The Promotion

Greg's thick, callused hands perspired with anxiety. For the past hour, he tapped his foot on the dark, rosewood floor as the man on the other side of the desk droned on his performance review. As the Directing Manager at the Ford Motors Company, Greg worked tirelessly perfecting the company's fleet of efficient, stylish, and durable automobiles. Sales, even in a double-dip recession economy, increased steadily every quarter in the past three years and unlike the other American car giants, the company didn't need to take a second government bailout to keep its finances afloat. Greg could feel the sweet taste of victory on his tongue, waiting for the magical words "You've been promoted" to fall out of the President's mouth.

"Greg?" He straightened his back, scooted to the edge of his chair and focused his attention on his boss. At fifty-eight years old, the current President of Ford Motors held a youthful vitality in his face; his peppered hair cropped his expansive forehead perfectly, hiding the wrinkles that defined his true age. His cobalt blue eyes pierced into Greg's cloudy gray eyes while his thin crisp lips turned into an upward smile.

"Yes, Mr. President?" Two years shy of forty, Greg was beginning to feel like he was reaching the prime stage of his life. A modest six feet and two inches, Greg had a firm, healthy body with wide shoulders and broad back thanks to his workout regiment before and after work. The youthful vitality that made him popular in high school and college had not left his athletic body; coupled with his freshly-minted MBA from the University of Michigan, he yearned for the jet-setter lifestyle that he labored hour-by-hour to reach.

"I have had many men sit on the other side of this desk with the same look in their eyes-a quenching thirst, ravishing hunger for power." He started, his eyes going back and forth between Greg and his performance sheet. "While your performance is similar to these other men, you, Mr. Thomas, hold great potential." Greg's body flushed with heat, he could feel himself rising from the chair, ready to shake his boss's hand.

A high pitched ring interrupted Greg's concentration. His eyes diverted to the phone on the President's desk, impatiently waiting for the phone to stop ringing. The President picked up the phone.

"Yes?" The President responded. Greg bit his lip- in all of the years he had been called to the President's office, he had never known his boss to pick up the phone in the middle of the meeting. The insides of his throat contracted- what if the President intended to pass the promotion over him to someone else.

"Go ahead and bring her in." The tension in Greg's throat relaxed; all of the managers, including himself, were all men. He brought in someone from the Board of Directors to approve of his decision, Greg reconciled with himself. He rolled his shoulders backwards, then forwards and dusted off what lint was on his only tailored black suit. He wedged back in his chair so that his back was pressed against the seat and flexed his fingers to eradicate his nerves. I need to appear confident, not scared.

The door opened and icy cool air blew on Greg's neck. The fine hairs on his body pricked upwards from the top of his exposed neck, down his collar and through his collared white t-shirt and brown jacket. The confidence he mustered just moments before slowly eroded into a cautious, weary feeling.

"I'm here as you ordered, Mr. President." Greg turned his head slightly as a tall, olive-skinned woman walked towards him and his boss. She was wearing a charcoal-black business jacket and matching pencil skirt that stopped two inches above her knee. A forest-green satin blouse revealed the cleavage of her round, pert breasts and she wore flesh-colored pantyhose that reached the top of her thighs. Her inky black hair was pulled back into a tight bun and she wore rectangular tinted glasses. Greg flashed through his memory on who this woman could be-was this a new Board Director that he was unaware of? He normally knew when a new person joined the Board of Directors with all of the memos the Public Relations Director loved to frequently publish. However, in the past seven years in his position, he never recognized a woman joining the Board of Directors.

"Ah, Sylvia, so glad you could make it." Sylvia's flush red lips curved upward into a smile as she curtly sat down in the chair next to Greg, crossing her legs just enough to ride up her skirt. With his life dedicated to the company, Greg didn't have time for a love life, let alone sexual activity. He couldn't remember the last time he had sex, and despite the importance of the matter at hand-his promotion-he found his eyes crawling over Sylvia's body. Her elongated neck melted into her narrow shoulders which heaved in unison with her bulging chest. Her stomach was taut and slim, while her hips were wide and round giving her the perfect hourglass figure. His eyes wandered lower to her slender legs, and to his surprise, a slit in her skirt revealed black and green lace panties in plain sight. He could feel his cock stir from its slumber underneath his pants and slowly edged his hand towards Sylvia's body.

"As I was saying Mr. Thomas." The President coughed; Greg jumped and turned his attention back to his boss. "At Ford Motors, we have a culture of loyalty, commitment and dedication." Greg nodded mindlessly at his boss's words; his thoughts were preoccupied with Sylvia-if there was a way he could get her alone, slide his hands up her skirt and grab her soft, smooth skin. He longed to feel her full, thick lips pressed against his own, and her circular, perky breasts in between his fingers and his teeth. He was tempted to pick her up and bend her over the table, spread her legs and pound her pussy away.

"Mr. Thomas." Greg smacked his cheek as he returned to the present. What is wrong with me? Today was the most important day of his career and he was daydreaming of fucking a woman whom he had just laid his eyes on with no formal meeting.

"Yes, sir?" He asked.

"Are you willing to take the position of Vice President of Operations?" This is it. Greg took in a deep breath to soothe his rattling nerves.

"Yes, Mr. President." He replied. He wanted to jump for joy at the offer, but the thought of Sylvia, bent over with her skirt up, ass and pussy exposed for him clouded his ambitious desire.

"Are you willing to dedicate your life and soul to the company?" The paper was there in front of him- the agreement that all of the executives had to take. Greg nodded once again, but in his mind, he envisioned Sylvia wiggling her ass up and down in front his face. Come on, give me a taste, you know you want some.

"Yes, Mr. President, I am willing." He stammered, quelling his nervousness down his throat. He extended his right arm towards the desk, making a grab for the pen on the edge. He was prepared to sign his life away to Ford Motors, to go through thick and thin with the company, in good times and bad. Just as his fingers brushed the tip of the pen, his hand was stopped by a tender, but strong one- Sylvia's.

"Mr. Thomas, an ink signature will not suffice." The President responded as Greg looked at him with confusion. "At this level in the company, we require something more substantial."

"More...substantial?" Greg gulped as he looked back and forth between his boss and Sylvia. The President remained emotionless and solemn; Sylvia on the other hand looked excited and was eying Greg's body through her glasses. Greg's body shook with small tremors; he admitted to himself to be attracted to Sylvia, but he didn't expect for Sylvia to return his lustful yearning. Sylvia uncrossed her legs and inched towards the edge of her seat, moving her body closer and closer to Greg. A moment ago, arousal and passion filled his mind; now it was intimidation and fear. What exactly did Sylvia have to do with his promotion?

"Yes, Mr. Thomas. This is an oath of loyalty, and we require blood." Greg paled at the President's words. Blood? Is this some kind of secret fraternity ritual? The title he wanted, the life he desired was right there in front of him. A blood oath was the ticket to a six-figure salary and private jets.

"Oh-oh-ok, sure, Mr. President. I'll be right back-" He was about to stand up when Sylvia squeezed his hand, forcing him to sit back down.

"No, no, Mr. Thomas, Miss Sylvia will do." He looked at Sylvia. "Just one bite. Don't get too carried away."

One bite? Greg thought as Sylvia smiled, revealing a pair of sharp, pointed teeth.

"Of course, Mr. President." She whispered as she stood up and hiked up her skirt, giving Greg a clear view of her round, spherical ass. She faced Greg and straddled her legs on both sides of the chair, then lowered her body onto his lap so her eyes aligned with Greg's. Slowly grinding her hips against Greg's crotch, Sylvia took off her glasses and stared into Greg's eyes. Her deep violet eyes sank Greg into a ravishing frenzy.

His hands rode up her slender thighs and squeezed her ass, letting the tender skin fill his hands. Sylvia's lips brushed his, and eventually pried them open, allowing her to sweep her tongue into his mouth. The constant gyrating of her hips hardened his cock and he desperately freed them from his pants. He rolled his head back and sighed as the tip of his cock could feel the entrance of Sylvia's wet pussy. Thrusting his hips upward, he plunged into Sylvia's wet walls and allowed her to ride him to his orgasm.

Greg kept his hands on Sylvia's ass as she bopped up and down his cock; he couldn't believe he was fucking a woman right in front his boss but he was enjoying it too much to care. He could feel himself build up to a climax, and he became alert of Sylvia's action. Her lips had slid from his own, down his cheekbone, past his jaw, and now at the base of his neck. Her tongue flickered on his skin, and saliva moistened the spot. She puckered her lips and began to suck on the thin layer, bringing his blood vessels to the surface.

Just when Greg couldn't hold back his orgasm any longer, he groaned loudly as he spilled his cum inside of Sylvia. As the last burst of cum left his cock, a sharp pain pierced his skin. He grunted and struggled to get Sylvia off of him, but his weakened body stayed pinned to the chair. Sylvia's teeth tore a small piece of flesh from his neck and Greg felt a wave of nausea pass through.

"That's enough, Sylvia." The President ordered as Sylvia lifted herself off of Greg's cock and away from his chair. Greg, weary and dizzy, leaned forward onto his boss's desk and slammed his head on the table. He hoped, wished, and prayed that the blood found its way to the loyalty oath before giving into his unconsciousness.

The walls were a deep crimson, and in the middle of the room was a king-size bed. Sylvia was lying on the white polyester sheets nude, her clothes in a pile near the edge of the mattress.

"Come to me, you haven't gotten the job yet." Her raspy voice teased. Greg looked around; the President was nowhere in sight and the dark interior of his office had vanished. Where exactly AM I? He thought as he looked back at Sylvia, And who is SHE to tell me that I didn't get the promotion? He strode towards the bed with his hand pointed at the naked woman.

"Listen, I don't know WHERE I am, but I would like to-" He started, but he didn't hear anything come out of his mouth. Instead his lips rubbed against each other and his teeth bobbed up and down, scraping the rough edges of his tongue. He opened his mouth to yell at Sylvia.

"HELLO, I WOULD LOVE TO GO BACK TO THE OFFICE-" Once again, his hearing failed him, even as his throat strained to eek a sound of his mouth. Sylvia chuckled in mirth as she watched Greg struggle with his voice.

"Mr. Thomas." She hissed. "The only way you're going back to the office is if you take a bite of me, and you should do it soon, or you'll be trapped here forever." Her words pounded into Greg's head, causing him to flinch. His heart beat rapidly as he took into consideration Sylvia's words; he had to take a bite out of Sylvia or go mad in this room in which he couldn't even voice his opinion. Bite her..but where? He thought as Sylvia began to wriggle her body against the thin sheets on the bed.

"Come on, give me a taste." She taunted while spreading her legs to reveal the pale pink flesh of her pussy. Greg's rational side fought with his sexual desires; he wanted to escape this place, but he also wanted to stand in awe and be mesmerized by Sylvia's presence. Mustering all of the strength, he knelt on the edge of the bed and ran his hands up Sylvia's slender legs. He leaned forward and began kissing the inside of Sylvia's right thigh, leaving a small trail of saliva from her knee up to outside of her pussy. Once he reached the outside of her pussy, he reclined back and kissed the inside of her left thigh up to her pussy a second time. With his hands keeping Sylvia's legs spread apart, Greg's tongue flickered the flabby folds of Sylvia's pussy. He covered her pussy with his mouth while he continued to smother her sensitive skin with his saliva. Sylvia's moans rang through Greg's ears; to him, it was a sweet symphony of music that he could listen to for a very long time. The warm fluid that seeped out of Sylvia's pussy quenched his thirst and he dug in for more.

Greg's lips encircled Sylvia's clit and he began to suck profusely, hoping to make Sylvia moan and beg for more. Sylvia arched her back and looked down at him.

"What-what are you doing?" She yelled. "Don't bite me there!" Greg's sensible, practical side returned to his conscience; he needed to find a way out of this dream place. He remembered what Sylvia taunted him with-he needed to bite something in order to get out. He felt Sylvia's hands grab his hair and pull his head away from her pussy. There has to be a reason why she's pulling me away. He thought. With what strength he had, Greg dived his head back in between Sylvia's legs and wrapped his lips around her clit a second time. Concentrating as hard as he could, Greg clenched his teeth on the nub of Sylvia's clit and bit hard. A high-pitched scream filled Greg's ears as he continued to grit his teeth on her clit. Just when he thought his ears couldn't take enough of Sylvia's screaming, the small piece of skin in between his teeth disappeared and the bed, along with Sylvia disappeared. Stinging needles pierced his body and Greg felt a wave of nausea impounding on his head. Please..let me get out of this place...

"Mr. Thomas?" Greg opened his eyes. Above him was a blurry but visible President. He was still in his office, but lying on his couch.

"Sir..?" He asked. The old man smiled.

"Congratulations on your promotion to Vice President, Mr. Thomas." A wave of relief and accomplishment washed over Greg's face. He stretched his hand to his neck and felt a band-aid where Sylvia bit him. He wondered briefly if he would ever see Sylvia again, but changed his mind. One bite was all he needed to get the job, and he willingly gave it.