Nate's Evil Exploits Pt. 01

"You sure do know how to suck a cock, Justin," said Nate, and the kid pulled off the end of him and licked his saliva-slicked lips.

"Is that your way of saying I get to keep my job?"

Nate pulled the kid back down on him. "That's my way of saying you're halfway there."

Justin resumed his efforts, and Nate pushed his chair back from the desk, his legs spread wide, his head leaning back against the headrest.

Justin took him deep and released him, took him deep agains, until Nate was moaning and eager to finish.

As his climax boiled up, Nate pushed both hands into the kid's hair and fucked up into his mouth, releasing his load with a groan from behind clenched teeth.

Justin made a contented noise in the back of his throat as he swallowed, and Nate's urgent grip turned to stroking the kid's hair.

"Yooou, are, not fired."

Justin pulled off Nate's cock and took it in his hand, his eyes locked to Nate's as he squeezed out the last few drops and cleaned them away with wet sweeps of his tongue.

Nate watched with deep satisfaction as the kid packed him back into his briefs, and slowly zipped him back up. His slim fingers stroked across Nate's flat stomach, his eyes smouldering with lust. Nate knew if he wanted to bend the kid over his desk, right here, right now, he could. And maybe later he would. But he had a long day ahead of him, and even Nate needed a rest period.

"Alright, you can stay. And I'll make sure you're put on a higher salary, provided you start my mornings like this for the rest of the week."

Justin's eyes darkened. "What? Suck you off for the rest of the week?"

Nate could hear the disappointment in his voice.

"It's more money, and you keep your job. Four more blowjobs won't kill you. Now put your shirt back on and fuck off."

Justin crawled out from under his desk and grimly pulled his shirt on.

"Are you really as much of a prick as you pretend to be?"

Nate looked up at him. There was no humour in his eyes now. "I'm much worse."

Justin shook his head and headed for the door.

Once he'd gone, Nate turned his attention to his next appointment. It was with a dark-haired woman called Phoebe Grant. Her file photo showed a woman dressed in a smart suit, her long dark hair flowing over her shoulders, and she was head of some department or other. From her performance reviews, he already knew he was going to recommend she keep her job, but still... that gorgeous dark hair, and those pale blue eyes.

He wanted her, and he didn't think she was going to be tricked into crawling under his desk to give him a blowjob. No, he needed to play this one with a little more finesse.

He sent her an email. 'Change of plans. Let's meet for coffee downstairs.'

That sent, he emailed Greg. 'Meet me at the coffee shop downstairs before my next appointment and I'll buy you a coffee.'

That done, he began to hunt on the internet for the leverage he needed to get her onto his cock.

Her Facebook page gave him a glimpse into her life, with a profile picture of her on a yacht at sunset with a man who was presumably her husband. He was a good looking guy, a little younger than her. Nate was in luck—it seemed he was her type. Her husband had the same dark hair and dark eyes. He was tall, slim. Muscular, but not bulky.

Nate dug further. She'd gone to university at Imperial College in London, and had a master's in business management.

And then he struck gold. A picture of a much younger Phoebe Grant in her pre-power suit days. It was taken at a student protest. He ignored the waffle about the protest, captivated by the black and white photo of a girl with free-flowing hair, her face, turned to the camera in a moment of sudden awareness, showing those pale blue eyes. She was smoking a joint.

He was willing to bet she still smoke a little weed in her spare time. Maybe she'd left it behind her in her student days, but a woman as uptight as Phoebe Grant, as passionate as she was about-whatever massively boring cause she'd been protesting about—probably needed to unwind after a hard day of heading up... whatever department she headed up.

He was pretty sure Vital Technologies had a 'no drugs' clause in their contracts. It'd probably never been enforced, and he doubted anyone at the company had ever been drug tested, but that didn't matter. No, what mattered was that if he was right, Phoebe Grant was in contravention of her employment contract, and that, as Nate saw it, was his ticket to ride.