissa sipped her tea. Her demeanor was too cool for my taste. I thought back to the panties in her bag.

"Well, you've certainly fucked me. Twice. I feel like I owe you one."

"Promise?" Her lip curled into a smirk.

My heart and head were raging with anger at her premeditated nature. Despite the rage that was building in my heart my loins were stoked by the simple implication that we'd fuck.

I owe you the grudge fuck of your life, I thought to myself, but said, "No doubt. Now, Marissa, you owe me answers."

She smiled at this then opened her mouth to speak.

"And I don't mean bullshit. The truth."


Our waitress breezed in and took our orders. Marissa ordered some chicken dish I couldn't stand and I opted for California rolls and soba noodles. The waitress exited silently.

"Of all the reasons to come back you come back to take my job?"

"Your job? Paul, really?"

My eyes bore into her like lasers.

"I see why you might think that, but --"

"You were under me the last time you worked for this firm."

"Walsh knows that. He was brought in eight months after I left. What he certainly doesn't know is how often I was under you."

"Our affair was a mistake." I never thought I would say it. Even in the months after Marissa left when I was hurting like no other time in my life. I didn't regret our time together. Here and now, having her use it against me made me want to take every sweaty, decadent moment back. "I should have kept our relationship professional. My mistake."

I looked at Marissa. For a split second I saw her cool expression crack before she looked down into her hot tea.

"You were supposed to be my mentor, Paul."

"There were times we did more than just fuck, Marissa, so don't go giving me some shit story like I took advantage of you."

She continued on as if I hadn't said anything.

"I was supposed to be growing professionally, being groomed for your position but our relationship," she said the word like it was poison in her mouth, "got in the way. You got promoted, that crackpot Kenny got your old job and I got left behind. That's why I left."

I felt the dagger in my back turn. "You are un-fucking-believable. You knew full well I didn't have the pull to bump you up." My mind pulled out the file way back in my mind of Marissa walking out my life and I felt a new dagger in my heart. "All this time you made me think that you left because of something between us."

"That was between us. You knew I deserved to be at the next level."

I was dumbstruck for a moment. I couldn't believe that I was going to have to explain to Marissa the difference between our office relationship and our private relationship. Surely she knew the difference, but looking into her stone cold face now, it was obvious she didn't.

"So now you are here to prove it?" I said.

"Aren't I proving it?" Her cool, haughty tone returned. Looking at her self-satisfied smirk made me want to reach across the table and shake her.

"In three years, I've managed to not only make up the ground I lost in the industry working with you but I've successfully landed a position with the prestige and compensation I deserve."

I had to laugh. "Excuse me, but that is funny. Deserve?"

She continued.

"And when I glanced at the organization chart this makes me your boss."

"Like hell!"

"It's a good thing we already have a rapport with each other." She raised her tea cup to me in a toast.

"Oh no. If you think I'm going to roll over and take this you got another thing comin'."

I gripped the edge of the table. I felt so angry I wanted to flip it over on top of her.

"Don't hurt my feelings like this Paul. You're making it sound like you don't want to work with me. We'll be a team. It'll be like old times." She reached across the table to take my hand. I snatched it away. "We'll be working very closely with one another. Late evenings. Extended lunches. All under the guise that we'll be bringing the west coast division out of the shambles it's in now."

Marissa looked around at the white papered walls set inside deep stained wood frames then rose to her feet. "You used to like coming here to The Lotus. Didn't you point out that these tables were the perfect height so that when I sat on it, spread open for you, it would give you the best penetration?"

She walked to my side of the table and stood close to me. Her upper thigh pressed against my shoulder. I shook my head.

"Don't be so uptight, Paul. You seem to be taking this so personal." Her finger tickled my hairline. "I know I still get to you." Marissa lowered herself to crouch down beside me. "If fucking you in your car told me anything it's that we may have even gotten better. You came so hard," she whispered in my ear. Her lips were so close to my face that each word she spoke was a kiss. "I had cum dripping down my leg on the way up to my room." Her hand tugged on my tie. I wanted it to be my cock.

That perfume warmed by her skin drifted up to me. I knew she dotted it on the tops of her breasts, up her throat and behind her ears. I wanted to visit those fragrant spaces with my mouth. She was right. She did still get to me. Despite how wretched I thought she was she had me wanting her again.

I looked her up and down. I briefly wondered about the lingerie she was wearing and knew that I could take note of the ensemble later. She wanted it. And I was going to give it to her. I pushed the place setting out of the way. Tea splashed into puddles on the table top.

Marissa sat down. The table creaked in protest but it held under her weight. She reached under the hem of her skirt while I rose to my knees to unfasten my trousers. Marissa let her panties dangle around one ankle, propped her heels on the edge of the table then leaned back.

I was hard in an instant from seeing that wanton pose. Her cool, mocking expression was replaced with carnal attention. She watched me guide my full head over her deliciously soft pussy lips. I applied pressure and parted them. The head of my cock received a wet welcome. My balls tightened with the urge to blast her with their contents. I closed my eyes and thought about rats running in the restaurant's kitchen and chicken carcasses hanging in rows, waiting to become our lunch, until I was steady enough to feed her hungry cunt with my shaft.

The sliding door opened. Marissa and I both looked to see a crimson faced waitress cast her eyes down and mutter something in Japanese before she slammed the door shut.

Marissa's smile was lazy like she was drunk on our lust. Her head fell back. The buttons on her blouse strained to remain closed. I licked her along the succulent line of her throat and continued down into the v-ed opening of her blouse all the while I entered her deeply, rocking the plates and saucers on the table top. Soon Marissa's moans joined the musical clink-clink-clink.

"These walls are paper thin Marissa," I said into her throat. "Let them hear you."

Marissa lifted her chest and wrapped her arms around my neck.

"Come on. Sing for them."

I imagined Mayuko and the waitress standing outside of the room, listening, shy at first but growing curious. Their blushes would burn their checks and color other parts of their body. Perhaps the sounds of our fucking were penetrating the crape like wall coverings and drifting to other tables, interrupting business discussions or even inspiring other couples to finish their lunches sooner in order to leave and start some hot action of their own.

I gripped her hips. My fingertips dug into her skin and I rooted myself into her. "Let them know what a fucking slut you are Marissa." Her breath caught in her throat as I penetrated her past the point that was comfortable for her. I withdrew only a tiny bit before filling her again. I pulled Marissa into my lap and used her weight to aid my intention to fill her thoroughly. Once I did she sang a chorus of gasps, oh's and ah's. There could be no mistaking what the commotion coming from our room was now.

"My God!"

I brought my hands up to her mouth. She sucked my middle and index finger. Watching her made me want to have three cocks to fill her slutty holes. The thought drove me to fuck her harder. My thumb pressed into her lips and across her cheek, leaving a dark smudge of lipstick behind, then I used the two fingers she moistened with her mouth to caress her asshole.

"Uh-huh. Uh-huh." Marissa nodded.

I applied pressure to her asshole. In response, Marissa's pussy clamped down on me like a vice. My legs began to cramp from the position we were in. "Turn around. Bend over the table."

Without hesitation Marissa leaned against the table. She tugged her skirt up over her slim hips. I braced myself with her shoulders. I felt a sense of urgency to finish. To hell with Marissa's pleasure, I thought. Pleasure wasn't what I owed her. I took hold of Marissa's dark hair at the nape of her neck and pulled back until she called out. For what felt like ten minutes I drove my shaft as deep and as hard as I could deliver. The full force of my body was behind every stroke. I rattled the dishes off the table. Marissa was a whimpering mess when I stood up and aimed my load at her backside. The first gushes missed their mark and landed in her hair and along the back of her blouse and skirt. The last few were bull's eyes. My body was convulsing and pleasantly numb for several seconds. I reached for a napkin from the table and wiped up.

Marissa cleared her throat. "Tell me we're not done. And that's we meaning me." She rubbed her fingers between her legs then sampled them.

The moment I had my cock and shirt tails tucked in, the door flung open and in burst a short Japanese man with a very shiny and very angry face. Mayuko and the waitress were gathered behind him. Their faces were red with laughter.

"I demand you leave. Never patronize my restaurant again!"

I looked from the angry manager to Marissa who had smoothed down her skirt and was tending to the freshly gelled strands of hair.

"No problem," I said, "I wasn't hungry anyway."

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