tagIllustratedSandra Comes To The Rescue

Sandra Comes To The Rescue

byRomanCEisdead2©

The story is accompanied by an original piece of artwork. This is a facsimile of one of my own drawings, produced with graphite on two-ply Bristol.

Chapter 1



Dixon's Engineering was a relatively small concern, employing well under a hundred people. That said; the Company had been in existence in the town for over fifty years. The owner, Daniel Dixon had inherited the business from his father. He had always been brought up to take on the role and once he had obtained a University degree he went straight into the business.

For nearly twenty years Dan had been assisted by his secretary Sandra. She had never married, had no children and had only brief liaisons, all of which had occurred some years earlier. Now she was 45 and hadn't dated anyone for more than thirty six months. It's not that she wasn't interested in men; it's just that she was in love with her boss. He didn't know about it of course, and she wouldn't dream of admitting as much. She wished that it was otherwise, but Dan treated her so very well and always acted in a completely gentlemanly and professional manner and she didn't want to spoil their relationship.

Dan, for his part, had been divorced ten years before and had not been involved with anyone since. He wasn't handsome in the classical sense, but had a full head of hair that was greying at the sides and carried himself with an air of confidence that was attractive to women.

While he was married, Dan didn't look at Sandra in any way other than as a competent secretary – even though she had the most amazing blue eyes and the sort of figure that men would die for. But as the marriage broke down, he began to see her for the woman she was; intelligent, highly competent and efficient, loyal and hard working, always prepared to give up her time for the company and, he would have to admit, very attractive. In fact she looked very sexy indeed sometimes.



Common sense told Dan that he wouldn't be able to get another secretary as good as Sandra and he made sure that he kept her by not coming on to her. It was very difficult at first, but eventually he learned how to curb his feelings. He made sure that she was well paid, and even gave her the title of Personal Assistant in order to boost her earnings to a level that would make it hard for her to find a position elsewhere in the same salary bracket.

Although the business had thrived throughout its existence, in recent times it had been going through a rough patch. There wasn't a lot of work to go round and local rivals had been cutting their prices in competition.

Finally, it all came down to a local government contract; Dixon's had been retained in his father's time and had always done good work supplying trailer and vehicle parts and doing repairs on existing equipment. The work in itself was not worth a great deal of money, but it was enough to keep the business ticking over and without it they would lose valuable contacts that might provide inroads to other local authorities.

Bob Rossington was the officer in charge of awarding the contract and, having received competitive tenders had arranged a meeting with Dan for 10am on a Tuesday morning.

Rossington had been recently hired by the council with a view to cutting spending, something he had a reputation for doing in previous positions. His real talent, however, was for feathering his own nest. He never went for the cheapest tender, but managed to agree that the next best would drop their price to match – and donate the difference to him.

Five minutes after the meeting was due to start, Bob walked into Sandra's office. She had been told to show him through immediately and within seconds he was shaking hands with Dan. Sandra immediately went to fetch coffee and biscuits and returned with them on a tray.

Sandra didn't like Rossington on sight. He seemed to look at her in a way that made her feel dirty. When he spoke to her his eyes seemed to take in more than just her face. She felt as though she was standing naked in front of him.

On the way out of Dan's office, the door failed to close properly and when she sat back down at her desk Sandra realised that she could hear the men's conversation.

"Well, Mr. Dixon… or may I call you Dan?" said Rossington.

"Please do, Mr. Rossington."

"First of all, I'd just like to say that the council have always been very pleased with the work that Dixon's have done for us. However, as you are no doubt aware, we have a duty to the tax payer to reduce overheads, whilst at the same time improving services."

"Of course," interrupted Dan. "An aim that I'm sure we all consider highly commendable."

"Yes, well, be that as it may. We've had a number of tenders, most of which have now been excluded, leaving us with two; yours and Thompson's of Castlewaite."

Rossington paused for effect before continuing, "Unfortunately, Thompson's have undercut you."

Dan's world felt as though it was exploding apart. This was news of the worst kind and could ultimately mean the end of the Company.

As casually as possible, he said, "Was there much of a difference?"

"Strictly speaking, no; it was a matter of £10,000 or so. But after all, money is money."

Dan clutched at the only straw he could find. "But what about the fact that we've given such good service for so long? We've been committed to the council for nearly twenty five years and always given it our highest priority. Isn't there a possibility of them showing us a little loyalty in return? As you said yourself, you've always been happy with our work."

"Yes, well, what you say does make some sense, but in a way my hands are tied."

The look on Dan's face told Rossington everything he wanted to know. Dixon's were desperate; now he could he could turn the screw.

"Tell me something Dan; would you be able to match Thompson's price?"

Dixon thought about it for a moment; they would still be able to make a (slightly reduced) profit, but more importantly they would still be in business and able to look for new contracts.

"I… think that would be possible," he said carefully.

"Well, that certainly gives me food for thought. I think I'll have to go away and have a think about it." He stood up and held out his hand to Dan, who shook it.

"I'll come back a little later. Perhaps you can work out what happens to the difference while I'm gone?"

Dan watched him go and stood looking perplexed. Sandra came in and closed the door behind her. "Well?" she asked.

He told her everything. Fortunately she had already overheard the entire conversation, so by the time he had finished she already knew he had missed the point.

"Mr. Dixon… Dan, Rossington's on the make."

"What? You're joking! He's a local government officer, he can't do that!"

"Well he is. He expects you to still charge the council the amount that you originally quoted in the tender and then give him the difference."

Dan stood open-mouthed. At first he couldn't believe what he was hearing, but gradually the accuracy of Sandra's interpretation became clear to him.

"I need to get some cash," he mumbled. He looked earnestly at Sandra and told her, "Look it's going to take me a couple of hours to get that kind of money together. I'll have to pick it up from my own personal accounts. Stay here and wait for him. If he comes back, tell him I won't be long."

He rushed out of the door and left Sandra alone, waiting for Bob Rossington to return.

*****

Chapter 2



Much to Sandra's surprise, Rossington returned early.

"Hello again Mrs. Staines… Sandra isn't it?"

"That's right Mr. Rossington. Mr. Dixon had to nip out for a little while, but will be back shortly. Perhaps you'd like to wait in his office?" She led the way through and saw him seated on the sofa.

"Would you like some coffee while you're waiting Mr. Rossington?"

"That would be nice. Perhaps you would like to join me?"

Sandra didn't know how long she was going to have to entertain Bob Rossington, but it was going to take all of her social skills. When she returned with the coffees she sat down next to him and attempted to engage him in conversation.

By the time he had finished his drink, they seemed to be getting on well. She laughed at his jokes and he seemed to be enjoying her company. Then, as he chuckled with glee at one of the more risqué tales from her time at Dixon's, he placed his hand on her knee. It was only for a fleeting second, but it sent a shiver of disgust through her. She ignored the act until it happened a second time. In order to avoid a third contact she suggested attempting to contact Mr. Dixon on his mobile.

Sandra walked to the desk and picked up the telephone. All the time she imagined that Rossington was admiring her rear. She was unaware of just how sexily it swayed and of how it was admired.

"I'm really sorry Sandra, but it's taking longer than I thought. Keep him talking will you? I'll be back as soon as I can," Dan told over his Motorola.

She replaced the receiver and turned back to face Bob. She could swear that he was looking at her breasts when she spoke to him, "I'm sorry Mr. Rossington, but Mr. Dixon got a bit held up. He's on his way and won't be very long."

Rossington looked at his watch. "I can't really wait much longer. It's a shame really, as I had hoped to be able to give the contract to Dixon's." He stood up to leave.

"Oh no! I mean… please just wait a little while longer? Perhaps I can interest you in a drink? Or perhaps you would like something a little stronger?"

In the back of Sandra's mind she recalled that Dan kept some old whisky in his cabinet. In conversation earlier Bob had admitted to being keen on single malt Scottish whiskies. She opened the door and reached in to retrieve the bottle. As soon as she held it up to show him, Rossington stopped in his tracks.

"Glenfarclas 30 Year Old? That's like gold dust!"

Sandra picked up an expensive cut glass tumbler and poured a generous measure.

"You won't want anything in it, will you?" She remembered someone (probably Dan) saying that you should never add anything to single malt – other than the original spring water.

Rossington held the glass up to the light. The colour was very dark, having been matured in sherry casks. The rich, almost spicy aroma tempted the lips to sip and taste the contents of the glass. He closed his eyes and savoured the flavour on his tongue. When he opened them again he wore a smile and his eyes seemed to sparkle.

He sat down and imbibed appreciatively. Sandra decided to sit down next to him again. She knew that Dan had saved the whisky for very, very special occasions, but she understood that she had to do something to stop Rossington from leaving. She hoped her boss would understand.

As Bob expounded upon the nectar he was experiencing, his hand lands upon Sandra's knee again. She tries to ignore it, but this time he begins to rub her leg a little. When she attempted to top his glass up he insisted that she join him and try the whisky herself. It occurred to her that at least she would be able to get away from his hand for a while in order to get a tumbler.

When she returned and sat back down, Bob allowed her to fill her own glass first and then his. Not being used to drinking, the extra-strong alcohol content began to have an immediate effect upon her. She began to feel slightly flushed as the liquid burned its way down her throat and into her stomach. Perhaps her judgement was becoming a little fuzzy, for when Rossington put his hand back on her knee she spoke aloud what she had been thinking.

"I'd rather you didn't do that Mr. Rossington. I don't like it."

A frown broke across Bob's face. "What? Putting my hand on your knee? But I do that all the time. I'm a very tactile person. It's in my nature. I don't mean anything by it." He stood up. "Perhaps I had better go after all."

"No!" she blurted. "No, I'm sorry, it was a misunderstanding. Please, don't go yet."

She poured them both another drink, which seemed to placate him momentarily. After all, he wasn't going to waste a glass of a whisky that costs over £100 a bottle. The effect the alcohol was having on Rossington was to make him incredibly horny and here he was, sitting talking to an incredibly attractive woman.

Sandra took hold of his hand and placed it back on her knee. Bob took this as a sign of encouragement, but aware of how she had just reacted simply held it there and didn't move for a while.

They resumed their conversation, but inevitably Bob's hand began to move a little higher as they talked.

Knowing that Dan was going to have this very important meeting today, Sandra had attempted to 'power-dress' and wore a dark two-piece blue suit, with an open-necked blouse beneath. She normally wore tights to the office, but on this occasion she went all out and wore seamed stockings and suspenders. Now she was worried what would happen if Bob's hand went any further and reached the lace tops.

She tried to slow him down or stop him, even re-charging his glass again, but inevitably he reached the soft material of her stocking top.

"Lace? That is so classy," he said. "May I see them? I'm sure they must look fabulous."

He had taken his hand away, and in Sandra's hazy mind she felt a little safer, so she inched the hem of her skirt up. Bob's eyes were glued to her legs and she hoped he wouldn't be able to see any further – her underwear was also made of fine lace and hid very little.

Bob had placed his glass down carefully on the nearby coffee table and now groaned when he saw a hint of creamy flesh above the stockings. His hands moved towards them.

"I'd better just check where Dan… Mr. Dixon has got to." She stood and walked to the desk, allowing her skirt to fall back down.

She picked up the handset, dialled and after a few seconds spoke. "Hello Mr. Dixon. It's me, Sandra."

"Sandra, is he still there?"

"Yes."

"Thank goodness! You've got to keep him there. It's taking longer than I hoped and I need more time, maybe as much as an hour. Do whatever you have to do to keep him there." The call ended suddenly.

Sandra made her way (slightly unsteadily) back to the sofa. She wasn't exactly drunk, but she was less than in total control. She sat down and smiled at Bob.

"He's on his way," she lied. "He shouldn't be very long now." She picked up the bottle and poured some more whisky into both glasses.

Bob downed the liquid in one go this time, not bothering to savour it. It merely emboldened him and he moved closer to Sandra. His hand was back on her leg and pushing up under her skirt.

"Mr. Rossington, stop it!" She realised that she might offend him and tried to lighten of her tone. "You're being so naughty!" she said with a smile.

"I just want to see those beautiful stocking tops again. There's something so incredibly attractive about a woman who wears them."

Sandra hadn't had a compliment like that in a very long time. Having now suppressed her previous dislike of Bob, she was beginning to enjoy his attention. She decided that it wouldn't hurt to let him see what he had already glimpsed before. She pulled her skirt up until he could see the clasps of her suspenders. He then placed the fingertips of his right hand on the soft fabric. He stroked gently on her right leg and then moved across to repeat the process on the other one.

The caresses felt really nice and she sat looking down, watching as the hand moved from one leg to the other. He stroked around to the outside of her leg and then moved to the inside of her thigh. Her legs were together, so she parted them slightly to allow him access. He moved back to the first leg and repeated his actions. Very slowly he moved towards the top until his fingertips touched the naked flesh.

By now Sandra's body had begun to bypass her conscious mind and she was thoroughly enjoying what was happening. Her eyes closed so that she didn't even see Bob use his free hand to push her skirt up higher. She did, however, hear his gasp as her thinly clad pussy came into view. The gauze-like material did little to hide the thick, dark pubic bush within, thus proving that she wasn't a true blonde. The hand slid straight up to the gusset. She tried to grab his wrist to prevent him touching her there, but it was too late; his digits were rubbing against her already moistened labia and when they made contact with the fleshy area of her clitoris she knew she was in trouble.

Ever since she was young, Sandra had known that she had a very sensitive clit. When she wanted to relieve herself, a couple of minutes of rubbing in that place would be enough. Now Bob was doing precisely what she only did in the privacy of her bedroom when alone – and he seemed to be aware of what it was doing to her.

Sandra opened her legs further as her orgasm approached. Bob's fingers slipped under the gusset and now he was able to probe a couple of fingers into her pussy, while continuing to stroke her clitoris with his thumb.

"Ah! Ohhhh! I'm coming," she told him. The waves washed over her, beginning from the centre of her stomach and surging out throughout the rest of her body.

It was a truly powerful orgasm and took her some time to recover her senses. When she did, she found herself looking at Bob's erect dick. Having not seen one for a while, her mouth dropped open. This was misinterpreted and the man pushed his cock to her lips. Before she could react, the head was already in Sandra's mouth.

She didn't know how she had gotten into this mess, but she simply had to keep Rossington in the office and if that meant giving the man a blowjob in order to save the company, then so be it. She wasn't very experienced at this, having only agreed to do it for one of her boyfriends in the past – the very last one, in fact. She wasn't quite as disgusted by the idea as she had been during her first experience. Jake had let her take her time and had warned her when he was about to explode. That way she could take his dick out of her mouth and finish him off with her hand. She assumed that Bob would do the same.

Having wrapped her hand around the base of the shaft, Sandra proceeded to push her mouth as far as she could down onto his cock. She bobbed and sucked, while rubbing in time with her actions. Her other hand cupped his balls. She did this not because she had been taught to, but because she was fascinated by Bob's testicles. They appeared to be smoothly shaven. Of course, this only added to his pleasure. Soon his hips were thrusting in time with her movements. She didn't like it when he held her head with both hands and tried to force himself further into her.

Bob's head flew back and he made a strangled sound as though he was straining to lift a heavy weight. Almost choking from the solid flesh trying to force its way into her throat, Sandra suddenly found her mouth being filled with a large amount of hot, salt-flavoured, creamy come.

When Bob let go of her head, his cock flopped out of her mouth and left a dribble of semen running down her chin. She absent-mindedly wiped it away with the back of her hand.

Rossington pushed his flaccid penis back into his trousers and sat back down next to Sandra.

"What I wouldn't give for a secretary like you. Dan Dixon is a very lucky man." He finished the whisky in his glass in one gulp and then looked at his watch and said, "I should have been back at the office ages ago." He made to stand up again but Sandra put her hand on his shoulder and held him down. He had to be made to stay. Her hand slipped back inside his still open fly. She was disappointed that there was no reaction.

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