Miss Allison Ch. 03

This chapter can stand by itself, but you'll get more out of this story by reading Chapters 1 and 2.

Dedicated to David. It's my spin on his kinks.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, merchandise, companies, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. All characters in sexual situations are 18 years or older.

Chapter Three

I was leaning against the back wall of the conference room in my best suit and tie watching my boss, Meghan Keller, wrap up a sales presentation to the Weston Corporation. It was mid-afternoon, and she was knocking it out of the park, seamlessly delivering a compelling sales pitch for our company's financial accounting software.

Meghan was my boss but she was more. For two years I secretly lusted after her (as well as Miss Allison). Meghan was thirty-five, the youngest Senior VP ever at Pelham & Associates, one of the leading providers of software solutions to Fortune 500 companies (did that sound like a PBS commercial?). She was beautiful and brilliant.

Of course she was unattainable to me. All beautiful woman under the age of sixty were unattainable to me. I didn't consider myself unattractive, but the passage of time, at age fifty-eight, was not overly kind to me, giving me more girth around my waistline and less hair on top of my head. Meghan, like Miss Allison, was way out of my league. But there was something more that made Meghan unattainable. She was a lesbian. And she had a partner. But hey, there were no rules to lusting after a woman and Meghan was definitely worthy of my lust-filled thoughts. Like Miss Allison, she was taller than average with the long legs and full breasts, sharp as a tack with a wicked sense of humor.

So I was watching Meghan present to an august collection of Weston Corporation executives, including the CEO, CFO and CIO, and I was daydreaming in the back, the bright sun shining on my face. I knew the presentation inside and out so I didn't have to pay close attention. For fuck's sake, I spent two weeks of my life holed up in a windowless conference room preparing it.

I was daydreaming because up until the day before I had exactly zero women in my life -- none. And now I had two. I'd been divorced for what felt like forever and the infrequent sex I was lucky enough to have was completely unmemorable. Then yesterday I got home from a business trip to Cleveland and my next-door neighbor Allison, who was taking care of my cat Lord Vader, confronted me with a hard copy of a sex survey I took that disclosed every single one of my depraved submissive BDSM fantasies in the most graphic of detail.

It was as embarrassing and as turned on as I've been in my life when Allison told me that she was assuming control of my life. Allison became Miss Allison to me.

I was ripe for the taking, especially by a woman as insanely gorgeous as Miss Allison. She was the prom queen of the local high school and aged into a sexy and curvaceous middle-aged woman. When I got to the office that morning Miss Allison had already sent the first two pages of the survey to Meghan. I didn't know how Miss Allison knew Meghan or why she sent Meghan the survey. My strong suspicion was that Miss Allison wanted to embarrass me in front of my boss because humiliation was one of the recurring themes in the survey.

Meghan's reaction to receiving a part of my highly explicit sex survey was not what I expected. Instead of kicking me out of her office she actually went in the exact opposite direction, offering to take the lead on the presentation. On the ride over to meeting Meghan played her cards close to the vest, not raising the survey. I certainly wasn't going to bring it up so it was just stilted small talk for the twenty-minute ride, avoiding the 600-pound gorilla in the room. Maybe she wanted to keep me on edge. Maybe she was just thinking about the presentation.

I started to pay attention again when I saw the closing slide on the big screen and watched Meghan finish up. My eyes scanned the room. Everyone was paying attention. No one was on their phone. For a thirty-minute presentation that was good. Very good.

". . . and in summary, we believe we can provide the best-in-class software system for your financial accounting needs. Our marketing manager, David Elliott, standing there in the back, will handle the Q&A."

Eyes in the conference room turned to the back as Meghan pointed me out. I waved to the group, familiar with most of them. I was the point of contact for the sale and spent countless hours interfacing with the client's IT team, helping determine their specifications and fielding their questions. The Q&A session would give us valuable clues as to whether they were leaning towards a 'buy" decision.

Right before I ambled up to the front to handle the questions the executive assistant who made the arrangements poked her head inside the conference room to snatch the CEO away for an unscheduled call. We were due for a break anyway, so the CEO told us to take fifteen minutes and then reconvene. I was glad I had the extra time to review my notes and visit the restroom one last time.

Everyone had gotten out of their chairs and filed out to the hallway to a long table set up with coffee and pastries. I grabbed a cup of hot coffee and a croissant and went over to Meghan, who was standing by herself drinking her coffee and surveying the crowd.

"You did great boss," I told her. We clinked coffee cups.

"You put together a solid presentation," she said, giving me the credit I was due.

"You know we've won this," she said, saying what was really on her mind.

"I think so," I said, not quite as sure as her.

"Don't fuck up the Q&A," she said in jest but really meaning it.

"I've got it," I said.

"I hope so," she replied, not exactly instilling great confidence in me.

She looked at me critically and then tugged on my tie.

"Why don't you check it in the bathroom before we get back together?"

I wanted to go anyway and her question really sounded like an order.

Then she stopped me before I left her. "Oh David?"

"Uh huh?"

"Question 14," she said cryptically.

"And?"

"That's it," she said.

"OK," I said. It must have been the survey, but I didn't remember what question 14 was and she wasn't going to tell me. Puzzled, I gobbled up the rest of my croissant and headed for the restroom.

* * *

I had to walk down a long hallway before getting to the men's room. It served the executive suite and was tastefully appointed with Carrera marble tiles for the counters and floor and high-end fixtures and faucets. There were fresh cut flowers between each sink and linen towels in lieu of paper ones.

I walked over to the bank of sinks and chose the one farthest from the door to check my tie. Meghan was right. My tie was crooked. I looked in the mirror, fussing with the knot until it looked just right. I heard a click at the door and didn't look back assuming someone else from the meeting came in. I went to the urinals for a quick whiz before going back to the meeting. But then I heard the unmistakable sound of women's high heels on the tile floor that caused me to snap my head back and look at who it was.

Holy shit.

It was Miss Allison. Dressed in boardroom appropriate attire -- a gray wool jacket, matching skirt and a white silk blouse. Four-inch black stiletto heels. Silky smooth bare legs. She looked fabulous and in any other circumstance I would have been elated to see her. But what the fuck was she doing in the men's room of the Weston Corporation?

I knew I was in trouble. I just didn't know what kind.

"Hello David."

She was a cool customer. She acted as if she belonged in there with me.

I was nervous and looked expectantly at the door, thinking someone might come in on us.

"Don't worry. I locked it. It's going to be just you and me."

I was worried. Very worried. What would happen if we got caught?

"Relax. Meghan told me you'd be here. I've got this."

Miss Allison said it like she could read my mind. Maybe she could.

"Why are you here?" I asked.

"Why am I here?" she repeated back to me in a sarcastic tone. "You know why I'm here."

"But now?" I asked, trying not to sound frantic but failing.

"There couldn't be a better time. This is a true test for you. How much do you want me David? You said you'd do anything for me and now here I am. Now you're getting your chance. Prove it to me. Or go back to your boring life and your boring fucking sales meeting. Which is it David?"

It was the whole ballgame. A sales career I spent a lifetime building or the chance to live out my sex fantasies with Miss Allison. I had to choose.

It wasn't a difficult decision.

"How can I be of service Miss Allison?" I asked her in a steady voice, displaying a calm exterior. I was absolutely shitting bricks inside but hopefully she didn't see my nervousness.

"Your answer to question 14 really got my attention so we're going to have fun with that one right now."

Question 14. It was the last thing that Meghan said to me. She and Miss Allison had planned this. Maybe it was for a job well done. Or maybe it was because their minds were as twisted as mine. Meghan was teaming up with Miss Allison. My heart was going a million miles an hour. I was glad I was in a restroom because I felt like I was going to lose it right then. Miss Allison, however, didn't give me time to think, grabbing hold of my tie and dragging me into a stall. Her face was inches from mine. I could feel her hot breath on my neck.

"Take off all of your clothes and put them in front of the toilet."

I promised Miss Allison I'd do anything, but did I really mean it? I had my boss Meaghan and most of the C-suite of one of my company's most important clients waiting for me. Yet my devilishly attractive next-door neighbor was in control of my life and I wasn't in a position to refuse her.

I finally remembered Question 14. When I answered it I pictured a beautiful woman like Miss Allison pissing in my mouth, giving herself to me but at the same time owning me. Owning me in one of the most intimate ways imaginable. I needed to give her what she wanted. After all, it's what I wanted. I held my breath and did it. I took off my clothes. I was naked in the executive washroom of a major client and was about to be pissed on.

"Kneel," she said.

I knelt in front of my Goddess. Nothing else mattered. I was excited out of my mind.

I thought I was going to faint when she carefully unbuttoned her white silk blouse and let it fall open, strip tease-like, revealing the entirety of her lacy sheer white bra and giving me a close-up view of her flawless breasts. Somehow time seemed to stand still. The woman I had lusted after for two years from afar was stripping for me. For me. She could see that I was staring at her tits and watched my eyes as she used one finger to pull down the cup covering her right breast, revealing all of it. Her nipple was pink and hard.

"I have to pee," she said, pulling her finger away and letting her bra cup snap back. "You can stay or you can go. Which is it?"

"I'll stay Miss Allison," I said without hesitation.

She smiled and sat on the toilet. "I thought so," she said, now seated. She rose a bit and pulled her panties to the floor. Then she said to me:

"Question 14. 'Are you interested in urophagia?' I had to look it up. Consumption of urine. You answered 'Yes.' Now you're going to get your chance."

She grabbed the few hairs I had on my head and moved my head within inches of her fragrant pussy. I could see and hear her pissing into the porcelain bowl, the smell gamey and unmistakable. She wanted me to see it and smell it. Would she let me taste it? A weak stream dwindled to a dribble and then stopped, yellow tinged droplets clinging to her labia, calling to me.

"Another decision David. You can serve me by cleaning me with your tongue or you can still make your meeting if you leave right now."

She was wasting time by talking. I shoved my face between her legs, smearing her piss-soaked pussy against my lips, devouring her tangy blend of pussy juice and piss and tasting my submission to her. It made me want her even more. Her legs eased open wider, allowing me to use my tongue to worship her properly. I licked her clean, swabbing her entire pubic area with my tongue. I wanted badly to jack off while I was eating her pussy but didn't dare touch myself without her permission.

My tongue went lower, my chin mashed against the cold rim of the white porcelain toilet. A shiver went down my spine when I touched her anus with the tip of my tongue. She let me linger for a moment, rimming her, before her hand on my shoulder told me to stop licking her ass. She was straining again, and my lips went to cover her urethra. I felt a gentle stream of hot piss fill my mouth. I swallowed the acrid fluid, proving my complete submission to her. She smiled at me as she watched me swallow. In a twisted way Miss Allison was baptizing our relationship. I tried to lap up each precious drop but some dripped off my chin, ruining my tie and dotting my jacket with small dark piss spots. At that point in time I didn't give a shit about my clothes or the taste of her offering. I sucked and licked the ripe lips of her pussy until her legs squeezed tight against my face and her body shuddered, then stilled.

I rose upright, still in a kneeling position. She pulled up her panties and stood up, towering over me. I watched her button her blouse, covering her bountiful breasts. I was already dreaming of sucking her luscious nipples.

I don't know what overcame me but I felt compelled to say it, fittingly her piss coating my lips and tongue.

"I love you Miss Allison."

She patted the top of my head.

"I know my pet. I know."

Miss Allison slipped by me, leaving me on my knees.

"Be a dear and flush the toilet, will you?" she asked me.

I heard the bathroom lock click and then she was gone.

I scrambled to my feet, looking down at my rumpled pile of clothes. My tie was unsalvageable, soaked with Miss Allison's piss. There were some droplets that hit my jacket. To my relief, my pants were unmarked. I checked my phone. I was already five minutes late. I tossed my tie into the trash and slung my soiled jacket over my shoulder. I didn't have time to rinse out my mouth though I did manage to swipe a paper towel across my face. I sprinted towards the conference room, expecting a whole room of people to be waiting for me. Instead, Meghan was standing outside the conference room talking to the CFO and the IT folks were packing up their gear inside the conference room. Everyone else had cleared out.

I was panting hard. Before I could say a word Meghan pulled me into her conversation.

"David, glad you're back. I was just speaking with Scott here about the engagement. I assume you heard the CEO has already given the green light so we cancelled the Q&A. Scott was wondering if we could be up and running by the end of the year. What are your thoughts?"

My brain tried to process what just happened. So I wasn't late. And we won.

"Scott. I think the end of the year is doable," I said in a daze. I'm sure they thought I looked happy, which I was, but I was also enormously relieved.

"Great," Scott said, patting me on the back. "And good job, both of you, on the presentation."

Scott left. Meghan wrinkled her nose after getting a whiff of me but not quite knowing where the smell was coming from.

"Well done David," she said. She noticed my tie was gone and I'd taken off my jacket. "Getting a head start on the weekend?"

"Oh yeah," I said. "I hope you don't mind but I don't like to wear a tie and since we're done . . ."

"Not at all. You deserved it. You've made my quarter with this sale."

We circulated through the office to say our goodbyes with me ultra self-conscious because I reeked of urine. Meghan and I walked together back to the elevator bank.

"Do you smell something?" she asked me.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I dropped my jacket in the men's room. It might have . . ."

"Did you drop it in the toilet?" she asked sarcastically, but not far from the truth.

"No," I said truthfully. "But the floor must have been wet."

She let my white lie pass. "And by the way, did you ever see Allison?"

I feigned surprise. I didn't feel ready to share my experience with Miss Allison so I lied. Maybe not the best decision I've ever made. "Oh, Allison? No . . . no, she never showed up."

"Pity," said Meghan.

* * *

Meghan and I were floating on air as we rode the elevator down to the main lobby. The elevator from the executive suites stopped in the lobby and from there we went to another series of elevators to the garage. We went past the security guard and into a smaller area containing the second bank of elevators. Meghan stopped me short of the elevator door.

"We killed it today David, but that's not why I want to talk to you. It's about the survey that Allison sent me."

I figured we'd get back to that.

"She only gave me the first two pages, and those were pretty eye opening. Even though I have no interest in having sex with you, I'm intrigued by your interests. If you give me the rest of the pages then I won't have to worry about a harassment claim. If anything, I'll have a claim against you. So you have a decision right now. If you want to promise to give me these remaining pages I'll get in the elevator with you and we'll have an interesting discussion on the way back to your house."

So it was up to me. If I promised to give Meghan the rest of the survey, which had tons of sexually explicit information about me, she'd have a harassment claim against me. She was protecting herself and getting leverage over me. Hmm . . . my hot boss joining with Allison to dominate me. Even though there was no promise of sex with her, this was still a no brainer.

I pushed the "down" button. When the door opened I motioned to Meghan.

"After you."

* * *

My mind was reeling on the ride down to the garage. One of the biggest sales of my life wasn't foremost on my mind. It was my boss Meghan standing next to me. How did she know Allison? Was it really an accident? And what did they plan for me? My pants were tenting as I thought of the possibilities.

We sought out my beat up Civic. Because of the divorce, I really couldn't afford a nice car and it seemed quite a contrast to have Meghan, a beautiful, sophisticated woman, riding next to me in my junker. To her credit, she didn't seem to care.

I watched Meghan put on her seatbelt, her hand crossing her blouse, unbuttoned enough to allow me to see the sides of her breasts. Her eyes darted over to catch mine watching her. She gave me a wry smile.

"I'm going to ask you a question but I think I already know the answer. Did you want to talk about your survey or about the sale we just made and it's impact on your year-end bonus?"

"The survey," I answered immediately.

She chuckled. "I thought so."

I was out of the underground parking garage and going on surface streets towards the interstate. She bent over to reach into her briefcase and I snuck another peek over at her. She read from the survey while I refocused my eyes on the road.

"I'm intrigued by question 6. 'Do you enjoy pain?' You gave a thought-provoking response. 'In the right context I can see pain as a pathway to pleasure.' I'm interested you see because my partner and I have discussed introducing some elements of BDSM into our relationship, and after reading your survey , quite frankly I thought . . ."

"That you'd experiment on me." I said, completing her thought.