Rewarded Ch. 06

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Back to work.
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Part 6 of the 21 part series

Updated 06/16/2023
Created 05/28/2021
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Murakami
Murakami
242 Followers

This work is inspired by "The Reward" by Azil.

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My family came home about an hour after I finished with the Prince family clones. Charlie greeted me with a chaste kiss on the cheek. She was tired from driving, and still a touch annoyed with me for backing out of the trip, but she commented on how good a job I had done (having Power) clean up the place while she was away. I had made spaghetti and meatballs, about the limit of my repertoire, which everyone quickly set about consuming.

I gave Charlie an edited version of the weekend: I mentioned walking around the park (without the cave), getting ice cream (without mentioning Lisa), watching movies, etc. I worked in an edited account of my hookup with Beth, telling her she came over for a swim and we got to talking and were now friends.

"Hey dad, can I have some friends over to use the pool after school?" my daughter Sarah asked at one point during dinner, acting like the pool hadn't just appeared while she was gone.

"As long as it doesn't become some crazy party," I replied after a second, pleased that the pool being normal thing had taken.

"Not everything teenagers do is a party," she replied, rolling her eyes and returning to her food.

Having spent several hours in the back of a car and before that a weekend around relatives, neither of my kids were eager to hang around after dinner. I noticed my son John heading up to his room without his usual practice in the back yard, then realized I had inadvertently gotten rid of his practice space; where there had been a large flat grassy area perfect for soccer practice, there was now just a pool. I quickly changed it so the old yard was just next to the pool, not caring this meant the yard was now much larger than should be able to fit on the property. Keeping the ball out of the pool wouldn't hurt his handling skills. He was in mid stride up the stairs when he, for lack of a better word, 'glitched', suddenly appearing at the back door holding a soccer ball. I was a bit disconcerted, realizing I had just altered history by mistake. It was nothing major so I wasn't worried, but I made a mental note to Power to warn me about that.

After dinner, Charlie settled into the living room with a book on the recliner, while I idly flipped through channels. Charlie had her black hair cut very short, because she didn't like having to worry about it. She dressed fairly basically, her normal outfit consisted of a loose blouse and pants theses days, though she had once been into dresses when she was younger. I thought she had aged well, but I think she was self conscious about her body (though she never told me that), as I had noticed her shifting toward looser clothing after her pregnancy. At 47, she looked the quintessential suburban mom, and acted the part. I had gone on such a sex binger over the weekend because we didn't have much of a sex life. Our relationship had never been about the physical, and after the kids it had all but dried up completely. Charlie was just the kind of person who didn't like sex. I tried to make her feel good, but she was not very responsive, nor was she at all experimental.

She was my perfect match in every other area, so I was not one to complain, but especially after this weekend I had to admit I wished there was more in the sexual arena between us. I considered changing that up, imagining her younger and more interested in sex, but I couldn't think of a way to do that without fundamentally changing her, so she remained lost in her book, oblivious to my musings. On the other hand, if she didn't want to be involved anyway, she couldn't really say anything about me having as much sex as I wanted elsewhere, I justified.

The following morning was business as usual. Everyone got up, got breakfast, the kids got going to school. I kissed Charlie on the way out of the house. I still hadn't decided what I wanted to do about work, so I went as usual.

As I was backing out of the driveway, I saw Mike also pulling out. Beth was waving goodbye to him. She waved to me too as she saw me waiting for Mike to clear the way. Even in a casual outfit, just jeans and a shirt, she looked good... and then she pulled up her shirt and flashed me her bra-clad chest quickly, before turning to head back inside. I did a double take, then prepared to finish pulling out as I didn't want to be late, when I remembered that was not a problem.

I thought about how I was trying to 'return to normal' after the weekend, how I had just had several days full of sex, how I had just fucked Beth for the second time in two days yesterday... but I was horny again, and it wouldn't hurt anything with time frozen... Rather than turning to go down the street, I kept backing up (the driveways were directly opposite each other) and pulled into her driveway.

Beth had been about to go inside, but came back over and knocked on my window with a bemused look on her face as I pulled to a stop. "Can I help you?" she asked when I rolled down the window. I gave her chest the side eye. "See something you like?" she asked, leaning in and playing with her shirt, pulling it taut to outline her bra-clad breasts.

"I thought you might need some help yourself," I replied. "You were sending up the Beth signal, after all," I joked. "Is now a good time?"

Within a minute I was out of the car and she was slammed against the side of it giving me a deep kiss and running her hands down my back. She grabbed my ass and pulled me in, humping me. "I know you probably don't have much time," she said, "so let's see how fast you can get me off."

Without caring about any cars or people that happened to be passing by, she quickly stripped off her blouse and pants, then doffed her bra and panties rapidly, naked in record time, her clothing strewn about the driveway without a care. I matched her speed, almost worrying about wrinkling my suit, but then realizing I could just fix it later. She hopped up to sit on the hood (I made sure it wouldn't be uncomfortable), which made her breasts bounce enticingly, then lay on her back, legs over the side, cunt at the perfect height. "I need you so much," she moaned, rubbing her clit with one hand while working her boobs with the other, trying to get herself wet quickly. "It's all I can think about when you aren't around."

I added my fingers, thrusting gently into her, also taking a breast in my mouth. She didn't need much foreplay, and a minute later I was thrusting between her wide splayed legs. She levered herself up and kissed my ear. "Thank you for coming back for me," she said. "When I saw you this morning, I was just going to give you a little show, then go inside and get myself off imagining you doing this," she added, thrusting up at me for emphasis. "Well maybe noooot exactly this... But nothing AHHHH... beats the real thing!" She thought we had to hurry and was continuing to push herself up at me, trying to get us both off as quickly as possible, urging me to go faster.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Charlie walk out to her car and get in, the sight of us across the road fucking on my car of no consequence. She was staring right at us in her mirror as she backed out and turned to drive to work, not so much as glancing our way. Beth could have easily seen her, but didn't let up her fucking for one instant. I wasn't sure how I felt about that, but rather than dwell on it, I pulled out of Beth, to her disappointment, and pulled her down off the car, then got on the hood myself, my cock hard and proudly thrust upwards.

"Get on me," I told her. I've always loved the sight of a woman inserting a cock into her cunt; I watched intently as she climbed up over me, lined me up, and sank down. She rapidly built up speed, again trying to rush toward an orgasm for the both of us. I let her, knowing I could just keep going anyway, and I reached up and grabbed her shaking boobs. I alternated between kneading them and pulling at her nipples, drawing pleased gasps from her.

Between playing with her tits and the speed she was riding me, it didn't take long before Beth reached orgasm. She came, shuddering on me, and I came too. I was still inside her as she rested on me, and she pulled up getting ready to get off me. As she reached the top of my dick, I instead reached up quickly and pulled her back down onto my still rock hard dick. She was shocked at the sudden penetration, but quickly got back into it, fucking back down on me again. As she got nearer to her second cum, she began to pound down harder and harder. I grabbed her hips and tried to match her strokes, but I mostly failed as my legs were hanging in midair, and instead just let her use me to fuck herself. After a few more thrusts she came again, and so did I, shooting another full load up into her, her full cunt spraying cum all over my car.

We lay their for a minute, hugging horizontally, then she reluctantly pulled herself off me and got down. She began gathering her clothing, purposefully bending from the waist to give me a nice view of her dripping pussy as she did. "You had better quit fucking around and get to work," she joked, heading back into the house with her clothes bundled in her arms, as I appreciated the sight of her naked, well fucked ass retreating from me.

She turned and gave me one last look at her body framed in the door as i lay there, and I responded by reaching down and jerking myself hoping to entice her back, but she shook her head and pointed down the road fiercely, setting her unrestrained boobs jiggling again, then closed the door. A second later I was pulling out of the driveway, perfectly clean and dressed, Charlie's car back in the driveway as it was back to the time I had originally left for everyone but me and Beth.

Any dreams of getting to work on time were thwarted, not because of the non-time I had spent with Beth, but a huge construction project that had started off of Pineview road, not far from my office. I was advancing a car length at a time, taking five minutes to go a block, fuming, when finally in frustration I yelled "Can't you all just MOVE!" And then, together, like a coordinated stunt, every car in front of me pulled to the side, and I found myself passing easily down the road.

I heard Power clear her throat as she appeared in the passenger seat. "Was that alright?" she asked. "You said not to act without explicit instruction, but I figured that this was what you would have wanted." We had just cleared the construction, which probably would have been at least 30 min without her help.

"Of course!" I replied, "It's just clearing traffic. Nothing big. Anticipate away." She nodded and vanished; I noticed all the lights in my path turning green. The rest of the way was the longest stretch of perfect traffic I had ever experienced. No lights, not one changing lanes, no need to slow down or speed up. I pulled into the parking lot only 10 min late. I walked into the office, expecting nothing much to be happening, a little lost in thought. Going 'back to normal' had lasted for less time than my morning commute, under half a day total, and I hadn't even made it out of my own driveway before I gave into temptation.

My musing on this topic was cut short by the scene that greeted me. People were running around, making frantic phone calls, shouting down other people, and generally panicking. I grabbed Mathew, a junior account rep, as he tried to rush past me. "What the hell is going on?" I asked.

"Marianne did it again," he said simply, and then took off, leaving me flabbergasted.

Marianne O'Connor, account exec, had been behind the earlier issue that had resulted in all our holidays being ruined. It wasn't even technically normal business hours yet and she had thrown the office into turmoil again!?!? I had to grab several other rushed staff members before I had the full story, delivered one rushed sentence at a time.

Marianne had been at an early meeting (several of our clients had to meet before business hours, so we had a rotating schedule to come in early to meet with them), and told the client's director of advertising that his store's use of big-busted models was demeaning to women, and not something our agency should be party to. They thought this meant we were breaking our contract, which got around to other clients who had also been in the office for meetings thanks to the resultant yelling (and then via phone/text to some others). In addition to trying to keep from losing the original client, various people were making phone calls trying to assure other clients that this was all a big misunderstanding, we were not making some sudden social justice move, we wouldn't be reneging on our contracts, and they didn't need to worry about their work with us. The cherry on top was that it wasn't even an account she was assigned to; she had just inserted herself into the meeting with the client to begin with.

I didn't even make into my office before I was grabbed and pulled inside the office of Michelle Hawks, our VP. She slammed the door closed in frustration to block out the chaos as I put my briefcase down. "Tom, we've got to get rid of her!" she stated, clearly fuming, slamming her desk for emphasis. "The damn store's business is selling sexy lingerie! Of course they're going to use models with big boobs," she continued, gesticulating wildly. "I tried talking some sense into her. I told her to worry about her own accounts. She had the nerve to accuse me of being misogynistic!" she added, dropping into her chair heavily and rubbing her temples. "This can't go on. We need to talk to Mark."

Mark Vincent was the agency president. His wife died five years ago, and he was desperate not to retire alone, despite Michelle actually running most things these days. We all felt for him, which is why even as she took on more and more of his work, Michelle had never tried to force him out (it helped he wasn't oblivious to how much she was doing, and at this point she was making more than he did). This in itself wasn't really a problem, as Mark was at least not a nuisance, and occasionally still useful for his connections. The issue that kept coming up was that Marianne was the orphaned daughter of one of his early business associates, and so he made excuse after excuse to not fire her and still technically had the authority to prevent it.

Michelle and I went to Mark's office, and half an hour later came out with the exact results expected: he'd made more excuses, he'd promised to think about it, he'd said we were making a big deal out of nothing, that the account wasn't that important anyway (it was, and anyway the fallout from it with our other clients might become an even bigger headache), and a dozen other things. What he hadn't done was agree to fire her or even to demote her (not ideal but better than nothing), which was the only long term solution. And this was the second nearly identical conversation in less than a week.

"That's it," Michelle said when we got back to her office, messaging the bridge of her nose. "I like Mark, but this is going to drown the entire agency if it continues," she continued, sitting down heavily. "I hate to say this, but we've got to get everybody together and force a vote to remove."

"Look, I have no doubt we can muster the votes," I replied, understanding her point but nonetheless distressed about what it would do to Mark. "If it comes to that, I'll be a yes vote, but there has to be another way." Before this weekend, there really might not have been, but now I could engineer something. Once again, so much for not using my powers. "We have to fix this for good this time," I continued. "Please give me until the end of the day to find another solution. It will take at least until lunch to untangle this mess anyway, and we don't need to pile more on top of what's already going on. If I can't find a fix by then, we'll call a vote."

She looked at me dubiously for a second, but I stared her down. "Ok, fine, but no excuses from you later," she said firmly. "I don't want this anymore than you do, but this WILL be handled by end of day, one way or another," she said with finality. There was a knock on the door. "Speaking of chaos," she mumbled. "Come in!" she yelled, and I barely made it out through the sudden surge of junior staff who had been waiting for her.

Normally I would have been buried in staff as well, but I made everyone not notice I was AWOL (mentally apologizing to the managers below me who would now be handling everything) and went to a nearby restaurant to come up with a plan. There as no way I could think with all that going on, even with my door closed. I had to admit that I hadn't yet decided if I would keep the working or not, but I really liked everyone, and with all this going on I would feel bad leaving things like this. So I put off any decisions until this was handled.

"I'll have a double cheeseburger deluxe with fries, a cup of coffee, and a blowjob," I told the waitress when she came. The waitress was a pretty blond with a nametag that read 'Diana' pinned to her nice bosom, though I gave her only a passing glance, and seemed to be working the morning shift alone. I wasn't looking for anything fancy, so I didn't pay much more attention to her. She put the order in and came back quickly, putting the coffee in front of me, then simultaneously crawled under the table to unzip my pants and begin blowing me, and walked away to cover her other tables, as I watched her stretch and snap apart as I gave her a second body for a while, since I didn't want to inconvenience the other customers. I figured I could work out a plan while getting off, and if not then over my sandwich.

I knew Mark didn't want to fire her out of respect for the memory of her mother, and he didn't want to retire to go because he was afraid he'd be lonely; all his plans for spending time with his wife had died with her, so he was looking at an empty house and nothing to do if he retired. Marianne could be eliminated by tossing her over a cliff as far as I was concerned. As I came in Diana's mouth, I had an idea. Two birds with one stone: Marianne could be his new, devoted, loving young wife, whom he could retire to spend time with! She was only 25, but I figured I could just set Mark back to 30 and he wouldn't mind (not that he or anyone would notice), and giving him a few extra years wasn't a horrible retirement gift. Marianne's personality wasn't great, and she didn't really like Mark, but that could be adjusted. I though hard on it, but I found I didn't have many qualms about about basically making Marianne over into a new person. She was a lousy human being and the world would be better off with a nicer version of her. Maybe 'absolute power' was corrupting me a little bit.

Diana kept sucking me through my orgasm since I never told her to stop, as she bustled past the table to help other customers. I leaned back in the seat, and let Diana clean off my dick, then lightly pushed her off me. She crawled out from under the table and thanked me for my cum. I noticed her mouth had overflowed a bit and some of it was currently soaking her shirt. I then went back to finalizing my plan while she left to get my cheeseburger, not at all confused when she sidled up beside herself at the order window to grab my order still dripping cum as her other self handled another table.

She returned a few minutes later with my food. "Here's your sandwich, sir. Is there anything else I could do for you?" she asked.

"Just have a seat and jill off for now," I put in, figuring I would think of something in a minute. She sat on the other side of the booth, hiking her skirt up, and reaching under to start masturbating with one hand while fondling her clothed boobs with the other through her cum soaked top. With the table in the way I couldn't see much, though. "Get up on the table please," I said. She levered herself into a kneeling position on the table (it wobbled dangerously so I had Power reinforce it), spread her legs, pulled aside her panties, and resumed fingering herself. "Take off your blouse and bra and play with your tits," I added to her; she looked to have a nice set and I figured this would make the view even better. She opened her shirt and pulled off her bra, then got back to fondling and fingering.

Murakami
Murakami
242 Followers