Thanksgiving

"I don't know, Tyler," I expressed as I passed the mashed potatoes across to him. "He seems kinda like a dick."

"Look," he said. "He's a multimillionaire, right? So what does he need to do with all that money?"

"Keep it flowing," asked Lynn quickly before digging into her pie.

"Exactly right," her father said, pointing at her with a fork full of green beans. "He buys real estate, puts an idea in there, makes a bunch of jobs, pays them well, and moves on to the next idea to put in the next building. He's not a schmuck so much as a guy that doesn't have time to fuck around while moving a lot of money."

"Ok that I get," I replied as I tried not to stare at Lynn savoring the fifth bite in her mouth. "I guess I just don't agree with some of his leadership decisions. Plus I don't know that I feel good about taking our new hire that far out so soon. She can do the job remotely from here."

_ _ _ _

I had gotten my wish. I asked for a secretary, and within a week I was doing interviews. I saw Lynn's name come across my morning list and I almost didn't have to do one. I knew I'd hire her and I knew it would be her because Tyler trained her for high school journalism and she was in college for Business Management and Accounting. There were plenty of other really good candidates, but they lacked a serious quality that I looked for in everyone on my team: a desire to stay and grow with us. I knew that if she was applying she wanted to grow to take over the company. Add that in with already knowing her, her experience, and a handful of other facts and it was really just a matter of going through the steps.

"Go home, Lynn," I insisted. "I'll finish up here and be right behind you."

"You sure," she asked. "I can run these down the hall real quick and get you outta here with enough time to shower before cooking."

"No," I insisted. "You went above and beyond today and you still have your second draft to start for Mrs. Moore's class. Jordan has been helping all week so a lot of the food is already done."

"Alright, Mr. B," she sighed. She picked up my sticky pad, wrote a note, and ripped it off. "Don't forget to stop and see John today. I picked up a card and a preroll to take to him."

"You're awesome," I said as I tapped a packet of papers to align and ready them for a paperclip. Lynn set my pad back in the pencil holder, picked up her gear, and left the office.

"Happy Thanksgiving, Stacy," she said to my top editor before closing the door.

"Happy Thanksgiving, Lynn," he replied as the door closed. He looked back at me. "Betta watch out. That girl gonna be runnin' this place someday."

"She just started, man," I replied as I heard my phone ding. "She hasn't even seen us on a bad day, yet."

"Fair point," he chuckled. "Butchu know she got it. Don't know why you didn't hire her to start with. Coulda saved us a lot of trouble with Tracy."

"She wanted girls and Goth music when we hired Tracy, not a job," I said flatly as I picked up my phone and unlocked it. It was a black and white picture of Lynn from her nose down just outside my office door. Her mouth was open and her tongue was out. The sticky note she held up to her cheek said -don't take too long at John's place, Daddy-. "She sure do got it tho, Stacy."

"Mmhmm. You know what I'm talkin' 'bout." I raised my eyebrow at him. "You ain't careful she gon' have all us runnin' errands and gettin' HER coffee."

"Heh, you might be right about that," I chuckled as I locked my phone. "She's a smart girl. Knows her audience. Real go-getter."

"Mhmm," he said again. "Aight bro I'm out."

"Cool man," I said happily. "You two coming over?"

"Naw," he said as he picked up his gear and turned to me. "He wants shrimp so we goin' to Red Lobster and doin' movie night."

"Right on, man," we fist-bumped. "Thanks for coming in today. Give him my love and enjoy the rest of your Thanksgiving."

"You too, bro," he nodded. "See you tomorrow."

Stacy left the office, I finished up, locked up, and was right behind him. After making sure old man John was fed, smoked, and his oxygen was still working I headed home.

I walked in the front door and was immediately greeted by the hot smell of well-seasoned meat just waiting to be finished and devoured. This was NOT good.

Tyler and his plus one were flying in from Atlanta. Jordan was out fixing a crisis with one of her companies. Jessica had 3 on-campus classes all at buildings across town from each other. Erika was coming in late after being with her folks on Thanksgiving. Stacy and his other weren't coming. And the rest of the partners were out of state with family.

Not only did I have time on my hands now because I smelled my one and only part in the food making process almost done...

I was alone.. with Lynn.

I hung my coat, proceeded to the kitchen, and completely fell in love with Thanksgiving as my eyes were filled with the sight of a hot and tiny 22-year-old blonde named Lynn wearing nothing but a ponytail and my apron. She was bent over at the waist pouring steamy chicken broth from a ladle onto the turkey; her hot pink pie on display for anyone that walked in the door. I couldn't believe my eyes. She pushed the turkey back into the oven and closed the door as she stood straight up.

"Hey, Daddy," she said casually as she turned to look at me. She threw the one hot mitt she wore on the counter. "Not long now. Should be done about the time my Dad's plane lands."

"Lynn," I started, somewhere between confused and completely enthralled. "What is this?"

"This," she began confidently, "is your baby girl helping with the feast."

"Well, I see that," I said. "But why? What are you after, little girl?"

"Nothing," she said cutely.

"Uh-huh."

"Really..." she brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Can't a girl just do a nice thing for her Daddy?"

"You're not a nice girl," I raised my eyebrow. "You know how to be a good girl, but most of the time you're just a brat."

She bit her lip.

"This," I said playfully as I pointed around her choice of hairstyle and undress. "Not nice."

She tried not to smile as I approached her.

"Freeing up my time," I continued as I pointed at the oven. "A little selfish."

She tried to pretend to feel guilty.

"Wearing my apron," I said lowly as I stopped just inches in front of her at the edge of the table. Her eyes lowered. She knew I didn't like anyone wearing my homemade apron.

"Does it look ok," she asked nervously as she played with something in the pockets.

"It looks amazing," I reassured. "But you know better."

She smiled as she shifted around nervously.

"What," I began sternly as I raised my finger to a wet spot by the neck strap, "is that, Lynn?"

She mumbled something in response.

"Excuse me?"

"I'm sorry, Daddy I didn't mean to," she pleaded with me. "I cleaned it off I promise."

"Lynndell Alice Miller what did you get on my apron," I finally demanded.

"Whipped topping," she finally confessed clearly.

"Ok," I sighed before turning and walking to the sink. I looked back at her. "What happened?"

"Well..." she began shyly with her head down. "I had some time after work and I knew you had a busy day and I wanted to make it better."

"The apron, Lynn," I insisted. "You can wear my shirts you can wear my ties. Nobody... wears the apron... that my late Grandmother made for me to wear when I cooked with her. How.. did you get.. whipped topping.. on my apron?"

"Slicing the pumpkin pie."

"Slicing the pumpkin pie," I repeated.

She folded her hands into each other as she nodded her head and avoided eye contact.

"Take it off," I commanded.

She wasted no time in untying my apron and laying it across the table as I walked to the fridge. I opened the doors, removed a slice of pumpkin pie, and returned to her naked side at the table. She shifted around nervously.

"Turn around," I said flatly before placing the pie on the table. "Bend over."

She bent at the waist and lowered her face to the whipping-topped pie slice and I planted a hard swat on her tiny, bare ass. My hand covered an entire cheek and left a perfect red outline.

"I'm sorry, Daddy," she whimpered.

I swatted her again on the other cheek. The smack echoed in the kitchen and another perfect handprint was left ablaze on her skin. She whimpered again, trying to stay silent.

"Stay," I commanded. "I don't want you moving an inch from that pie."

Her attention focused on the slice in front of her face as I knelt down behind her. Her body flattened on the table as I spread her feet further apart. I ran my hand up her soaked thigh and she shook at my touch. My fingers met her dripping, pink lips and I almost couldn't help myself. I slid my middle finger back and forth across her juicy folds before stopping at the cavity entrance. She looked back at me and I swatted her again.

"Not an inch, Lynn," I roughly reminded her. She squeaked and diverted her attention back to the pie.

I pushed two fingers inside her and gently massaged her walls with a slow, but firm wave motion. I bicycled my fingers insider her and she began to squirm around. I crossed my fingers back and forth as I slid them in and out and she couldn't take it anymore.

"I'm sorry, Daddy," she begged without moving. "I'll be a good girl."

I pulled my fingers out and rubbed her soft lips back and forth; circling her little bean with each pass. She tried to hold back a fitful moan and I took that as my sign to weld my face to her young body. I wasted no time as I circled my tongue around her moist folds and lapped up her juices. Her moans got louder as I stabbed my tongue in and out of her tight cavity and traced the runic alphabet into her. My fingers rubbed circles around her clit as her entire body began to shake. I knew she was close, so I stopped.

"But... Daddy," she begged as I stood up. I swatted her ass again.

"Stop," I commanded. "Give me the slice."

She turned around to hand me the slice of pumpkin pie as I unzipped my slacks and reassumed her position with her chest flat against the table. I placed the slice on her lower back, pulled out my cock, and stroked it against her hot, dripping folds as I slid it back and forth against her. I covered my length with her flowing juices and I was done for as soon as she moaned. I slapped her swollen lips with my meat, pulled it up to aim it at the pumpkin pie, and let out a deep groan as I shot it, and my handprints with thick ropes of my hot cum.

"Stand up," I said as I put my cock away and picked up the pie slice. She turned to face me. "Never wear my apron again, do you understand?"

"Yes, Daddy," she nodded with a pouty, apologetic tone.

"Good," I replied. "Now... be a good girl at dinner, finish all of your desserts, and I'll finish your pie when everyone leaves."

_ _ _ _

"Look," replied Tyler. "You don't have to like the guy. We need to come up from what Jace stole and this guy is paying us big money for this. I'd like to have our best guy on the job."

"Tyler. I get what you're saying," I said as I watched Lynn approach the final bites of her pie. "I really do, but it's deeper than that."

"Dude," he finally said firmly as he pushed his empty plate away. "Don't make this hard. Just go in, get a few corner shots, an ariel shot, a few with Lynn on the gym equipment, and bail."

"Jordan.. Help me out here," I pleaded with my wife.

"You know what you need, Baby," she piped up. "A nice vacation. This last quarter hasn't been good to you what with Tracy leaving and all that with Jace. Why don't you take Jessica as well? She can help out and you can all spend the rest of the time on the Island unwinding after the shoot. It'll be good for you."