Jake's Resignation (2019)

Jake walked into that law firm Monday morning. The smell of his garage ached him to drive back and jump off his dryer with a noose. He smelled the fresh paint as the garage door frame rocked to and from by each sway. The shamrock green drywall sucked up by his nostrils before his spirit left for the soft sands of Heaven. But he drove to work on three cups of coffee. The caffeine burned up his depression but electrified his nervous system into doable anxiety attacks.

His finance tie strangled him more cruelly than any noose could. Jane's 28-year-old fingers tapped a draft to the judge like a melody. Her tits almost spilled out of her black blouse. "Good morning Jake," she said.

"Good Morning Jane," Jake said. Jake passed her—his sexy red-haired boss—the district attorney, then into his office—her closet; which held one painting: teal sky, teal ocean, white vertical dab for a New England lighthouse—in lieu of any true windows. He closed his door leaving an inch and sucked his silver wine filled flask like a nipple.

Jane tipped his door open a foot. "I need the ledgers on these three cases when you get a chance and how much do we have in operating?" Jane returned to her desk sucking on a hard-cherry cough drop. Jake followed.

"I hate do to this, but I need to think about myself," Jake said. He slapped the desk with a floppy print of Jane and her Spanish gardener going doggy-style in her a blue carpeted shed. "His real name is Raul and he's my gardener too. We connected the dots one whiskey drenched poker night and I gained a royal flush and hot leverage on you."

"This is blackmail," Jane said. "You will go to prison."

"I have been in prison for ten years doing this job, flapping around like a fish out of water," Jake said.

"What do you want?" she said.

"I have not been laid in seven years. Just twenty minutes of your time in your bookkeeper's closet and you can have the rest of them."

"Fine. Hurry up. Let's go before the rest of the office arrives!"

"If you would be so kind," Jake said. He handed her an opened jar of Vaseline. "Please cover your entire body with this. I'd love it." Jake's cock pulsated into aching marble as she took the jar. "Please leave your skirt on too."

Jane shut his office door and kicked off her black heels. She unbuttoned her blouse and unclipped her silver braw. Her tits spilled out all over Jake's world—her soft nipples like puppy's eyes. "May I?" Jake said.

"Fine. Hurry up," she said.

Jake stripped to bare nude. His hard cock bouncing about in the AC draft as he leaned it on her warm thigh—her skirt became hiked up. He dipped three fingers in the petroleum goo and oiled his fingers and palms. He groped her tits for twenty seconds.

"Okay, they are oiled!" she said.

He dipped a second time and smeared her ass cheeks. Her skirt climbed to her hips and revealed a red silk thong. He cleared the jar and oiled her ankles to her neck.

"Hurry the fuck up asshole!" she said.

He bent her over his dirty bookkeeping lab. Her palms flattened on each side of his keyboard. He pointed his hard cock between her wobbling ass cheeks and muttered to himself: Here goes to seven miserable years of masturbating, headless, on webcam, to unapproachable online models—jerking off to a fucking screen!

"Hurry. The others will be here!" she said.

He slid his cock into her pussy—cool like a mountain stream. His erection screamed in celebration by firing pleasure neurons into his miserable neglected soul. He remained deep inside of her while he contemplated her expensive outfit splayed out on his office floor. He glanced over his stack of invoices, spreadsheets, and decrepit half-drunk cup of coffee: caffeine—the only thing that kept him alive.

Before he knew it, he was fucking, thrusting, to a rhythmic sound of flesh being slapped—it echoed the walls of his oppressive office. "Oh, this pussy is what I needed." His fingers slide her slippery body as they discovered her swaying tits—they grappled her swollen breasts. He smeared the goo over her nipples and with his right hand found the warm pulse under her chin. His arctic-white ass danced as he plunged deep inside her. "Oh, this pussy is wonderful."

Jane stared at the floor and it came. "Oh!" She moaned but swallowed it.

"Stick that ass up in the air baby!" She did.

He rocked her ass for ten minutes until a distant sound of laughter erupted.

"Finish damn you! They are here! Oh! Oh!"

"Oh Lord—release me!" Jake said.

He smacked her ass, watched it jiggle and slid his cock out of Heaven. He poured out warm seamen like black oil, a gallon, all over her heated ass cheeks and down her thighs. Jake's come tickled her ankles like a river.

Jane dried with a roll of paper towels. Dressed and vanished. Jake sipped his cold coffee and pulled a vanilla envelope packed with photographs out of his backpack. Along with a letter of resignation—it was off to better things for Jake.