On the Fast Track

Jacobs looked at me and frowned.

"You know I've fired people for disagreeing with me, don't you?"

I said I did, but I also knew he'd fired people for not saying what they thought and believed. He smiled then.

"Turn off the projector and sit down, Mark. I'll explain why we sent you to that seminar."

When I sat down, he put his hands on the table and his face turned from a smile to a look of determination.

"Mark, what I'm about to tell you will remain confidential between the three of us. If you tell anyone about the reason for the seminar, the result will be immediate termination. Do you understand?"

I nodded, and he smiled.

"The real purpose of that workshop had nothing to do with teaching you anything. The purpose was to determine how you'd act in different circumstances and with other people you don't know and who don't work for you. That's the situation any man in senior management sees nearly every day. Things never go according to the original plan and the original assumptions usually prove to be wrong. People who have a vested interest in something will go out of their way to present their case in the most favorable light. The executive has to be able to see through that and make the right decisions without hurting the people in question.

"You and every other man in the room were monitored by a closed circuit television system with audio. The assistant you were assigned carried a small tape recorder and recorded everything you said that the ceiling microphones didn't pick up. We know what you ate and drank at every meal and what you talked with your assistant about at dinner. Yesterday morning, I got a copy of the tapes and a report of everything you did during the seminar.

"The reason for doing that is it's fairly easy to find men who are technically competent. What's harder is finding technically competent men who are also of the sort to represent the corporation in a way that reinforces our value statement.

"We can't have a division or corporate executive getting drunk and embarrassing himself, because that embarrasses the corporation. We can't afford an executive who eats the most expensive thing on the menu because the company is paying the bill. An executive who allows a supplier to bribe him with rewards in exchange for business isn't good for the company either. We can't have an executive who, shall we say, enjoys the company of certain types of women.

"What we have to have is executives who are technically capable and ready to take the bull by the horns and lead, and who are also, for lack of better words, morally and ethically capable too. We already know you're technically capable. The seminar was to test your moral and ethical capability and your ability to lead in situations involving complex problems and complex people."

Well, about everything made sense once I'd heard that. The ambiguous instructions and restricting rules were to see if I'd step up and try to lead my team. The lunch menus had included a lot of heavy meals along with salads. Dinners had been the same. Each night Miranda had asked if I wanted a drink before dinner, and she'd made a big deal about this menu item or that menu item and if I wanted an appetizer before dinner. When I thought back about those menus, what she'd been hinting at were all rich foods and priced higher than I could normally afford.

Miranda hadn't been my assistant. She'd been my monitor and my temptress. The last night, she'd been my seductress as well. When I thought back over my time with her, I decided she was very, very good at her job.

I looked at my boss and then at Jacobs.

"OK, a lot of things make sense now. The question is, did I pass the test and what happens if I didn't?"

Jacobs grinned at Arnie.

"That the kind of man I want to replace you, Arnie. He's like you said. He says what he thinks and he doesn't beat around the bush doing it. I think we've found our man if he agrees to the offer."

Jacobs turned to me then.

"Yes, you passed. The comments from the instructors were that you were always trying to steer your team in the right direction even when they resisted, and that your presentation on the last day was direct, to the point, and what you were supposed to figure out. When I watched the tape, I saw the same thing. They were also impressed that you offered possible alternative solutions if you'd been able to change the assumptions.

"Miranda's report on your conduct during the seminar and after hours was also very good. You didn't know this of course, but those assistants are all degreed psychologists and they're very good at leading a man astray. In her report, she said that never once did you follow her attempts to get you to indulge yourself.

"We recognize your talents, so if you'd failed, we wouldn't be having this talk. You'd just stay on as a manager until you quit or retired. Since you passed, I'm offering you the job Arnie has now. We've been waiting on his promotion to VP until we could find a replacement."

He went on to tell me what my salary would be and what other perks I'd have. I didn't really need a country club membership, but it was a nice thing to have. The new car every year meant a lot more.

When I said I'd accept, Jacobs smiled.

"OK, Arnie. When you got this job, I told you part of the job was training your replacement. You did that. Now, you get Mark here ready as fast as you can. We need you in Detroit."

They both walked out and left me standing there in the conference room. As I gathered up my slides, I was thanking my lucky stars for guiding me through that seminar.

It was two weeks later that I moved into Arnie's old office. It took that long for me to get up to speed on everything Arnie had on his plate. I also had to hire my replacement, and after the seminar, I started looking for more than just a good engineer. I figured that like Arnie, I was picking a man I could train as my replacement.

Six months in, I was relatively comfortable in the job and I was enjoying it. The challenges were different and harder to figure out, but I was finding I was pretty good at it and that was satisfying.

Two weeks after that, I got a call at home one Friday night. I didn't recognize the phone number except that it was a local number, but there were still a lot of phone numbers I didn't yet know so I answered it. The voice on the other end of the line was familiar.

"Hi, Mark. It's Miranda...from the seminar in Chicago?"

"I know. I recognize your voice. Can I help you with something?"

There was a short pause before she answered.

"Well, I just wanted to tell you that I don't work for FLC anymore. I've started my own consulting firm. I got tired of analyzing people when they didn't know I was doing it and I couldn't tell them what I'd figured out would help them. Now, I'm teaching workshops on how to analyze people and how to deal with different personalities."

"Yeah, I heard you're a psychologist. You hid that from me very well, by the way."

"Mark, are you mad at me about that?"

"No, I'm not mad. You were just doing a very good job at doing your job. I have to respect that. Is that why you called me? How did you get my home number anyway?"

"Well, before I left FLC, I got your home number from the admissions application your company sent us. The reason I'm calling is...Well, I'm here in Springfield to do a workshop next week. Could we meet somewhere tomorrow so I can tell you something in person. It has to do with my report to your company about your performance at the seminar."

I was going to work until noon, so I asked Miranda if she'd like to have lunch and we could talk while we ate. She said she was busy until three, and she'd rather talk at her hotel.

When I got to the hotel lobby, it was like when I met Miranda at the seminar. She was sitting in a chair in the lobby, and she smiled when I walked in. I sat down in the chair beside her.

"Miranda, it's good to see you again. So what's this all about?"

Miranda was fidgeting with her hands and she looked down at her lap.

"When I wrote my report, I didn't tell the truth about you. I don't regret that, but I need to tell you why.

"See, I know you looked at me a lot. You were supposed to look at me. That's why I dressed like I did. It was to get you prepared for Thursday night, to make you want to take me back to your room. That Thursday night, I saw how much you wanted to do that, but you didn't. That's what I didn't put in my report."

"OK, but you didn't lie because it didn't happen. Just out of curiosity, what would you have done if I'd invited you up?"

Miranda looked up at me then.

"If you'd have been any other man, I'd have told you no and I'd have put that in my report. With you, I'd have gone with you and then written my report as if I had told you no."

Well, that set me back on my heels. I'd liked everything about Miranda, but I figured that was because she was doing everything she could to make me at ease with her. When I found out what she was really doing, I chalked up the way she acted as just doing her job. Now she was telling me she had different thoughts, or at least that seemed to be what she was saying.

"Miranda, if I understand what you're saying, I just have one question. Wasn't everything you did on those nights just part of your job?"

Miranda looked at her lap again.

"Yes, part of it was. Part of it...well, I wasn't supposed to dress like I did that Thursday night and I wasn't supposed to act like I wanted to go up to your room. I was supposed to just act like I liked you and wait for you to ask me.

"I did more than that because...you won't believe me because I was lying all the time we were together. I couldn't believe it myself. People aren't supposed to be strongly attracted to other people as soon as they meet. It's suppose to take a while and they have to be together a lot. That's what I thought, but that day in the conference room, something clicked when we shook hands. It kept getting stronger through the week and by Thursday..."

Miranda looked up at me again.

"You don't believe me, do you?"

I did believe her and I believed her because I was seeing a different Miranda. In the seminar, she'd been quiet and nice to be with, but I'd considered us both professionals. Now, she was a woman telling me what she really felt and I'd discovered that the feelings I'd had and suppressed during the seminar were real too. I reached over and gently squeezed her hand.

"Miranda, I believe you. What would you say if I told you I was feeling the same way that Thursday night? What would you say if I told you I would have liked it if you'd come up to my room with me?"

Miranda's eyes opened wide.

"You would have? You really would have?"

I smiled and nodded.

"Yeah, I would have liked it a lot, even if we hadn't done anything except talk about how I felt about you. That night I had trouble falling asleep. I kept asking myself why I didn't tell you how I felt and that I wanted to keep seeing you after the seminar. Then I'd tell myself you were probably doing what you did because of your job. Then I'd tell myself you wouldn't have hinted that you wanted to come to my room if you didn't feel something for me. Then I'd wonder which was right and wish I'd had the courage to find out. It was a rough night for me."

Miranda smiled.

"It was a rough night for me too. I was trying to tell you I felt more for you than any other client I'd worked with without making myself look desperate. That's why I didn't come right out and say I wanted to come up to your room. That's what I really wanted though."

I picked up Miranda's hand and squeezed it gently.

So, what do we do about this? I know, why don't we have dinner tonight? I know a nice place that is never very crowded and the food's pretty good. They don't have a wine steward, but I think wine stewards are overrated anyway."

We had dinner that night and every night Miranda was in Springfield. I'd meet her in the hotel lobby, we'd eat, and then I'd take her back. On Sunday night, I kissed her just before she got on the elevator. On Monday night the kiss lasted longer. Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday nights, we spent a few minutes cuddling in my car before I walked her inside and kissed her good bye.

On Friday night, I paid the check at the little French restaurant and then walked her to my car with her arm in mine. When I opened the door for her, Miranda turned and put her arms around my neck.

"Mark, we seem to be having another last night together. My flight isn't until six tomorrow night. If I had a bottle of wine, I'd ask you to come up to my room."

I kissed her on the forehead and then chuckled.

"You know what would happen if you did, don't you?"

Miranda stroked my chest with her fingertip.

"Uh-huh. That's why I'd ask you up. I don't have a bottle of wine to offer you though."

I put my arms around her waist, kissed her, and then stroked her back.

"What makes you think I'd want anything except you?"

Miranda smiled.

"That was the right answer."

Once we were in Miranda's room and she'd locked the door, she said she had to use the bathroom. I sat down in a chair and waited for her to come out. When she did, she was wearing only a black lace bra and black lace panties. The contrast between her soft, pale skin and the black lace was beautiful and erotic all at the same time.

"Wow, Miranda. I knew you were a pretty woman, but now..."

She grinned at me.

"So, you're not having second thoughts?"

I put my arms around her.

"The only second thoughts I've ever had about you was when I let you get away in Chicago."

Miranda smiled as she unbuttoned my shirt.

"Well, I'm not going to go anywhere tonight."

That night, for the first time I could remember, I forgot about everything in my world except Miranda's soft breasts in my hands and the little moans she made when I stroked her nipples. I forgot about everything when I cupped her mound and then stroked the soft, hair-fringed lips between her thighs. My world became the woman on the bed beside me and the way she gently stroked my cock and kissed me every time I touched her.

I was in a sort of mental tunnel where everything was dark except for the pale-skinned soft woman stroking my cock and rocking her hips into the finger I had inside her entrance. The sounds of the city traffic outside faded into nothing and were replaced by her little moans and catches of breath. When Miranda whispered, "I can't wait any longer. I'm ready now", we might as well have been the only two people on the planet. Miranda had consumed my mind with the satin smooth thighs that moved over my body and the breasts she dangled in my face as she straddled me.

She reached between us, found my cock, and moved it up and down between her wet, slippery/sticky lips, then pushed it back and raised her body up. I felt the warmth of her soft lips wrapping around my cock head, then the slight resistance of her entrance, and then the exquisite sight and feeling of Miranda impaling herself on my rigid cock.

She caught her breath, then held it as she slowly worked her hips from sided to side until she was sitting on my thighs. Once she was there, she leaned forward and kissed me. Her little tongue slipped into my mouth, found mine, and I'm sure she felt the same shivering shock that raced down my spine. I know she rocked her hips a little and I know that I groaned.

From then on, we were two become one, just one body striving to achieve the intense pleasure only making love with someone you care deeply for can give. We were just one body feeling the tensions build slowly, then a little faster, and then at a pace that took away any control we had over our bodies. Miranda threw her head back, moaned, and slammed her body down over my cock, and I met that slam with an upward thrust that made us both gasp.

As my cock sank deep inside her grasping passage, Miranda cried out, then caught herself on her arms as her hips began rocking her passage over my spurting cock. She was still doing that when she collapsed on my chest and buried her face in my neck and shoulder.

I was still feeling little contractions around my cock when Miranda whispered in my ear, "I don't think I can give this up, not after what just happened."

I stroked her hip, then squeezed it gently.

"I know what you mean. I don't know how we'll arrange it, but I don't want this to be the last time either."

Miranda squeezed my softening cock enough it slipped out of her. She giggled.

"I'm going to have to fix you so you get hard again."

I chuckled.

"You don't have to do anything except just lay on my chest for that to happen. It's not gonna take long."

Miranda kissed my neck.

"What do you suppose we could do until that happens?"

"I don't know. What would you like?"

Miranda raised up and poked her right nipple in my face.

"I'd like some more of what you did before."

I pinched her nipple between my teeth and grinned when she caught her breath and sagged down into her arms.

"You just tell me when you're ready for more."

Miranda was ready for more again that night and again the next morning. If she hadn't had to checkout by eleven, I'd have given her more again after lunch. The second time was even better than the first, and the next morning...well, let's just say we stayed in bed until ten because we didn't want to separate.

For six months, we tried juggling our schedules so we could meet, but that wasn't working very well. I was making a trip to the corporate offices at least twice a month and Miranda was holding seminars and workshops all over the US. We managed to spend most weekends together, but that was never really enough. By spring, we decided we had to make it permanent or go crazy.

Miranda left two weeks open in her June schedule, and I scheduled two weeks of vacation for the same time. We didn't go overboard. We were married the first Sunday of that two weeks and spent our honeymoon on the beach in Miami. Miranda spent all day teasing me in her little bikini's and then took me to that special place where we became one every night.

When we got back, Miranda leased an office in Springfield and moved into my house. Now, her seminars are held at one of the better hotels in Springfield and she's home every night. We're usually tired on week nights, but we make up for it on the weekends.

Just last Saturday night after we finished dinner, Miranda picked up a bottle of ketchup and smiled.

"I have a bottle of wine. Wanna come up to my room?"

I laughed.

"Miranda, that's a bottle of ketchup."

She grinned.

"That's true, but it's the thought that counts, isn't it?"

"And just what thoughts are you having?"

Miranda pulled off her top.

"Oh, I thought we might get naked and see if we can break our record."

Well, our record for one night is two for me and three for her. I thought she'd passed out after the third orgasm, but she was just resting, or so she said. I wasn't sure.

"Are you sure you can handle more than three?"

Miranda tossed her bra at me and then lifted up her breasts.

"I don't know, but I know it'll be fun finding out."

Well, she managed three again before she fell asleep on me. I got to feel her riding my cock for the last two. I figure that's doing pretty well. I know, like Miranda says, it's always fun.