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Office Affair

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"So, Mark, read the brief?" Vickers is looking keenly at me. He's one of the senior managers and I'm sat in his office.

I nod. "Sounds interesting."

"But hopefully not TOO interesting, eh?" says Vickers, joshing me. I shoot him a grin - I've passed my exams and qualified (a lawyer now!) and this is the first time I'm to be let loose with 'in charge' responsibility away from the office. A fraud investigation and me and a couple of juniors are going in to do some prep before the big boys get involved. We'll be there a week. Company is out of town, so it's a hotel gig, starts Monday morning and it's now Friday afternoon. Bit of a rush to get ready. "Okay, so away you go," says Vickers. "I'll pop out middle of the week and check how we're doing. Happy with your team? Emma and Ken?"

"Sure," I tell him, which is true enough.

Emma Mills, that's good, that's very good. She's a hottie - the best looking girl in the firm by miles. Emma Mills is fucking gorgeous! Every guy from the senior partner to the janitor fancies the pants of her. Me, I'm about in the middle, and I'm totally no exception. I fancy the pants off her. I've got a girlfriend and she's pretty and I like her, but if Emma is ever interested ... well let's just say so am I. A week in close proximity to Ms Mills? Four nights in the same hotel? Yep, I'll take it. Chance to really get to 'know' her if you take my drift.

And zero male competition because I've also got Ken. No intention of getting to know him any better than I already do, which is depressingly well. Kenneth Longbottom. Oh god. Guy's a joke. Must be at least ten years older than me and still a junior for fuck's sake, failing his exams for about the hundredth time just as I'm passing them first go. Says it all, doesn't it? Bit of a sack he is too -- the sort you can bully around and rip the piss out of. Poor guy gets a hard time around the firm and I have to admit I'm one of the main tormentors. Can be quite entertaining.

There's time for a short meeting, the three of us, to get our ducks in a row, and it goes well. Goes very well.

Emma's excited. She's 22, only been with the firm six months, and eager to shine. Way she looks, that's a slam dunk. She's shining alright. Hard to say which is more fabulous, the face or the body. Not that I can totally see her body, of course, but her outfit leaves no doubt she's the complete package.

As I run through the essentials I pretty much ignore Ken and concentrate on Em. She really is a 24 carat babe. Girl's so fucking horny in her tight skirt I feel like jumping her there and then. And she knows I do, I can tell.

Good. I want her to know it.

What's even better is how it doesn't bother her, me looking at her the way I am. Fact, she's liking the attention. Emma Mills is one of those girls who's very comfortable with guys lusting after her. Encourages it even. Like how she keeps crossing and re-crossing her legs as I'm talking, letting her skirt ride up her thighs. Yeah, she knows exactly what she's doing with that, no question. Fine by me. More than fine. I glance down periodically, ogling her luscious pins, make it clear I'm enjoying the view. Old Ken's looking too, although he's trying not to, which is funny. As if. Has the guy even been with a woman his whole life? Seriously doubt it. Brad Pitt he is not.

"So, all set?" I say, wrapping up.

"Sure, Mark. I'm looking forward to it," says Emma. I like the knowing way she's grinning at me.

"Kenneth?" I say, still looking at Emma. She's idly fingering a button on her blouse. It's a spectacular view already with the top three undone ... 'Melons' is one of her nicknames with the guys ... if she pops this one too, oh jesus. But she doesn't. She leaves the button and turns to look at Ken. What a fucking tease! I've heard she does get off on toying with guys, loves them panting over her, but I'm praying she's not JUST a cock-teaser. Shit, I already want to nail this sexy little bitch so bad I can hardly think straight! I'm also looking at Ken now. "Ken, you okay?" I prod.

"Err ..." The clown is rifling through his notes, thinking I want an intelligent question. I roll my eyes for Emma's benefit and she sniggers.

"Just 'Yes, Mark' will do fine," I snap at the guy, enjoying playing the bossman in front of Emma Mills.

He stops fumbling with his papers and goes a bit red. "Sorry. Yes, Mark. All set."

"Okay, so see you at the station Monday. Bright and early - we're on the 8:37."

*

All goes swimmingly. First thing, when we've met up, is I explain about expenses. We've got a maximum for the week, I tell them, and the best way, rather than divvy up, is I'll pay for everything and do one big claim at the end. I've already got our tickets, I say.

They're both cool with this. Wouldn't matter if they weren't since I'm running the show.

Then the snag. A little wheeze I've come up with to get some time alone with Emma. The budget's only enough for two of us to travel first class, I say, and I ask for a volunteer to go second, staring at Ken. He gets the message and puts his hand up. "Me then, I guess."

I give him his ticket and a pat on the back. "Ken, you're a prince," I say, grinning at Emma who's trying not to laugh. I feast my eyes on her for a moment. Her travel attire is super-tight blue jeans, little suede boots, skimpy tee-shirt, leather jacket. She looks fantastically fuckable.

Check my watch -- 8:15. "Anybody fancy a quick coffee?"

"Not for me, thanks," says Ken.

"I'd love one," says Emma. "Didn't have time this morning. Overslept. Only just about managed to shower and get dressed."

Cue visions of her naked, soaping herself under a jet of warm water. The mischievous look she tosses in my direction says she knows exactly what's going on in my head. In Ken's too, no doubt, but her sexy, insinuating smile is 110% for me.

She's definitely decided to flirt with the boss!

And Ken? Big fat zero for him, I'm afraid. Poor guy is getting ignored again by a drop-dead gorgeous girl. Apart from just now ... this 'volunteering' business ... she's barely looked at him since we got here.

"Okay, you and me then, Em," I say, fishing a note from my wallet. I glance over at the Starbucks. There's a queue. Good. I don't bother looking at Ken, just wave the money in his direction. "Do the honours, Kenny, there's a good chap. Coffee for the first class passengers." That makes Emma giggle.

Ken takes the cash. He really is pathetic. You can treat him like shit and he just takes it. Dork. "Er, haven't you forgotten something?" I say, as he makes to go.

"Umm ... have I?"

"Yeah, you have. How do you know what sort of coffee?"

"You're cappuccino no sugar, Mark, aren't you?" he chirps. Which is bang on, I have to admit. Guess he's fetched me one so often from the office machine that he's got it hard-coded.

"And Emma? Doesn't she count around here?" I say, winking at Em.

Ken looks suitably embarrassed. "Ah, okay. Sorry."

"Don't say sorry to me, Ken. It's Emma you need to be apologising to." Emma is finding this very amusing, I can tell from the look in her eyes, but she's keeping a straight face.

Silence.

"So go on then. Tell her you're sorry and ask her what she wants."

"Um, I'm sorry, Emma. What would you like?"

Emma's fighting back the giggles. "Well let me see," she muses, finger on chin, taking her time. "I think what I'd really love right now is a skinny double macchiato decaf with two sugars and a nice big dollop of whipped cream on top. How's that?"

"Okay," he mumbles, setting off again. It's fucking hilarious.

"Er, Ken?" I call him back. "D'you wanna maybe just repeat that back to her? You know, make sure you've got it."

He does, says the whole thing back to Emma and he gets it correct as it happens. There's a problem, though. "You've forgotten the most important bit!" Emma announces, chiding him. Ken looks confused. "Shot of vanilla. I said that, Ken, didn't I? Sure I did." She turns to me. "I did say with a shot of vanilla, Mark, didn't I?"

"Yeah, Em, definitely. Shot of vanilla. C'mon, Kenny, wake up! Want you on-the-ball this week."

"Okay." Ken doesn't want to argue. Very wise. We finally let him trot off and join the Starbucks queue.

Both of us crease up when he's gone. "Poor guy!" giggles Emma. "That was a bit naughty of us, Mark, wasn't it?"

I grin at her. "Yeah, guess so. He's such a total twat, though."

When Ken returns we don't break off our conversation, Emma and I, we just put our hands out for the drinks. Emma takes a sip ... "Mmm, lovely!" ... and then she asks whether she can send him back to get her a chocolate muffin. She really fancies one, she says.

"Sorry, Em, train's going in five minutes," I tell her.

"Okay, never mind then," she puts on a sulky pout. "My fault. Should have asked for one before."

"Or maybe our Ken here should have asked you," I say, looking daggers at the poor sod.

"Yeah, why didn't you ask me, Kenny?" ... Emma looks rather pissed off with him too now ... "If you'd remembered to ask whether I wanted a chocolate muffin with my coffee I'd have definitely said yes."

"Um, sorry, Emma," he mutters. Can you believe the guy? God.

"Apology accepted, Ken," she smiles. "But try and do better in future, okay?"

"Okay, Emma."

"Yeah, Kenny, on your toes, we're looking for a good performance from you on this job," I cut in.

"I'm really sorry, Mark," says Ken, looking sheepish. Also a bit scared, me being the boss.

I stare at him as if about to deliver a serious tongue-lashing. "Okay. Least you're admitting you screwed up. Guess that's something," I say, finally. His relief is palpable.

"Doesn't get Emma her muffin, though, does it? You being sorry?"

Emma's just about losing it. "You bastard!" she mouths at me. Egging me on.

"And you really fancied one, Em, didn't you?"

She nods gravely. "Yes, I so did. If only he'd thought to ask me."

"Don't worry, our Ken here will be making it up to you, I promise."

Emma raises an eyebrow. "Oh really?" she says, a glint in her eye.

"Yeah. Really." Glint in my eye too. "Anyway, look, Kenny, chance to redeem yourself ..." and I give him the task of looking after our suitcases from now until the hotel.

"Great, Mark!" he pipes, unbelievably. Ken's a fat lump, totally out of shape, and he wheezes a bit getting them on the trolley, especially Emma's which is easily the biggest.

"Mainly clothes, Ken," she confesses as he's struggling with it. "You know how us girls are."

"Not sure he does, Em, no," I can't resist. "Don't think our Kenneth's an expert on that subject. I mean, look at him, not exactly every woman's dream, is he?" Ken Longbottom is a seriously ugly guy, it has to be said. Face like a potato.

"Mark, don't be so cruel!" giggles Emma, meaning the exact opposite. The bitch is getting as big a kick as I am from being mean to Ken and it's clear the two of us are going to have a lot of fun this week at the poor bastard's expense.

He's finally got the bags on the trolley and we're ready to go.

"Come on, let's not miss it." I give Ken a slap on the backside then Emma and I walk off ahead of him towards the train. We stroll down the platform sipping our coffees, Ken in behind and pushing the trolley. I look back and I catch him staring at Emma's ass - can't blame him either, the way it's undulating in the spray-on denim she's wearing. Yeah, sexy bitch is flaunting it, no question. Knows exactly what she's got going on with these jeans.

I lean in and tell her that Ken is drooling. Emma smirks and turns to see for herself. "Oh my god, what a perv!" she giggles. She starts wiggling her peachy ass around even more. Poor Kenny is mesmerised!

It's a great enough scenario but it gets better because Emma slips her free hand into mine. "Hey, Mark, let's make Ken really really jealous this week," she whispers.

Music to my ears!

Why? Well, because I sense from how she says it that Emma Mills is going to let me fuck her. Dunno whether it's down to her fancying me, or me being her boss, or even just she's decided hooking up with me will be a fun way to torture Ken. Don't know and I don't care.

So, we walk hand in hand the rest of the way. Couple of times I look round and grin at Ken. Yes, he does look jealous. Very.

I get an urge to do more than hold hands. What I feel like doing is slipping my arm around Emma's waist, maybe give her buttocks a squeeze too, and I almost do that. She'd like it, I reckon. Thing is, though, I'm not 110% certain she would - perhaps she'd rather take things a bit slower -- and I don't want to run the risk. I'm looking forward to fucking this gorgeous bitch more than anything I've looked forward to my entire life and I'll kill myself if I blow it. I decide to let Emma make the running as regards her and me. I'll take my cues from her.

We give Ken a little wave as we disappear into our carriage, leaving him to truck along the platform on his own (with the trolley) till he reaches the second class section.

*

We settle into our seats and get comfortable. There's loads of space in first class and the journey is very enjoyable. For me and Em it is, anyway. Doubt Ken's liking it too much. I spend most of the time chatting Emma up and she responds -- she really flirts me back. We occasionally have a bit of a giggle thinking about Ken, back there with all the cases, but apart from this we forget about him until the announcer says we'll be arriving in a few minutes.

"So ... hope Ken can get the bags off the train," muses Emma.

"Fucking better do," I say. "Think I should phone him, baby?" Calling her 'baby' shows how well me and Em have got on during this train ride. We're extremely into each other now.

Emma nods. "Yeah, honey, reckon you should. Don't want all my 'stuff' going astray, do we?" There's a teasing smile on her lips because she's been telling me about the clothes she's packed. She intends dressing pretty damn hot this week and my head is full of images of Em in her sexy gear. Some wet-dream outfits she's chosen by the sounds of it! God, just hearing her describe them was enough to make my dick super-hard. And Emma did describe them, believe me -- all of them, one by one. Every last detail. Oh fuck. The girl really is quite naughty.

I call Ken's mobile, ask him if things are okay, has he got the bags under control bla bla? He assures me he has. Yep, he'll see us on the platform. Nope, he won't move till we find him. Yes Mark, no Mark, three bags full Mark.

"Okay cheers, Kenny boy." It's amusing calling a guy who's tons older than me 'boy'. Emphasises how I'm the boss and he's a failure. Rubs the poor cunt's nose in it.

Emma thinks it's funny too. "So, is 'Kenny boy' gonna be okay with our suitcases?" she asks.

"Yeah, he is."

"Our hero," she smirks. "And did he enjoy the journey?"

"Not as much as we did, baby," I chuckle.

"Guess second class is rather ... err ... second class," says Emma.

"Poor chap couldn't get a seat apparently. Really crowded. Had to stand the whole three hours. Can you imagine, Em?"

Emma laughs. "Oh no. The poor thing! And here's us with all this room."

It's true. We've had a compartment pretty much to ourselves, spent most of the journey reclining opposite each other across two seats. Emma's still in this position now.

"Life's not fair, is it, honey?" she giggles and she treats herself to a last luxurious stretch, arms together and over her head. She's been doing this periodically throughout and what always happens is that her tee-shirt (1) slides up her torso exposing several inches of tanned and toned belly, and (2) gets pressed tight to her bra-less breasts which jut and thrust, nipples and all, against flimsy cotton. Either (1) or (2) is quite sufficient to drive a guy crazy, but both together? ... oh sweet jesus.

So it's one more for the road, as it were, and sure enough my tongue is hanging out again. I'm just about coming in my pants, for christ's sake!

Emma knows exactly what she's doing, of course. She's been teasing me senseless on the train and loving every minute of it. Bitch is laughing at me now, for instance, how I'm going nuts staring at the outline of her fabulous jugs ... yeah, the little minx is lapping it up. She stares ostentatiously at my crotch -- there's an obvious bulge! -- and she licks her lips. "Later, Mark honey, later," Emma giggles. Seeing there's no-one around she playfully sticks her tongue out at me, then ever-so-slowly pulls her shirt up and gives me an eyeful. God, I want her so bad when I see her naked breasts I'm almost dying. Cock's gonna fucking explode! It's actually a relief, sort of, when she pulls her top back down.

Girl is SUCH a fucking cock-tease!

And I don't mind because I know I'm gonna have her - she's told me this now, straight up. Told me on the train. We're gonna fuck like rabbits, me and Em, this week. Yeah, we are! Therefore no, all this cock-teasing is totally cool. Fact, I love it. Just heightens my anticipation (and hers, I sense), makes the whole thing between her and me even more unbelievably horny. As does us having poor Kenny Longbottom around to torment.

Yep, yours truly and the luscious, pouting Emma Mills are gonna have a whale of a time this week, no question!

*

We take a cab to the hotel. Ken sits in front with the driver and me and Em cosy up together at the back. It's a ten minute ride - any longer and I'd be in trouble because Emma gives my cock some grade A feminine attention. She rests her hand in my lap and she teases my hard-on through my pants, softly fingering the bulge, squeezing it a little then stopping, starting again, stopping ... all the time chatting away as if nothing's happening. She has me on the brink of spunking half the time but never quite pushes me over the edge. It's torture! I can't even groan or move around, have to just sit and suffer in silence. Neither Ken nor the driver have a clue what the sexy little bitch is doing.

She's gonna get the fuck of her life tonight, I can tell you that! I'd love to nail her right now, actually, but we're expected at the company in less than an hour.

We check in (Ken handing luggage duties over to the porter) -- three basic rooms not including breakfast have been pre-booked by the firm. Skinflints. Good news, though, I tell the team. I've done some calculations and concluded there's room in the budget for an upgrade. We have a choice, I say. Either we all upgrade to 'superior' but with no breakfast, or if one of us agrees to not upgrade at all that'll mean the other two can go for superior rooms AND including breakfast. Emma can decide, I say.

"Me?"

"Sure, Em. Why not? What do you reckon?"

Emma ponders for a moment then turns to Ken. "What do YOU think, Kenny?"

"Well, all of us going superior but no breakfast ... that sounds fairest?" He's surprised and pleased to be consulted.

Emma nods. "It does, doesn't it? Yes, definitely."

"Great!" says Ken.

Emma smiles, picks up her laptop - looks like it's agreed. Then she has second thoughts. "Thing is, I do rather fancy the breakfast," she muses. She looks at Ken and then at me. "Oh god, Mark, this is sooo difficult!"

"Up to you, Em. Just say."

She considers the matter and makes up her mind. "Okay, I really like having breakfast so I'll take an upgrade."

"Fair enough," I say. "And the other upgrade? Me or Ken for that?"

She grins at me. "Well, we can't have the boss in the worst room, can we?"

I'm grinning too. Only person who isn't is Ken. He's not the sharpest tool in the box but he's worked out from this little exchange that he's stuck with the 'basic room no breakfast' package. "I'm sorry, Ken," says Emma, not looking sorry at all.

"Um, s'okay, Emma," he mumbles, poor guy.

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