Inventory

"Hi, Burt. Do you have a moment?" she asked shyly.

Scowling, Burt rudely said, "What do you want?"

"Burt, I was wondering if you could help me. I have a problem with a prospect and need someone experienced," she asked contritely.

Continuing to scowl, he motioned for her to enter.

"Who's the prospect?" he growled.

"Windslow," she said.

"Oh shit. Are you working on that one? I never got past that dyke Beverly," he spat out.

"Let me show you," she said, coming around his desk beside him and opening the folder.

Wide-eyed, he looked at her incredulously, saying, "You got to Ashford?"

"Yes, but I am so inexperienced. I'm just a scatterbrained college student in his mind. I really think he could be reeled in, but I just don't have the experience. Do you think you could help me? I'm just a trainee," she wined, a crocodile tear running down her cheek.

Burt was not interested in helping her, but if the prospect could be landed, it would do the company a lot of good, and he thought it would help his situation a little.

"I have a meeting set up at ten tomorrow. Can you help," Janet blubbered.

"Sure, Janet, sure," he said.

They spent the rest of the day planning for the meeting, only interrupted by Janet's mandatory inventory-taking. Burt wouldn't admit it, but her plan, info, and completeness stunned him, being as good as anything any of the associates could do.

They both headed out to catch a taxi to the Windslow account at nine. When Burt showed up with Janet, things changed with Ashford. Two hours later, Burt and Janet left the office with the ink still wet on a five-million-dollar account.

"Thank you, Burt. Thank you so much," Janet said, squealing on the sidewalk and hugging Burt.

She suggestively rubbed her tits on his chest, but she got no spark. Janet didn't think she would. Burt had a wife suffering from breast cancer, and only a slime bag would cheat on a sick wife, but she needed to know for sure. She would have fucked Burt if that is what it would take, or Ashford, for that matter. To Janet, everything was fair and fair game in getting ahead.

Janet told Burt at the office door, "I'll take these papers into Lambert and tell him what happened."

With that, Janet bounded away to Lambert's office. Still a little high on their success but wishing he had made the prospect, Burt went to his office.

Lambert's door opened shortly, and he bellowed, "All of you get out here?"

This bellicose uproar was very unusual. Lambert was a mild-mannered and low-key type. He didn't yell, but he didn't do hoorahs either. So, they all scrambled out to see what was going on.

Once assembled, Lambert said, "Burt, come here."

Burt scowled and stepped forward.

"I want you all to hear about this. Rather than be a selfish prick like most of you are. Burt, unbeknownst to me, took Janet under his wing and showed her the ropes by letting her help him land the biggest account this department has ever gotten, the Windslow account," he bragged to the awed look of everyone.

"But...," Burt began.

"Janet, anticipating this, leaped forward, saying, "Thanks, Burt," and hugged him.

"Your commission on this, Burt, will be half a million dollars. Upper management has authorized an award of fifty thousand dollars to Janet. Now, this is what I want to see more of. I want us to work together, not against each other. That's it. Get back to work," Lambert said, finishing.

After returning from taking inventory, Burt cornered Janet.

"Why the fuck did you do that?" he said, his suspicions on red alert.

"What do you mean?" the bubbly, no-brained, just-out-of-college Janet replied.

Grabbing her upper arm, he pinned her against the wall, saying, "You know what I mean."

Janet's face glowered, looking at his hand on her arm, and she snarled, "Take your fucking mitt off me."

Surprised by her change from bubbly to demonic, he released her and stepped back.

"You were in trouble because of my success," she growled. "If I got all the credit for the Windslow account, you would be gone. If you got bounced, the other associates would blame me, not you. By helping you, I helped myself, but you owe me big time. Even though I am a trainee, I would have gotten more from the Windslow account than a measly fifty grand."

"You want money?" Burt snapped.

"No, Sweetie. What I want are future favors. Maybe not this week. Maybe not this year, but sometimes I'll need a favor or two. I expect you to help me then," she sneered.

Burt scowled, panting.

"Oh, Sweetie. It's not as bad as you think. Maybe I will need advice or help or a suggestion of a hot prospect. I want to know you have my back, OK?" she smiled, running her finger down over his lips and walking away, chuckling.

The fifty grand was a nice spruce up for her bank account, but Janet didn't look for another apartment. All she did was sleep, eat, and fuck there. It had everything she needed: a bed, stove, closet, and shower.

After the Windslow account, the associates started to come to her. She knew Burt had blabbed to them about her, but the main goal of every one of them was to get rich enough to say fuck the wonderful corporate world. Janet's goal was to get rich and rise in that corporate world to become rich and powerful. She wasn't looking for Lambert's job. She wanted a VP or Board job. Ambition was Janet's middle name.

The following Monday, when she went to take inventory, Mr. Monday Cock made her cum hard, but when he finished, he didn't release her legs. Then another cock entered her and pounded the fuck out of her, and then another and another until she had been fucked by five cocks. She only worried that it took almost an hour and she had to hurry back.

"What's up with the inventory? You usually are back far sooner than this," Lambert huffed.

"They increased the amount of stuff I have to inventory by five times, Oscar. I'm sorry. I will try to do better," she replied, one of those crocodile tears flowing down her cheek.

"Is the sheet different?" Lambert demanded.

Janet just handed it to Lambert. Sure enough, there were a lot more items on paper.

"OK, don't worry about it," he said, not apologizing.

"Thanks, Oscar," she replied, turned, and rolled her eyes.

It was good he understood because five cocks impaled her every day from then on.

As the weeks passed, Helen went out alone and was about as happy as Janet had ever seen her. Her weight was way down, and her clothes were fashionable, even sexy. From the retelling of her adventures, Helen didn't require more sex.

Finally, one day at lunch, Helen whispered to Janet, "You know Oscar's wife left him."

"No," Janet exclaimed in fake surprise.

Janet knew this several weeks prior. Lambert rarely showed emotion at work, so it was evident that he wasn't emotional at home. She had met his wife, and she was a suspicious bitch who claimed everyone was fucking Oscar. One of Janet's HR bitches she kept on the hook to get information had leaked it to Janet amid orgasms she had while Janet licked her pussy.

"So, you are his best friend and confidant at work. You should help him and encourage him, maybe take him to lunch," Janet suggested.

Helen's eyes bugged out.

"I've worked for Oscar for five years," Helen replied, a dreamy look in her eye.

"Exactly, you have been with him more than his wife. You know him and his needs. A good friend tries to help a friend," Janet said, smirking.

"I...I...never thought of that," Helen replied thoughtfully.

Sure enough, the next day, Helen took Oscar to lunch. Unsurprisingly, they both disappeared from the office at lunch the next day and the next. On the following Monday, Helen rushed over to Janet, trembling.

"I went on a date with Oscar on Saturday. Am I a worthless slut?" she said, crying.

"Oh, Sweetie, no. Tell me all about it," Janet cooed, pulling her under her arm and leading her to the privacy of a conference room. "Why would you say that? All you did was go on a date, right?" Janet probed.

"Well...," Helen began with a long, long pause. "No, we didn't just go on a date," she confessed. "He, sort of, put his hand in my blouse," Helen started slowly. Then, in a stream of confession similar to a machine gun, she wailed, "And then in my panties, and then I was naked, and he was naked, and he put his penis in me, and we made love," she finished crying.

"Was it good," Janet answered matter-of-factly.

"Good?" Helen asked, stunned.

"Was the sex good? Was it a good fuck?" Janet asked, somewhat frustrated.

"Why yes," Helen replied.

"Great, then what the fuck are you crying about?" Janet asked, no longer the bubbly, scatterbrained, just-out-of-college girl.

Helen had never seen this side of Janet and was confused.

"He's lonely, you're lonely. You went out on a date, had a good time, and ended the night with the best of all nightcaps, a good fuck. What is there to cry about?" Janet replied, not hiding her exasperation.

"But technically, he is a married man," Helen sniffled.

"Was his wife there? Was his wife taking care of his needs? Did you force him? Did you blackmail him? Did you...," Janet said, interrupted by Helen.

"No! Of course not," Helen whined."

"Then stop with the mommy-repressed shit. You are an adult, and he is an adult. You fucked. People do. Get over it. Use it," Janet said, throwing up her hands and leaving Helen sniffling.

Later, Janet dropped some papers off with Helen to give to Oscar. Helen looked at Janet sheepishly.

Grabbing a handful of Helen's hair, Janet drew her into a kiss. Janet released the wide-eyed Helen and said, "Go into Oscar's office, lock the door, and fuck his brains out."

Trembling, Helen nodded, rose, and entered Lambert's office. By Janet's reconning, Helen had not returned to her desk for an hour, looking somewhat disheveled and red in the face and chest.

Janet had surpassed half the associates by now, and they were unhappy. She didn't care. They had never been helpful to her anyway. Burt screwed her by reneging on the favors he owed. Janet had half expected it anyway, and unfortunately for Burt, he fell behind again. This time, Janet, on her own, landed a prospect recently released to the general spreadsheet from Burt's list. It wasn't worth as much as the Windslow account, but it was formidable. When she landed it, Burt was so low on the ranking list that he had to look up to see the bottom. Janet chuckled as security and Lambert stood at Burt's desk as he came in, made him clear his office, and escorted him to the door. Janet made it a point to ensure Burt saw her openly chuckling as he went by.

At this point, management, being very happy with her progress, awarded her the full associate before Thanksgiving. By Christmas, she had landed two more large prospects and surpassed all but Dillan as the leading associate. Before Valentine's Day, Janet had landed two of his accounts relinquished from his spreadsheet, burying him as well.

"You bitch," Dillan began, shouting after she came back from doing inventory on a Friday. "Whenever a prospect goes onto the common sheet, we always give the original associate two months before it becomes a free game."

Calm as a cucumber, Janet replied, "Really, Sweetie. I have never seen that rule written down."

"If you had ever been a team player, you would have known," he screeched.

"Teams go both ways, Sweetie. I don't remember you giving me any advice, encouragement...fuck you haven't said three sentences directly to me since I came here. If you can't bring in a prospect, then fuck you. That's on you," she growled.

"I ought to..." Dillan said, raising his hand.

"Dillan!" shouted Lambert. "What the fuck! Get in my office now!"

Unbeknownst to Dillan, Lambert was behind him the whole time. By closing time that night, the firm was another associate down. Janet was assigned Dillan's sheets and prospects. That weekend Janet celebrated with her Italian Stallion leaving him limp dicked, and exhausted Sunday night.

On Monday, she arrived at the office with a note from Lambert telling her to come to his office.

"Yes, Oscar, what can I do for you?" the bubbly Janet said after kissing Helen and entering Lambert's office.

"I got a note from Emily Watson, our executive, that she wants to see you at nine. She is on the sixth floor. Check in with the receptionist, and my advice is don't be late," Lambert said again, waving her off with his hand and dismissing her in a way Janet hated.

Smiling, she said, "Sure, OK," and mentally cursed Lambert all the way back to her office.

The elevator ride was swift, and Janet checked in with the receptionist and sat waiting to be called to Watson's office at a quarter to nine. To her surprise, the receptionist called her up at five minutes to nine.

"OK, Ms. Watson will see you now. Go down the hall. Her office is on the left, number 622," she said emotionlessly.

Janet walked down the hall and, finding the door closed, knocked.

"Enter," she heard.

The office was in a modern style. The L-shaped desk had three monitors, an inbox and outbox, a printer, and all the other accouterments necessary to do business. A set of bookshelves was behind her. In front of the desk were two chairs facing the desk, off to the right, under the windows, a couch, an overstuffed chair, and a coffee table. To her right, along the wall the door was in, was a coffee maker and bar. To her left, the wall had a large mirror, a couple of pictures, and several framed documents she assumed were things like diplomas or awards. Along that left wall also was another sofa.

"Come in," Emily said as she rose and went around her desk to stand before it.

Emily was of average height, around five feet six, and slim, trim, and fit. She had long blond hair, large breasts, and a rounded figure. Her rather severely conservative business suit tried unsuccessfully to hide how sexy she was.

"Good morning, Ms. Watson. How can I help you?" Janet said, stopping the usual three feet from her.

"Sit," Emily commanded, pointing to the chair on her right.

Once Janet was seated, Emily began.

"You were early, which is good. Your work has been exemplary, and the company is grateful. I understand you are a woman who is a team player. Is that correct?" she asked.

"Yes, I try to be a team player, Ms. Watson," Janet replied.

"Good," Emily replied.

Reaching down, Emily pulled her skirt up to her waist, exposing her naked wet pussy. She sat on the desk and spread her legs.

"Then you should know what to do now," Emily said.

Smiling, Janet knelt in front of Emily and licked her clit, drawing a gasp from Emily.

"Strip," Emily commanded, "I get juicy when I cum."

Janet stripped, flinging her clothes onto the chair she had been sitting on, and went crazy on Emily's cunt. She hadn't flat tongue licked Emily's clit more than a dozen times when Emily grabbed Janet's head and rubbed her pussy frantically on Janet's face. Emily squealed as she pulled Janet up, so she was rubbing her clit on Janet's chin.

"OH, fuck!" she screeched as she bathed Janet's neck and chest with her squirt.

"Sit back," Emily demanded urgently, releasing Janet's head. "I love to see my squirt running off a bitch's tits."

It was as if Emily aimed as each pulse hit Janet in the neck or high chest, running in rivulets down her chest and tits, little waterfalls cascading off her nipples. Once her pulsations stopped, she shouted, "Again."

Janet dived in with as much gusto as before, quickly bringing Emily to another orgasm. Knowing what to do now, Janet sat back, making sure the woman's squirt hit her on the chest to maximize the waterfalls off her tits.

"Again," Emily squawked.

Janet complied with equal enthusiasm, drawing a third orgasm from the executive.

Emily was panting like she had run a race. Sweat beaded on her brow as she tried to catch her breath.

"Sit," she finally squeaked, pointing to the other chair facing the desk. "Put your legs over the armrests. Yes, like that, I want to see your pussy. Now, masturbate."

Janet smiled a not-ungrateful smile. Being bathed in a hot woman's squirt with its slick feel and pheromone smell had excited her, and she was ready to orgasm herself.

"Do you squirt?" Emily demanded.

Nodding, Janet said, "Yes."

With that, Emily stripped and stood between Janet's legs. Janet knew what Emily wanted, but in the midst of the orgasm, she closed her eyes and left the adjustments for targeting to Emily. Janet squirted forcefully and directly onto Emily's cunt. Emily squealed and frantically rubbed her clit, and as Emily's last pulsations ended, Emily came squirting right onto Janet's pussy. Janet's eyes opened as the warm liquid showered her already sensitive pussy. It was like nothing she had ever felt before. Yes, she had sprayed her pussy with warm water in a shower, but this was so different. The warm cum, the odor, and the nudity all rose and engulfed her senses bringing on another orgasm and squirting Emily again.

"Oh my god fuck," Emily squealed as she again came squirting.

With Emily's last pulsations, she dropped to her knees and started licking her squirt from Janet's tits, vigorously sucking on Janet's nipples. After some time, Emily rose and stepped back.

Janet lowered her legs, but Emily said, panting, "Who the fuck told you to move?"

Emily then pulled a towel from her desk and began toweling herself off and dressing. Once dressed, she began to go through Janet's clothes, lifting and examining each piece.

Finally, she said, "You are a team player, and you are skilled. That is good. From now on, you are not to wear these," she said, holding up Janet's thong. "Nor are you to wear these," she said, holding Janet's bra. "I have decided to mentor you. I will send the details and schedule to Lambert later this afternoon. "Get dressed," she said, returning to her seat behind the desk.

Janet dressed sans thong and bra, as Emily had taken them with her. Sitting behind her desk, Emily watched Janet dress as she sniffed Janet's panties.

"You may go," Emily said, making that annoying hand wave she detested so much that Lambert used. "Oh, by the way. How is the inventory coming?" Emily asked, grinning just before Janet opened the door.

"Fine," Janet said casually while thinking this bitch knew what was going on.

"Good. I think there will be some changes today," Emily said, chuckling.

Janet ruminated about what Emily had said for the rest of the morning.

"So much for feminists in business saving other women from being sexually exploited," she thought. "This woman knows and is complicit in it, and she is exploiting me sexually as well. I have a feeling mentoring isn't exactly what we will be doing."

Janet ate lunch alone since Helen was in Lambert's office, probably feasting on his cum. At one, she took her inventory sheet and started for the fourteenth floor. All was the same, so she took

the inventory quickly stripped and shimmied into the hole. Janet was yanked roughly further into the hole and then twisted onto her right side. The unseen hands stretched her leg up and fastened it to the wall, and her right leg was pulled down and secured. Then strong hands pulled her in up to her chin. Her arms were extended above her head, trapped by the hole.

"Is that you, Mr. Monday Cock," she said, laughing. "You want a different position, huh?"

She sighed as she felt what was obviously Mr. Monday probing her pussy with his fantastic cock, seating himself fully in her ever-sloppy wet pussy. Then her eyes flew open as a finger quickly lubed her ass, and a second cock entered it.

"Oh god," escaped her lips as they began to pole her.

Slowly, they poled her at first. Sometimes, one was in as the other was out, sometimes in sync with each other simultaneously. She quickly found she liked it best when they were out of sync, and one was plunging in as the other pulled out. This anonymous double penetration was so erotic that she quickly began to reach for that orgasm, amazed that with the sex of the morning, she would be able to. Faster and faster, they pounded her. She could feel their members pass each other through the thin membrane separating her pussy from her ass until she wailed. That burning knot that was building in her guts burst, and she shrieked her orgasm. Her warm squirt ran off her legs, but they kept pounding, stroke after stroke now wholly asynchronous. It was like one continuous stroke until she screamed, convulsing in an orgasm like she had never had. She shuddered and shook, bucked and squirmed as the relentless stroking continued until, as she lay trembling in the afterglow, she heard grunting and knew that these unseen cocks were filling her with man goo.