Sales Weasel Run Amok

There was a knock less than a minute later. "Not now." Stacy told the door firmly, not caring who was on the other side. There was a pause before she heard soft footsteps departing.

She picked up the phone and called down to security to have the camera footage saved out and sent to hers and Mr. Dell's computers. It was a short conversation devoid of explanation.

It was another ten minutes before there was another knock at the door. She'd nervously nibbled through two granola bars by then but they were not sitting well on her unsettled stomach. Stacy was slow in answering. "Who's there?" she asked.

"Stacy? It's Tisa. Can I come in?"

Stacy closed her eyes and breathed deeply. Might as well get this over with. "Yeah." She answered. It was barely audible beyond the door but it opened and the woman slipped in, closing it quickly behind her.

It had been Tisa and Kyle that had first responded to her cries for help. She stood uncertainly in front of Stacy's cheap desk. Tisa always dressed nice; very professional. And Stacy was constantly jealous of her long, raven black hair that had the look of silk. But she was usually practical and a hard worker and Stacy got along well with her.

Neither woman knew what to say and there was a long silence as they studied each other. Stacy slowly realized that Tisa was nearly as disheveled as herself. Brows knitting together, she asked, "Tisa, what were you and Kyle doing in his office while everyone else was at Phil's party?"

The other woman blushed.

Stacy pushed herself back in her chair. "Oh, for crying out loud." Stacy said.

"Stacy..." Tisa started.

Mrs. Lancaster waved her hands, "No, no, it's none of my business. Who knows how things would have gone if you two hadn't been there."

Tisa's hands where knotted at her stomach, waves of uncertainty and compassion and guilt crossing her face. Stacy began to laugh softly, her shoulders convulsing but making little sound. Tisa at first thought she was crying and hesitantly moved closer to comfort her. Stacy's laughter grew in volume. "Are you okay?" Tisa asked.

Fighting down her hysteria, Stacy nodded and tried to speak. "I was just thinking that everyone is getting some except for poor Bruce. And he tries so hard!" She roared with laughter. It felt good.

*****

Stacy met Bruce in lobby as he was leaving. She had her purse and coat with her. He was wearing his and carried two stacked boxes. Steve and Kyle were still escorting him.

Bruce looked sullen at first but when he saw Stacy his face went rigid with hate. Steve and Kyle seemed to be enjoying their duty but became wary when they saw Mrs. Lancaster. "I want a word with him. Please." She said.

Reluctantly the two men passed Stacy and headed outside to await their charge... or Stacy's call for help.

The office manager and the sales weasel stood staring at each other. "What do you want, cunt?" He asked, attempting to find his bravado.

Stacy waited several heartbeats before answering. "With everything you did, there was only one thing that really, really made me mad." She said. "Care to guess what it was?"

"I can't imagine. All I ever wanted to do was show you a good time. You obviously need it." He smirked.

She responded with a phony laugh. "Ha, believe it or not, you're actually right for once. This nonsense about me 'needing' you and not being happy with my husband. That shit really pissed me off."

Having nothing to lose and being fundamentally an ass, Bruce's rejoinder was predictable. "Does the truth hurt that much?"

Stacy smiled with malice. "Bruce, you know nothing about me or Jared. So let me tell you about the man you never even met but presume to judge and ridicule."

She stepped close to him, pressing her body against the boxes in his hands. She did it partly to prove that she did not fear him and partly to let him see the intensity in her eyes. "Jared is a hundred times the man you are, Bruce." She told him, emphasizing his name with a hiss. "Not only is he kind and intelligent, he is the most fantastic lover I've ever even heard of."

Bruce stared at her, not knowing how to respond. "I dated guys like you. A couple, at least. I figured the big and cocky guys must be good in the sack." She shrugged. "They were fine. But they would just hump my hungry little snatch for five minutes and then shoot their wad. Half an hour later, they'd be ready to do it again. Me, naked and horny and these dipshits think a few pumps will do th job!"

The malice had gone out of voice for a moment but then it returned. "I just know that's the kind of 'man' you are" she continued, filling the word with sarcasm. "More of a little boy, really. A little boy with no control and no stam-in-a" she said, drawing the last word out.

"You have no idea what it's like for a woman in the mood for sex to get fucked for a few minutes and then be left wanting more. It's like giving a man dying of thirst a cupped hand full of water and then walking away. It's the most frustrating thing in the world."

"When it gets right down to it, Bruce, you're a sad and lonely little boy. I can tell by the way you talk and the way you treat women that you've never actually satisfied a female in your life. You're all about the hunt but you're pop-gun just can't get the job done."

Bruce had gone red in the face but there was something in Stacy's vaguely sensual delivery that muzzled any response he might have.

"My husband, on the other hand, is a real man. Oh Bruce, if you only knew. But you never will, will you? You'll never know what it feels like to have a woman fall asleep with her happy pussy still impaled on your hard dick after she's climaxed dozens of times. You'll never know what it's like to have a horny woman wake you up in the middle of the night knowing that you'll be able to fill her need. You will always be alone. Every woman who ever goes to bed with you will leave you for better things."

"Bruce, you really are a child. You see me behaving as a professional and think I'm frigid and frustrated. You think with your little boy dick and nothing else. You really don't understand the difference between work and play."

"I work hard, little boy. But I also play hard. If I ever lost my sanity and decided to bed you, I would fuck you dry and leave you gasping for mercy."

She bent very close to him now, her voice a mockery of an inviting whisper. "And then, I'd go home to Jared and get some actual satisfaction."

With that, she spun on a heel and walked quickly out of the building, daring him to come after her or to say a word. He heard her tell the fellas outside that she was taking the rest of the day off and then she was gone.

*****

Jared was surprised to find Stacy already at home when he returned from work. He was even more surprised to find her outside in ratty shorts and a sweatshirt getting an early start on turning over their small garden. They made mildly awkward small talk for a couple minutes before he went inside to start dinner. She joined him half an hour later after washing up and helped him put the finishing touches on the pork-chops and rice; fairly standard fare for the Lancasters.

Jared knew something was wrong. There was something that Stacy was trying to take her mind off of. Or to forget.

Jared both trusted and respected his wife. Whatever was bothering her was her business until she decided to share it with him at which point it would become their business. Or if she didn't then that was fine too.

She went ten days without giving him a wiggle or a come-hither look. It was the longest dry-spell to date in their marriage. When she did press herself to his body on that tenth night, she was unusually expressive of her love for him and her gratitude of his love for her.

Jared was a little concerned for her and was sorely tempted to ask what had happened... but in the end, he trusted her know her own thoughts and needs best.