The Girl with the Man with a Plan Ch. 03

I nodded. "I'll pick her up in the bar at two o'clock. She's yours until then. And every time you come back to PIT, for the life of our contract, you can have her for twenty-four hours, assuming you give me notice beforehand. No marks. No rough stuff. Otherwise, I don't care. She's all yours."

He sat back hard in his seat and looked at her. She had closed her eyes, and after I made that last statement, she'd given a soft little moan. I got the impression that he really wanted to tell me to go fuck myself, but we both knew he was well beyond the point of further resistance. He sighed and smiled softly. "Any suggestions?"

"As soon as you get her to your room, kiss her hard. She'll put her arms around your neck. I've programmed her to do that; so, you'll be able to keep the kiss going for a really long time. She'll lose herself that way. She'll become completely disoriented; entirely lost to her passion. I've never met another girl like her. So sweet on the outside and such an absolute slut on the in ...."

"Oh, my God!" Polly hissed. "Oh, no! Oh, please, no!" Her eyes flew open and she stared at me as if I had just thrown her off a cliff. "No no no no no!" She clenched her eyes shut and shuddered; then she started panting heavily. "No. No," she repeated softly.

"Well, THAT didn't take long," I commented. We both watched as she panted heavily for about ten more seconds. "Take your had out of your panties," I ordered.

She pulled her hand up and away from herself. I caught a whiff of her arousal, and I suspect they could each detect it, too. She was shaking and her breathing was ragged. "I ... I almost couldn't stop, sir. When you started talking about me that way ... it was suddenly just THERE, and I almost ... um ... I almost couldn't ...."

I slid toward the edge of my seat in preparation to get up. "You know what you have to do now; right, Polly?"

She took a deep steadying breath. "I need to hear you say it, sir. I need to hear you give me the order. We both need to hear you."

I smiled. "Polly, Mr. Rodriquez is your master for the next twenty-four hours. During that time, you will obey him as you would obey me. Do you understand?"

She was deeply flushed, and her chest rose and fell enticingly as she breathed deeply. "Yes, sir. I understand."

And I turned and walked out of the hotel. I went back to the office and worked late. Then, I drove home, though I stopped and picked up some fast food for dinner. I ate in front of the TV, then hit the sack and slept well. There was no reason to feel nervous. After all, at that point, there was nothing I could have done about it, anyway.

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The hotel bar was just off the main lobby area, and I walked in at precisely two o'clock. They were seated in a booth across from the bar itself; but when they saw me, he rose and offered his hand to help her up. Then, they remained together, waiting for me. She stood very close to him, the way she always stands with me when we are out together, and her hand sought his and held it, their fingers intertwined. Anyone in the room who happened to observe them would assume they were lovers.

I smiled calmly. "Hello, Polly," I greeted. I nodded toward him. "Rodriquez."

"Baxter," he replied, nodding. He took a breath. "I've spoken to my secretary in New York. Actually, Polly spoke to her as well, and for some length of time. They seem to have formed a long-distance friendship. Anyway, I've had the contract drawn up."

"I just came from the office. I've read it through and given it to our legal department for their input, but I don't foresee any problems at all. I hope we'll be working together for a long, long time."

He was taller than I am, and when Polly pulled on his arm, he dutifully leaned her way to listen to what she had to say. "Please, sir. May I go to my Master now?"

He smiled down at her almost lovingly. "After what you and I have experienced, I expect a proper goodbye kiss. Will you do that for me?"

She hadn't been blushing until now. "Oh ... yes sir. I would ... enjoy that."

They faced each other and she stood on her tiptoes in order to put her arms around his neck. His hands went to her waist, and he pulled her in tight. After their lips had been pressed together for ten seconds or so, she issued a low moan, and one of her hands went to the back of his head. It went on for a little while more, and then his hands came up to her shoulders and he gently pushed her back. She was breathing hard, and her knees seemed weak.

"Goodbye, Polly. I look forward to seeing you again soon."

"G ... Goodbye, sir."

Rodriquez stayed rooted to the spot of a long ten seconds, and I tried to figure out his strange expression. Finally, I noted that tears were streaking each of her cheeks, and that was obviously affecting his mood. For the millionth time, I thanked the fates that I didn't have to put up with this emotion crap. What a mess it seemed to make out of everything! I turned and watched as our client walked to the front desk and retrieved his suitcase, which he'd obviously checked with them. Without giving us another glance, and wearing a grim countenance, he walked out the front door and hailed a cab.

I issued a little "Ooff!" when she hit me from behind with her body, and her arms wrapped around me from behind to my chest. Slowly, slowly, I was able to turn until I could hold her properly; and she buried her face in my chest and cried. Emotions! What a crock! Not knowing the proper thing to do, I simply held her in my arms and shushed her softly until the waterworks finally subsided.

"I take it you liked the gentleman," I said softly.

She sniffed. "Yes, sir. I liked the gentleman."

I nodded. I felt confident expressing myself to her. Quite frankly, these past two months had been the first period in my entire life that I ever felt comfortable conversing with another human being, and I knew I could ask her questions that I would normally never ask anyone. "Are you ... um ... in love with him?"

She issued a little noise that sounded like "Humph!" And then she answered defensively: "I've only known him for a day!" She turned and picked up a small parcel from her seat, something stuffed in a manila envelope. Then she took my arm and turned toward the front door.

"You told me that you loved me on the first day we met," I pointed out.

"That was different."

"How was that different?

She made the sound again. "It just is. You are my master. He isn't."

Outside, I handed a ticket to the valet parking attendant. "I see," I told her. Then, after a moment I said: "No, I don't. You do love him. You have to. You love everybody."

She sighed deeply. "Well, I guess if you put it that way ...." She wiped a stray tear. "And, even if I did love him, it wouldn't make any difference. He's in love with someone else."

I tried to digest this info. "Who?"

"I know you don't go in for this romance stuff," she commented, "but it just so happens that he's deeply in love with his wife."

"Ah. Let me guess. She doesn't understand him."

She sighed again. "I suppose it's the same old story. He's busy making money to give her the best life possible; but all she really wants is to have him around. They've just had a child. A little girl. He wanted to wait another year or two to start a family. Now, she wants more children, and he misses the romance when it was just the two of them. They fight. He's been faithful to her up until now, but they haven't been intimate in more than a month." She gave me a sidelong look. "Did you know he was having marital problems?"

"Yes." She didn't respond to that, and when the silence has stretched on for a while, I asked: "What's in the manila envelope?"

"A gift. From him to me. Please, sir, can I keep it secret from you? I'll do whatever you ask, of course. But, if I can keep something secret between him and me, then it would feel ...."

"Intimate?"

"Intimate. Yes."

"Of course, you can keep it."

"Thank you, sir." We paused as the car arrived. The valet helped her into the passenger seat after I tipped him, so I walked around and buckled in. It was too early to go home, so I drove back toward the office.

"Sir?"

"Yes?"

"I'm going to help him, sir. I've decided."

"Rodriquez? Help him with what?"

"I'm going to make suggestions and gently apply pressure. I'm going to try to get him to reconcile with his wife."

I gave her a little laugh. "If you do love him, then you might lose him if you did that."

She smiled sadly. "That's what someone does when she's in love, sir. She makes sacrifices so the person she loves can be happy. Can you put me to sleep, sir? Please?"

I was having problems keeping up with her thought processes. "What? Right now?"

"You didn't do it yesterday. And I need to surrender to you SO badly! Please?"

We were stuck in traffic, for some reason. Probably an accident ahead on the interstate. So, we certainly had time. "Okay," I told her. "Sshhh! Just be calm and heavy for me."

Normally, I would whisper this in her ear, but it seemed to be doing the trick, probably just because she wanted it so badly. Her hands, which had been on the armrests to her left and right, plopped into her lap, and her head sank slightly forward, as if she was so tired that she was having trouble holding it upright.

"Rest your head against the window, please," I instructed; and she did. "Sleep." It was a gentle command, but her entire body slumped. "Go deeper for me now. Deeper and deeper and deeper still. Down and down and down you go." I tried to think of an erotic situation she might enjoy. "Dream that you are in a cabin in the woods. There's a blizzard outside, and we're snowed in. Mr. Rodriquez and I have met there to iron out contractual differences; but now, we can't leave. The cabin has only four rooms: a large living room area with a fireplace and plenty of wood to burn. The fire is warm and inviting. There's also a small bathroom and two bedrooms, which are only large enough to contain one queen-size bed each. They are piled high with pillows and quilts and blankets. The bedrooms are closed off to maintain warmth in the living room area, and so they are very cold. I have ordered you to disrobe, and you are now naked, trying to keep warm by the fire. You hear Rodriquez and I trying to decide who you will sleep with tonight. Finally, we decide that we will take turns with you, and that just as soon as one man has been sexually satisfied, you will go to the other, in the other bed; and you will keep that up all night. We are cutting card to see who will get you first."

I was silent after that. Traffic finally broke free. As far as I could see, there had been nothing around that should have caused a slowdown in the first place. As I was maneuvering the car into the underground parking lot next to our office building, she cried out in her sleep, making the same sound she makes when I give her an orgasm. But I waited until I'd actually parked in my assigned space to wake her up.

She stretched and yawned and frowned at me. "Oh, sir, can't I sleep for just a little while longer? I was having the best dream ever!"

I huffed. "Maybe you can tell me about it, and I can try to duplicate it for tonight's dream," I suggested. "Right now, I need you. I need you very much."

She smiled demurely. "Yes, sir."

I didn't have any time to speak to her further because there was always someone near us, all the way to the elevator, on the ride up to number six, walking to my office. But I led her past her desk and inside to my own. I closed the door and then I picked her up and deposited her on the edge of my desk. She stifled a squeal when I did that, but stayed silent as I quickly stripped her of her panties and unbuttoned her blouse. She took care of the bra herself while I undid my belt and shoved my pants down to my knees.

"How did he like the nipple rings?" I asked while lining myself up. I shoved forward hard, and she couldn't stop the sound of shocked pleasure.

"He ... OH! ... He ... He liked them. He ... OH! He couldn't stop ... OH! ... stop playing with them. It ... OH! ... It drove me crazy!"

I buried myself deep inside her and paused so we could both get used to the feeling. "Is that all you? You're sloppy wet inside. Did he leave his cum inside you before he gave you back to me?"

I started stroking in and out of her with long, slow thrusts. She wrapped her arms around my neck. "N ... No, sir. He was going to, but I begged him to let me bathe. I wanted to be clean for you. Oh, God, sir. I'm cumming!" Her inner muscles clenched and relaxed around me several times, and I rapidly approached my own peak."

"How did you get so wet, then?" I pulled back and tried to look her in the eye, but she had hers closed in her passion.

"It ... It was the dream I was having in the car! It was so ... so hot, sir!" She shivered strongly, then her eyes flew open and she brought the palm of one hand to the back of my head. "That's it, sir. Swelling so big! So, so deep! Please let go for me! Let go and cum inside me! Yes! Yes, like that! Cumming so hard inside me! YES!"

I lost track of everything for a while, and even when I began to regain my strength, I felt disoriented and drained. "I ... I need to get going again," I told her groggily. "I have to get ready for Reesland." Roland Reesland was the company Vice President of Sales, and my direct boss. I had only been with the firm for a year and a half, and I had already leap-frogged past most of the sales staff to my current position. But this deal ... well, this deal was on a whole new level. I hadn't checked the company records. I never had any interest in past data. Only future ones. But I wouldn't be surprised if this deal was the largest in the firm's history.

"Please sir," she implored. "Can't we just stay like this for a while? Like maybe the rest of the afternoon?"

I smiled and pushed her back. "No. I have to prepare my pitch. Reesland will probably want me to present it to the CEO. Maybe even the Board of Directors."

She smiled weakly and began walking around the room, picking up a blouse here, a pair of panties there. The bra was behind me, near the window, which (thank goodness) had the blinds drawn. She paused only to grab a handful of tissues to wipe between her legs before putting herself back together. Last but not least, she retrieved the manila packet that Rodriquez had given her from the desktop. She held her arms out to her sides and gave me a questioning look to see if she was presentable, and I nodded appreciatively before she went back to her desk.

Once again, I worked into the early evening. We found a deli still open on the way home, and we split a foot-long hoagy when we got home.

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It was 10:03 AM when I stormed past her desk back into my own office. I was contemplating murder, which is especially dangerous for a man like me. In my mind, all the "pros" were lining up on one side of an imaginary ledger, while the skimpy column of "cons" struggled to make any kind of showing at all.

She was suddenly just there, leaning toward me from the opposite side with both palms on the desktop. It abruptly dawned on me that I couldn't remember sitting down in my office chair. "Did you do anything?" she asked pointedly.

"He stole my sale!" I said, through gritted teeth. "That asshole, Reesland, stole my sale!"

"Yes, sir," she said, almost matter-of-factly. "Did you do anything?"

"He told me it was in a company directive," I exclaimed, more to myself than to her. "That sales over ten million have to be handled by a designated officer appointed by the Board of Directors! 'Clause Eighteen,' he called it." I looked up at her, feeling helpless. "We're going to have to change firms. The way they've written their 'Clause Eighteen,' it's obviously designed to get their top salesmen to quit after something like this happens. We have no recourse. None at all."

"Sir!" she barked loudly. She pointed toward her face. "Focus! Did you do anything?"

In all of our two-and-a-half months together, she had never once spoken to me like that. "What?" I asked, stunned.

"When he told you what he was doing, did you do anything? Did you say anything?"

I blinked up at her, uncomprehending. "Um ... no. I simply got up and walked out of his office. He shouted after me to come back; but I just kept going to the elevator, back down here. I never said a word."

She broke into a huge smile. "Oh, sir! I'm so proud of you! I could just kiss you!"

"What the hell ...?"

She stepped back away from the desk, toward the door behind her. "Sir, I need you to stay here for thirty minutes. Don't contact anyone. I just need half an hour, I promise. Please."

I felt numb. "Polly, what the hell's going on here? Who the fuck's in charge? Are you somehow ...?"

"Sir, please! I don't have much time! When we get home tonight, you can tie me up and spank me for punishment! But right now, please trust me! I've never asked you to do anything before! Please!"

I watched her move toward the door. "Did you know about this Clause Eighteen?" I asked ... more like an accusation.

She signed heavily. "I didn't know about that, but I knew he was going to try something. Now, please, sir. Don't go anywhere. Don't call anyone. Don't text or email anybody." She saw the uncertainty in my eyes. "What harm would it do to let me try to help? What have you got to lose?"

Well, that made sense, I guess. I nodded, and she was gone, closing the door behind her.

I pulled out a blank piece of paper and started listing things for a letter of resignation, but my ballpoint pen began skipping, and I had to rummage around for more than a minute before I found another one. By then, I lost interest and began thinking about how I might simply kill Reesland and get away with it. Of course, it wouldn't be prudent for me to do the deed so soon after quarreling with him. On the other hand, I hadn't actually argued; I'd simply walked out on the man. But still, I'd needed to give it some time. Confound it all, where was that girl? She'd said half an hour, and it had already been .... I checked my watch. Fifteen minutes.

Perhaps I was going about this all wrong. What was it that she was seeing that I was not? I'd been blindsided by this, and she had somehow almost expected it. Was it a conspiracy of some sort? Could Polly be in on it? But no; in that direction lay madness ... something I'd been able to avoid in my life up until now. And in this, my hour of urgent need, I felt compelled to actually trust her. So. I'd come full circle. If I trusted her to take some sort of action, then she knew something I did not. How had she acquired that hidden knowledge?

But that was obvious. She had lines of communication I lacked. People naturally liked her, while people naturally disliked me. So, people confided in her. Trusted her. Opened up to her. But she said she loved me. People in love don't keep secrets that wreck careers, do they? But if she knew and didn't tell me ... if the fucking bitch knew and ....

The door flew open so fast that it hit the wall on the opposite side. "Sir! We have to go! Now! I'll try to explain on the way! Hurry!"

I was up and moving without thinking. I still had my suit jacket on; I'd never taken it off from my visit to Reesland's office. She paused only to pick up a stack of papers from her desk, and she was moving fast toward the elevators. Halfway there, I tripped over a woman's handbag and nearly fell. Waving an apology to its owner, I found her already in the elevator, holding the door for me, tapping her foot impatiently.

The elevator was going up. "What ...?" I began; but she put a warning finger to her lips and glanced sideways at two others who were sharing the ride up. I might have growled at her. Our fellow passengers both glanced at me nervously. We all got out on eight, the top floor; the executive floor.