Mr and Mrs Smith (Complete)

"OK, thanks, Frank. We'll talk over the implications of the new deal and the bids at the Board meeting on Thursday. Now, Julie, could you get me a coffee, please, and then we need to go over my schedule for the next two weeks."

I went back into my office, grabbed my bag and headed to the ladies. Off with the suspenders, stockings and heels, on with the tights and comfy shoes. I was about to clean off the excess make- up but changed my mind. I'd do that before heading for home. I got the coffee, plus one for myself, and headed back to the office.

"Julie, that was a hell of a performance. I really can't thank you enough. You went well beyond what I asked for, and you could see the effect it had on Jim. I just hope that you never try that on me - I might not be able to resist."

I left the compliment unanswered. It was the first time that the Boss had ever directly expressed any form of attraction for me, and I didn't know how to react. Perhaps he understood my uncertainty, my embarrassment.

"Take Kevin out for a meal, on the company. Somewhere nice, a bit special. Just present me with the expense claim and I'll sign it off. And if we win the extra business, there'll be a sales bonus in it for you. Now, you and I have some planning to do."

*****

That Saturday, Kevin and I went to the Mostyn Park Hotel, generally thought of as the poshest place around. We booked a cab both ways and had a full bottle of a very nice and rather pricey wine between us. I wore the same outfit I'd worn to the office to please the Boss, including the suspenders (together with some rather alluring matching black lace underwear), stockings and killer heels. We had a gorgeous meal, and when we got home, I pulled my dress off and gave Kevin a long, slow blow-job, kneeling in front of our bedroom mirror in my sexy lingerie and heels. I even very deliberately and ostentatiously re-applied my lippy, as I know that Kevin likes the feel of it on his cock. I did something I rarely did - I let him come in my mouth. I'm not fond of the taste of semen, but just this once I thought I'd give him the treat. There was about a glass-full of the wine left in the bottle we'd had at dinner, and Kevin had cheekily taken it with us. I grabbed it and took a swig to get rid of the taste, then I pushed Kevin to the floor, shimmied out of my panties and straddled his face.

As I said, Kevin enjoys - and is very good at - cunnilingus, and it didn't take long before I was moaning and yelling in abandon, grinding my pussy down onto his hot mouth and impaling myself on his flexible and very-skilled tongue. I was almost there when he suddenly lifted me off him, turned me around to face the mirror and slipped his dick into me from behind. As he started to thrust, I felt him unclip my bra, and then one hand cupped a breast while the other one enveloped my pussy and started stroking my clit.

I looked down, and there was Kevin's hand, skilfully rubbing my slit, and I could just see his dick sliding in and out of me. The sensations from my pussy were getting almost as good as when his mouth was there, he was teasing my nipple just the way I love it, and the sight of him thrusting in and out between my stocking-clad thighs was very sexy.

And just at that moment, for no reason I could tell, I had an image of the Boss come into my mind. It wasn't my darling husband shafting me vigorously and teasing my sensitive areas, it was my big, strong, inscrutable Boss, giving it to me over his desk because I'd dared to go into his office dressed up like a tart to please a customer - and him.

Ten seconds later I was coming almost violently. All the time I was moaning and crying out, and even as I felt Kevin's dick pulsing inside me, I couldn't shake the image from my head. I felt guilty and cheap and sexy and incredibly turned on, all at the same time.

"You were amazing tonight, darling," Kevin said as he held me close on the bed. We were both naked, my semen-streaked stockings soaking in the bathroom basin and my underwear scattered across the bedroom floor. "I don't know why your boss is so pleased with you, but whatever it is, you should do more of it. It was a great meal and the most delightful bonk we've had in a while. And thanks for swallowing; that was a real treat."

I kissed him and held him close, partly because I loved him and partly because, at that moment, I was feeling terribly guilty about not only imagining sex with my Boss, but also finding the idea exciting enough to make me come.

"Thanks, baby," I said, resting my head on Kevin's chest so I didn't have to look into his eyes. "I helped him to close a lucrative deal with a customer and you know how he appreciates it when someone does a good job."

"You must have done a really good job to get us a meal like tonight. Don't tell me you had to suck the customer's dick?" He grinned.

For a moment I didn't know what to say. "Of course - and I had to swallow his semen. But that was just a practice run for tonight."

Kevin slapped my bum playfully. "Tart!" he said with a laugh.

"And your point is?" I threw back at him.

He kissed me, and we started another session, this time of slow, gentle lovemaking that culminated in him sucking my clit until I screamed. I told him I was a little sore from earlier, so he poured some oil over my breasts and rubbed his dick between them until he came again, over my neck and face.

"You were amazing tonight, love. I've never seen you like that before."

"Thanks. I just felt very hot for you tonight. I don't know what came over me."

"Well, me, mostly," he grinned.

I slapped him playfully and got up to clean the sticky goo from my body and face. When I came back to bed, we cuddled and kissed as usual, then curled up to go to sleep. But my mind kept going back to the weird experience of imagining the Boss as my lover instead of my husband, and I found it rather disturbing. It was probably over an hour before I finally fell asleep.

Chapter 3. A Close-Knit Team

The following Monday morning, the Boss and I were going over his schedule for the next few weeks.

"After the Board meeting on Thursday, I may need to make some plans for a visit to two of our Northern facilities. Book me hotels in Newcastle and Edinburgh for - let's see - mid-July. We'll need to get the Associated Plastics' bids in over the next couple of weeks, and then we've got the contract renewal for Smollett's."

"Don't forget you have the visit from the MoD procurement people around then."

"You're right. Well, I guess the trip will have to wait a little. Find a slot when I don't have anything major on for a week and book it for then. Oh, and Julie, I'd like you to come with me if you wouldn't mind."

I was a little surprised. "Why do you need me there, Boss?"

"It's not going to be easy. The old Robson Engineering works in Gateshead needs a bit of a shake-up, and I'll have some pretty blunt meetings with their management. Their profitability is down and I need to get them to buck their ideas up. McFarlane's in Edinburgh is worse. We've had customer complaints and the management seem to be complacent. McIlwaine, the guy running it, seems to be an arrogant little shit - excuse my language - and I may need to either fire him or close the place down entirely. In any case, I need someone to take very careful notes of what's discussed in the meetings and help me try to create get-well plans for both plants. You're by far the best person to do that, so if Kevin can spare you for a week, I'd like to drive up first thing on the Monday morning, do Gateshead on Monday and Tuesday and then go on to Edinburgh on Wednesday so we can use Thursday and Friday, and then come back on Saturday morning. You can have time off in lieu of the Saturday if you like."

"I'm not sure, Boss. I don't think Kevin will be best pleased."

"Julie, I'm sorry but I wouldn't ask if I didn't need you. Check the dates, contact the hotels - I always use the Vermont in Newcastle and the McCrae in Edinburgh - and book us two rooms in each for the appropriate dates. If we need to change anything we can always cancel nearer the time. And then contact the Chief Executives' secretaries - that's Atkinson's in Gateshead and McIlwaine's in Edinburgh - and warn them we're coming. I'll give you a list of the reports we'll want from them in advance. I need to be well-prepared, especially if it gets to the point of closing them down. And I'll need to discuss the options with Pauline, just in case there are redundancies or dismissals. Schedule me a meeting with her for later this week."

I was right about Kevin. Over dinner, I explained to him what the Boss had asked, and I could tell that he wasn't pleased.

"Julie, I don't think your Boss should be expecting you to take a week out and be at his beck and call like that. It's not like you're paid his sort of money for it. I'd tell him where to get off if I were you. He said you should challenge him if he takes liberties."

"It's not like that, love. He needs someone he can trust to record what's been discussed in some very sensitive meetings. He might have to shut some of these places down and make a load of people redundant, so he has to be very focused and make sure that what he says is fair and properly communicated. I feel quite flattered that he trusts me enough to help in something that's going to be so tough for him."

"But it's not your concern, love. Just because he has a problem, it doesn't mean it's your problem."

"Well, I think it is my problem. The Boss sees me as a key member of his team. I get paid quite a lot more than I've ever been in the past, and more than I could expect for a similar job elsewhere at my age. He trusts me with important things, and he gives me status and some excellent experience. Even the other PAs come to me for advice now, and bloody Pauline has stopped treating me like some bimbo and gives me respect. I can't say no if he genuinely needs me to be there."

"Are you sure there won't be any hanky-panky?" He said it with a roguish look on his face, as if he knew that nothing would happen between me and the Boss, but he just wanted to wind me up.

"Hardly," I replied. "I'm in charge of booking the rooms, so I have complete control of the sleeping arrangements."

"Well, I suppose you'll have to go, but it's still going to be a wrench. How am I going to survive without you for a week? I mean, my dick isn't going to suck itself, is it?"

"Well, I'll have to make sure it's well sucked before then. Starting now."

I got down on my knees under the table and unzipped his flies. His dick was soft when I started, and I was able to take it all in my mouth - something I can't easily do when he's hard. I know he loves it when I do that. He got stiff quite quickly, and I kept sucking and licking, taking him as deep as I could until he grabbed the back of my head and I felt him try to pull back. I let him pull out, but then licked the head of his dick until he spurted semen all over my face. That's something else I don't normally do, but I felt I needed to show him that I was his and his alone, and it was almost like he was marking me as his woman.

The next few weeks whizzed by. In addition to the normal bid work and customer visits, we seemed to be in a whirl of meetings, planning and preparation for the trip north. It was clear that there were problems at both plants we were to visit, and the Boss made sure I was as aware of these as anyone. Pauline briefed the Boss on what he could and couldn't say about redundancies, disciplinary actions against management and other HR issues, and I took lots of notes so I could prompt him if necessary. I went over the reports with him, and he explained precisely what he felt was wrong at each site. After that, I felt I was as well-versed in the issues as he was.

On that Monday morning in early August, the Boss arrived in his big Mercedes around 6 am. I was ready, and Kevin gave me a hug and a kiss, and then my suitcase was in the boot and we were off. We stopped for coffee and toast after two hours, and then pressed on. We got to the Gateshead plant around midday, and the management had laid on a buffet lunch for us. I think I was regarded with a mixture of suspicion and curiosity by the all-male team there. They didn't fully understand my role but they seemed keen to admire my figure.

After lunch, the Boss was taken on a tour of the plant, and the managers were surprised that I came along too. They were even more surprised when I asked questions about the SPC system they ran. Statistical Process Control was one of the cornerstones of the Boss's improvements across Jarrett's. It was something my previous employers had used, but not very well. The Boss felt it was at the heart of good manufacturing. He was already talking about something called Six Sigma that was beginning to come out of Japan and some plants in the US, long before it became mainstream in the UK. I think the production boys at what had been the old-established firm of Robson's Engineering were confused and a bit alarmed that a woman - even worse, a young woman - seemed to know more about control limits than they did.

After the tour, the Boss and I interviewed all of the middle and senior management, one at a time. Even though there were problems, I was impressed that the people seemed to know their jobs and were committed to making things better. Their opinions on what exactly 'better' constituted, and how to achieve it, differed somewhat from what the Boss thought, so there was some robust conversation, especially with the more senior guys. The Boss had a strong opinion that the buck stopped at the top, and there was no point berating the middle managers if the senior guys weren't dealing with problems properly.

"Look, Jack," he said to the works manager, "I don't care how fucking dedicated your workforce is, if the reject rate is too high and the margins are too low, they're doing something wrong." He'd rarely used language like that in my presence in the past, so it was clear to me that he was determined that the management of what had been Robson's before the takeover understood who was in charge now and that he wasn't going to put up with any dissent.

"But Boss," Jack said, looking a little distressed, "they're craftsmen. You can't get them to change their methods overnight."

"Can't you? I can. I can tell them that if they don't adapt to the new working methods and cut down the wastage by at least 50%, they can find jobs in some other craft workshop - until that one closes down like Robson's will if it doesn't buck its fucking ideas up."

"You can't do that, Boss! Robson's has been here for more than a century. It's an institution," Jack bleated.

"I fucking can and I fucking will if I have to," the Boss replied. "It may have been here for a century, but it won't survive another six months if it doesn't improve its processes. I need you to do that, Jack, and if you can't I'm going to have to find someone who will." He let the threat hang in the air for a moment. "So tomorrow, you and your team are going to present to me your plan to improve profitability and reduce waste. Otherwise, you'll be the first one needing to look for a job, Jack. Is that understood?"

*****

We checked into the Vermont around 5. Our rooms were fine, and the Boss suggested we go out for a meal. "You need to see the Newcastle Quayside at night. It's quite an education," he told me. "Dress up a little or you'll look out of place".

I'd packed the lycra dress that I'd worn at my interview and for my little subterfuge with Jim Paget, just in case the Boss needed me to use my body to distract anyone on this trip. I knew that he wouldn't ask me to do that again unless he needed it, but I was quite proud to be his 'secret weapon'. I followed his suggestion, applied some slap and dressed up as he'd suggested, though I left the killer heels off. I'd seen how steep some of the streets were and didn't fancy risking a broken ankle.

It soon became clear that the local girls had no such concerns. It was August but I felt over-dressed in my little lycra number. The girls were in tiny dresses with large areas of exposed flesh, and heels that I would have struggled to wear to walk across the office. "It's like this all year, even in January. Geordie lasses don't seem to feel the cold," the Boss said. "And this is just Monday night. You should see it at the weekends!"

We found a quiet Thai restaurant a little way up from the Quayside. Over dinner, which I enjoyed, even though it was my first experience of spicy Thai cuisine, the Boss talked about little apart from Robson's.

"Would you really shut it down?" I asked.

"If I have to, but I don't think it'll come to that. The management are a bit complacent, but they're good people at heart - mostly ex-engineers who learned their trade the hard way. I respect that; they're not college kids who think they know everything because they can put a few letters after their names. The down-side is that they're a bit stuck in their ways. They need a bit of a boot up the backside to bring them into the modern world, but I'm confident that they can turn the place around."

After the meal, we went back to the hotel, had a drink in the bar, and then the Boss said he needed to turn in. I felt it was time for me to do that as well. The Boss had given me a new laptop, and I decided to spend an hour typing up some of my notes from the day's meeting. We went up together in the lift, and at the door of my room, the Boss thanked me for my contribution during the day - and then kissed me on the cheek as he said goodnight. As I closed my bedroom door, I could still feel the touch of his fingers on my bare arm, and the soft wetness of the kiss on my cheek. It felt a little strange, and I found my heart was beating a little faster.

I phoned Kevin.

"How did it go?" he asked.

"Pretty well. The Boss is giving them a hard time, but I'm sure they'll come through it. I think I surprised them with my knowledge of their business. They took one look at me and labelled me as a dumb blonde."

"How could they do that?" Kevin replied. "I mean, your hair's quite dark..."

"Ooh, how rude can you get?" I replied, smiling at the implied mock insult.

"Oh, a lot ruder than that. But it'll have to wait until you get home."

"Miss you, love," I said.

"God, I miss you. You've only been away for a day and I'm already wondering what I'm going to hold on to in bed."

"Try reaching inside your pyjama bottoms and see what you find. Love you."

It took me over an hour and a half to get the notes typed up, and I'd hoped that I would then be tired enough to sleep. It did help, but I was still troubled by the memory of my feelings when the Boss had kissed me goodnight. I was slightly alarmed at how excited it had made me, and I felt guilty. I concentrated on thoughts of Kevin, missing the warmth of his body next to me, and finally, I had to rub my clit and make myself come before I could finally get to sleep.

*****

I felt that Jack's presentation skills were not his strongest suit. However, the Boss seemed able to focus on the content, rather than the rather scrappy and disorganised way in which the information was presented. He asked a lot of questions and got me to record a long list of actions. By lunchtime I could see the local guys were beginning to relax; the Boss was giving them a hard time, but when he found gaps in their plan, he was then helping Jack and his team to plug them.

We paused for a sandwich lunch, and the Boss and I had a short chat on our own.

"They're still a bit flaky, but I think we're getting there. The penny seems to have dropped that they need to change, and they're giving me confidence that they're up for the challenge."