The Influencer

It was another dull day at work. Sam, who had been working his way up in the firm for years, had finally gotten a corner office. At 49, he had become the youngest executive director in firm history. There were some great perks that came with the promotion and control over the entire 26th floor. But the best part of it all was now that he had arrived, he could finally set his own schedule.

He loved his wife and daughter very much, and hated the time he was away from them because of the job. It should be different from here on out. Of course Sam Mills would always be first into the office, that was a matter of pride. Leaving on time or even early would be different, just like having an actual weekend.

Sam was around 6’2”, kept fit and trim in the company gym, and didn't even consider coloring his salt and pepper hair. His work wardrobe was suit and tie, custom fitted to dress for success. Even on casual Fridays, when the office wore jeans and hoodies, he at least wore a sport jacket.

Of course, by mid-afternoon on any normal day, the jacket would be off, the tie loose, and the sleeves rolled up. Today was interview day, however, and he had one more meeting. He'd told HR he would prefer a male administrative assistant, but he knew these days that wasn't exactly allowed. They had found four, but the first three had been pretty bad. Certainly there was someone bright enough for him to mentor.

The first was actually a no show. They called an hour or two after the interview time, but were told firmly the position was filled. The second wore a T-shirt and jeans and didn't speak in complete sentences. Earlier that afternoon, the third one came with good qualifications, dressed well, but was very young and just out of college. No experience was tough in this field.

“Well, that just leaves you…” He flipped to the front of the resume, “...Casey James.” He spoke to himself at times, which was something he needed to stop. The receptionist desk was between him and the conference room. “Grace, is my 3:00 o'clock here?” She told him they had arrived at 10 minutes to the hour. That was certainly a good sign.

He stopped in the washroom and freshened up. Even if the candidates weren't prepared for an interview, it wouldn't stop him from being professional. “Well, Mr. James, I certainly hope they saved the best for last, because… damn.” He cleared his throat, opened the door to the conference room and stopped in his tracks.

Casey sat alone in the conference room, hoping her nerves were masked well enough. Various files and papers sat before her, ready to be presented to the interviewer. She tried to look as confident as possible. Her dirty blonde hair was done up into a neat bun, her makeup was minimal other than the bright red lipstick. She sat rigidly straight with her arms crossed, trying to appear an independent and confident woman, even if it wasn't her nature.

The job market hadn't treated her well. She'd gotten an office job with relative ease when she'd first been in the job market, but she had since been laid off after only eighteen months with that company. In the several months since, she's been living off of savings, going to every interview she could find for a secretary or assistant. This was one of the last ones she could find in the area, and she was still unemployed. She felt like she needed this.

The twenty-one year old is on the shorter side at around 5'3. Frequently receiving compliments of her beauty, she is doe-eyed with a bright, infectious smile that doesn't currently inhabit her face. Though few would consider her attire slutty, she didn't avoid showcasing her body, simply because she felt no need to. She took her fitness seriously, and was in excellent shape. Today, she wears a white blouse with a plunge deep enough to show off her ample cleavage, and a black knee-length skirt.

She forced a smile through her nerves as the door opened, trying to put on the best impression possible, but she could since some kind of apprehension in the interviewer already. It unsettled her, and quickly evaporated her feigned grin.

“Good afternoon, you must be Ms. James.” He stode into the room and sat across from her. “I'm Sam, Sam Mills, most everyone just calls me Sam. I've read your resume, and you certainly qualify from an educational standpoint.” He looked down at the paperwork again. “You are a little light on experience, however.”

He looked down at the list of questions that HR put together. Aside from revealing one of the earlier candidates was a complete moron, it was of no use. Sam had a better idea, the human resources could kiss his executive ass. “Okay, Ms. James, this is usually where I ask you some fairly stupid questions that you answer easily, because you've heard them all before. Well, I hope you like a challenge.”

He looked at her. She was an attractive young lady, perhaps she could have dressed a bit more modestly, but it wasn't bad. He got up and walked over to a white board where he picked up a marker and began to write:

The Dubs -

Who… the heck are you?
What… do you want from this place?
Where… is it you want to end up?
When… will you be done here?
Why… should I hire you so you can do it?

“Okay,” He turned around and watched her read. “I think you get the idea. I'll give you five or ten minutes to put together some thoughts. Jot a few things down if you like… then we'll just have a conversation.” With that he strode towards the door to call HR and tell them what he did and to chew them out about their selection process. He stopped. “By the way, there's one more W that's not a W. Figure that out you get bonus points. See you in ten.”

She read the board, her expression growing increasingly puzzled as she continued. This was unorthodox, certainly. She glanced down at her papers, everything she had brought to prepare. It was all useless now. She flipped one of the papers over and searched her purse for a pen, then started to frantically write ideas for what she could possibly say to answer each question.

She glanced at the man again as he left the room. He seemed stern, but there was something that she liked about his demeanor in spite of it. The way he carried himself, it intrigued her. He wasn't bad looking either, she thought. She considered trying to win him over with seduction, but quickly snapped out of it, then scolded herself under her breath. It wasn't even worth considering in her mind, and she needs to stay focused.

As she jotted down rough ideas of her answers, she could feel the pressure. Not a single one of her previous interviews had made her feel so stressed, so frantic. Hopefully, she at least got a job out of this.

Once she'd written everything out, she read over it repeatedly, checking herself. She adjusted her top, making sure that she looked as presentable as possible. The clock ticks and she watches anxiously, waiting for the man to return.

Mills had finished his call with HR, and apparently though the job market was tightening, many wanted remote jobs. If he rejected all the applicants, it would put him back two weeks to a month. That was time that couldn't be spared. “Fuck me. Stuck between the Scylia and Charybdis once again.” He muttered.

He walked back into the room with a nod and took the eraser to the whiteboard. Then he sat back in the chair, but closed the folder in front of him. “Well, it looks like you've written a novel there, but I don't think you'll need it. I want to see how you think, so let's see…”

His idea was to mash the questions together and watch her reactions. Thinking under pressure was important. “Okay, first, describe a defining moment in your life that you feel put you on this particular path. Then, tell me what you want to do… not a career, either. I once wanted to be a writer. I was told that's not a way to success. You have to want to *write*. Go!” He smiled.

She watched the words wiped from the whiteboard, puzzled. She studied the man, confused by his motives. His demeanor confused her, and she couldn't seem to get a read on him. Was he mad at her? She hadn't done anything, she thought defensively.

His questions bombarded her, too rapid and unlike what she had prepared for to provide a quick, succinct response. "Uhh... no one moment really comes to mind, to be honest, Mr. Mills," she said respectfully, feeling herself start to sweat. No other interview had gotten her so stressed. "My entire life I've just been good at, you know, managing time and people, and planning, so I thought that would make me successful in an administrative role," she explained, surprising herself with her composure.

"I guess if I had to choose one moment, it would be when I complained to my parents when on vacation that they weren't optimizing our days in the city because of their poor planning, so I elected to do it for them, and they ended up agreeing that things went much better under my control. They even suggested I should go into some sort of leadership role, and that probably helped to lead me down this path," she elaborated. She sat up taller and grinned, feeling more confident than she had just a minute ago.

"As for what I want to do... I want to help people be the best that they can, and optimize their performance. I think that's the ultimate goal of an administrative role, and that's what I intend to help you and the company do." She glanced down at the desk, then up at her interviewer, forcing a smile that was meant to show confidence.

“Well, that certainly is a moment you remember that highlights why you might think this is a good career path. Perhaps some day you will have one of those life changing moments.” Wow, she is young, he thought. He could think of several defining points in his life.

“But you keep telling me how these things relate to a job. This is a job interview, but I already think you have the chops to be an AA based on the resume. If no one hired anyone that lacked experience, who would become experienced?” He leaned back and smiled, not realizing it was his first.

“You think about what you first said, that you want to help people perform. You then immediately attached a job to it. Don't box yourself in, because planners and project managers do that, too. I'm not concerned you'll move on from here, that's the when… I'm more worried you won't.”

Sam leaned forward and rested his forearms on the table. “So, unless you want to think bigger than this place, don't waste my time.” He took a long pause and looked her in the eye, “So, Casey James, what do you want to be when you grow up, and what is the last W that isn't a W?”

She stared at him blankly with her mouth gaped slightly, at a loss for words. She examined the man, allowing her eyes to wander more than she knew that she should have. She looked like she wanted to say something, but had no idea what that something was. Inside of her head, she was panicking, flailing, desperately searching for some kind of answer to his question.

She hadn't really thought about her future all that much. She knew what she wanted to find a job doing, and planned on doing that for however long she had to, until she found something better. She hadn't thought about when that would happen, or if it really would at all. But that wasn't a good answer, and definitely wasn't what he was looking for.

"Um... well, I don't want to just stay an AA forever," she began, presuming that was a good start, "I think maybe I'll get into management somewhere, and try to work my way up somewhere. And I want to prosper at my job, obviously, and be able to help provide for my family, you know, assuming I'm settled down by then.”

She cringed. Going off the top of her head wasn't suiting her as well, especially after the way he'd responded to her first attempt. She was flustered and embarrassed. In her mind, there was no chance she was getting this job. Just another failure.

"And the last W," she began, squinting her face. What could it possibly be? She truly had no idea. "Well, I have no clue.”

“Well, you must not have taken any journalism courses. No matter, the other “W” is how. But, I didn't really expect you to know the answer even had you known the question.” He stood up and stretched a little. The day wasn't nearly over for him, but this type of activity just wore him out. The thought of having to do it all over again wasn't appealing in the least.

She seemed to be brighter than the others, and at least she didn't just guess at his question. “Well, if you're wondering why I'm asking these questions instead of the normal trash questions like what's your favorite color, I have an answer. I don't just want an assistant, although I'll want someone who will excel at keeping my… stuff together. I'm looking for a protégé.

I'm good at what I do, but it would be almost criminal not to mentor someone. Not just in this particular field, but provide the tools to succeed in any field. So, I'm the “how” in this story. How will you get where you want? Me. If you want to be an AA, great. Be good enough to work at the White House for the President. Have you ever been? It's quite something. I have to go now and then.”

“Anyway, I'm getting off topic, but here is the question. If I offer you this job, I want you to think beyond it.” Sam knew that most of what he did was mundane, but the fraction that wasn't, dealt with serious government work. “So, do you have any questions for me?”

She nods along to her response, paying 8attention to each word. There was something about him, she thought, that made everything he said seem so valuable. She felt compelled to listen, interested in what he had to say. Any previous skepticism she had evaporated. She didn't just want a job as an AA anymore, she wanted to be *his* AA, to be his disciple, to learn from him. He had something she wanted.

"I... I can do that," she concurred, forcing a smile through her nerves. Somehow, even though she'd flailed at his questions, she felt like she might just have a job, finally. But she didn't want to ruin it.

She searched her mind for a quesiton that would sound good, that would impress him. She looked down to the papers neatly placed in front of her for an answer, but none of them offered an answer. She on her own, and she couldn't get herself to think clearly. Her mind was completely empty. She sighed. "No questions, sir."

“Well, okay… remember what I've told you, but the jobs is yours. Call me Sam when it's just our people, and Mr. Mills when it's appropriate. You'll figure out the difference.” He smiled and held out his hand, “Welcome aboard.”

“Okay, so you'll go and talk to Grace, she's the receptionist, but she knows everything because she's been here forever. She'll go over some basic stuff and what you'll be needing, including clothes.” He smiled but managed not to shake his head. “I don't think a tux fitting is in order, but you two can figure out evening wear.”

That thought hung in his head for a moment. She would occasionally be with him at functions and he knew that they also might have to travel. It really hadn't crossed his mind until just then and it made him pause a moment.

“When she sends you back down to HR they're going to ask lots of personal questions. Answer honestly. They must already believe you can get SECRET clearance if you're here, but you have to have it to work for me.” Sam got up and beckoned her to follow him to the reception desk. “I guess I'll see you Monday morning.”

She stood and shook his hand. All of the nerves were suddenly gone, and she was smiling uncontrollably. "Thanks, Sam... thank you so much," she gratefully responded. It felt like he'd just given her a great gift, or bailed her out of some kind of purgatory. She finally had a job.

She listened intently to his instructions, backing away slightly and locking her eyes on receptionist's desk. The mention of clothing seemed to catch her ear. She didn't necessarily expect this job to necessitate new clothing, so it was just a mild surprise, maybe even with a hint of excitement. She thought fashion was interesting.

She followed close behind him to the reception desk, nodding to everything he said even when he couldn't see her, paying attention to every word. "Monday morning, sounds good," I say pleasantly, holding up a hand to wave goodbye, "thanks again, Sam. And have a good weekend!" I turn to Grace with a grin, ready to get everything sorted out for my new job.

Sam prefers the train to driving, and takes the first train into Center City. It gets in at 6:10, and he can catch up on news and do some work done on the traun before even getting to the office. He'll hit the in house gym, take in the sauna, then shower before going upstairs.

The only one that was ever on the floor before him was Grace, but not today. So, she knocked on his door just before 8:00. Without looking up he said, “Good morning, Grace, you know you don't have to knock on an open door. I assume my new employee is here? Go ahead and send her in. You can show her the ropes thus afternoon.”

“Good morning, Casey, I trust you had a good weekend!” Grace had left her at his door and vanish as only she could. “Come in, come in, and have a seat. I got word you are cleared pending final approval, and that's a formality. We put a rush on it. Well… now that you have the job, you can relax and ask the questions that must have crossed your mind. So, ask away!”

Casey lives close enough that she can walk to the office, although it's still a long walk. She planned to take the train most days, but at least for today, she wanted to walk. She wore black heels, a white skirt that went to her knees, a white dress shirt, and a gray cardigan over top.

She was excited for today. It felt like a new beginning, like the start of a better life. She seldom took the opportunity to just walk through the city and enjoy the sites, but she felt like it today. She left with plenty of time to make sure she would arrive promptly, so she took her time strolling through the city, taking it in.

Grace was the first person she saw upon walking into the office, two minutes early. She said her greetings and was quickly ushered toward Sam's office. She flashed him a bright smile accentuated by her red lipstick, walking into the room and taking a seat across from him. "Good morning, Sam," she replied, "I did, I went out on Saturday with some friends. I hope yours was good, as well."

"I have been wondering," she began. She had many questions. This entire process, from the interview to the hire, had been abnormal, and inspired questions. "There's lots of... paperwork and protocol that I didn't have to do to be hired for my other job. And you mentioned having to go to the White House. So... I've grasped that this--" she motioned her arms to indicate she was talking about the office, "-- is really important, but what exactly do you do that's so... important?”

Sam laughed a little. “I had a feeling this would be the first topic. Please, have a seat.” He indicated a chair, and then sat on the corner of his desk. “So, what do we do here. That's easy. Just as the advertisement said, we're a marketing firm. Ninety-five percent of what we do is just that. We present clients with the best possible options to get what they want sold… sold.”

“Where it gets complicated, is the five percent of government work we do, and the real tough issue come to our floor.” He rubbed his chin and pondered. “Think of a politician as a dog. You walk his, he does his business, it gets picked up, no problem. They call us when the dog crsps on the rug. An antique rug. In some important person's house.”

If she was going to really learn, she'd have to understand. “I can read people and situations. Some came naturally, most is learned. When they need someone to assess a situation for damage control, they call me. They we put together a plan to achieve the best outcome.”

He explained that over time, they had taken on more work from the executive branch, and that's was now most of their client base. Often, to get the information they needed, it would require social events. “The entire interview last week, I was reading you. One thing was clear, you were trying to read me as well. Everyone does it subconsciously, buy most don't on purpose. It's one reason you're here.”

"I get it," Casey replies, a smirk of understanding inhabiting her face, "you-- well, *we* ... cover things up that can't come out." She studied him still, her efforts to get a read on him not completely finished quite yet. She thought back. Everything made sense now. "Seems like interesting work. I look forward to seeing... you know, under the hood."

She looked around the room, studying his office, looking for anything that might tell her anything about him. Ever since the interview, she'd been fascinated with him. How he managed to read her so easily, make her so uncomfortable, ask questions that told so much about her. It was impressive, albeit mysterious. She couldn't help but think about it, and want to know more.

She shook her head and stopped herself, meeting his eyes again. "Next question," she grinned, "I know that every place is different, every person is different. At my old job, I rarely talked to my boss. I just helped plan and coordinate for him, sat in on meetings, wrote briefings for him, but we were very separate." She glanced down at his desk, then back up at him, "So, how involved or not involved do you plan for me to be in your, well, day-to-day?”

He watched her come to a quick understanding, even if it wasn't quite accurate. “Well, we may assist people who cover things up. However, our…job, is to make a plan on how certain things can kept private.” He assumed she would pick up the lingo.

Yes, he thought to himself, you look around this office Casey James. It's as sanitized as surgical tools. His other small space down near the gym had his private effects. That and a shower, bed, and changes of clothes. Even Grace wasn't aware he had the space.

“Well Casey, we'll meet every morning and go over the daily. Your desk is right there,” He pointed just outside the office. “The glass walls can be made opaque, but rarely are. Once you clearance comes through… by the way, it's mostly called ‘access’, there won't be much you can't hear. In fact, I'll need you in here for phone conversations at times.”

“So I can't give you an exact boring to exciting ratio, nor how much time we'll work in tandem. But it will involve some nights and weekends, as well as travel. That was all in the job description. But that can't be all you want to know. Do you want to spend the whole day with Grace?” He threatened.

While listening to him, she scrunched her face, frustrated by the lack of personality to the office. It only made her more curious about him. Did he keep it like this on purpose, with the intention of creating mystery? It seemed far-fetched to her.

She studied his desk, then his clothing, letting her eyes wander. She knew he was reading her too, and that she shouldn't be scanning him like she was, but strangely, she couldn't stop herself. She looked at the ground afterward, too nervous to meet his eyes. She could feel her cheeks turning red.

She tried to think of another question that would make sense, that might impress him. Nothing came to her. But it was true: she didn't want to spend the whole day with Grace. She looked up at him and smiled, trying to appear as confident as possible. "I want to know more about you. You know, since my job is working for you.”

“Well, I will be 50 in a couple months, I have a wife and daughter. She's a bit younger than you. I went to school around here. Temple for undergrad and Penn for my masters. I went to work for the government for several years, and once I get the word, I can tell you about it.”

He turned and walked to the window and admired the view. “I am definitely enjoying the new digs. It's a beautiful view of the Delaware, wouldn't you agree?” He took a pause. “So after those years, I used one of my minors, communications, to land this job in marketing. But, it's all about what you market to whom.” He trailed off. “And you? How did life land you here with me?”

Casey winced involuntarily at the mention of a wife. She didn't even fully, consciously understand why she did, but it certainly didn't happen for no reason at all. She could only hope that Sam had missed it. She was not even ready to confront why she had done it with herself, let alone with him.

At the mention of Penn, she let out a small, impressed, "wow." She suddenly felt very small. She was a naive twenty year old who lived alone in a tiny apartment that had been happy to land a simple office job, and he had a masters degree from Penn, a wife, a child, and seemed to be elite at his job. The level of inferiority it made her feel to think through it in her head was sickening. She almost didn't want to talk about herself.

"Me, I grew up in a suburb near Pittsburgh. I went to Penn State to get my associate's in business, but I guess you already know that from my resume. Then I moved here for my first job, and, well, decided to stay once they laid me off," she said, frowning at how boring her life sounded. "I actually got scholarship offers from a lot of colleges for volleyball... but, um, I turned them all down," she added on.

Sam watched her body language. There was no wedding band on his finger, because he hated wearing jewelry. He had one, of course, and other high end pieces. They were all props to him, though. She wasn't exactly an open book to him, but he could read quite a bit.

“Penn State is an excellent school. Plenty of my friends went there. These days, even getting a bachelor's degree can be overkill. Experience is where it's at…” It was true. She could get a long way if she worked out here. The desk phone made a slight beep and flash, and Sam walked behind the desk and answered it.

“Mills… Yes. Right here with me.” He looked at Casey and held eye contact while he listened to the other end of the call. “Well, sure. Guess we'll find out. Hold.” He tapped a button. “Casey, that's the department getting you access. Just answer completely and truthfully.”

He tapped the button and listed for about half a minute taking notes. Then he hit another button on the phone. “Casey James, you are not under oath but this is being recorded. On April 9, 2020, you met and spent approximately 4 hours and 48 minutes with a man named Jack Henderson. Please describe the circumstances, discussions, and all actions you recall from that encounter.”

She watched him pick up the phone and talk, curious what was going on. "Okay," she replied quietly so his instruction, feeling confident she would be able to answer whatever the question might be.

Her head shot up when she heard the name Jack Henderson, then she started to giggle. She covered her mouth to stop herself. "Sorry... um, I went to high school with Jack... um, Henderson. I don't know the specific date, but the only time I saw him outside of school was when we were in a Calc class together. He was completely lost, and we kind of knew each other because he was my best friend's boyfriend's friend, so he asked me to go to his house and help him study," she explained, staring at the desk while she spoke, recalling the events. She looked up at Sam to make sure he didn't have any sort of objection, then continued.

"So then I went to his house, and I explained it all to him for a few hours. I'm pretty sure it was about integration, not that that matters. Anyway, I helped him with it until he said he understood it, then I was about to leave and he said I was..." she trailed off, having to pause for embarrassment, her entire face quickly flushing red, "he said I was smart for a cute girl, and then we started making out, and, uh... we had sex. Then I went home." She exhaled, happy to be done telling that story.

“What you discussed is what matters, and that was school work. Nothing else.” He grabbed the receiver again and listened. He chuckled. “Well, everything is everything. Oh sure, that's what I going… “ He laughed harder. “Yes. Okay… when? Good.” He hung up an smiled. “Everything should be fine, Casey.”

Sam took the scribble of notes he took from the tablet on his desk, and fed them into a shredder. “Every piece of paper gets shredded or filed before we leave. Even the day to day paperwork. Unless specifically told otherwise, assume everything is for our eyes only. Other that those two cabinets with the safe dials, you'll have full access to this office. Well, stay out of this drawer, too.” He tapped the top one on his desk.

“I would like to dig into one of these files and get your take on it, but I have to wait for them to call back and let me know you're cleared. If they are down to some no name who gave you a poke in the pants in high school, they have to be almost done.” He sighed. “Well, any others burning questions or observations?”

Casey looked away and sighed, thoroughly embarrassed. She certainly hadn't expected to be telling that story when she came to work on her first day. She tried to compose herself, taking a deep breath and fixing her hair while she watched and listened to him.

"Okay," she replied, then tilted her head and looked to the ceiling, trying to think of another question. Her eyes flicked back down to him, first wandering down his body before again meeting his eyes. "I've got nothing," she said after a long pause, trying not to laugh at herself. "What did you do this weekend?" she asked half-jokingly, resorting to a standard question. Her body language opened up slightly and her eyes widened, indicating that she really was curious about the answer.

He smiled and really noticed the color of her eyes. “Well, that's interesting. That's the same tone my daughter uses when she sasses me, but you're genuinely curious. I'm going to have to make a note of that.”

He thought about giving a few details of his home life but decided against it. “Mostly I just did boring home life crap like watching television and reading, but I did have a short trip. I took a chopper to Teterboro, hopped a quick flight to Aroostook County, Maine. Landed between two potato fields.”

He shook his head, “Exciting stuff. Now you know why I'm intent on mentoring you. You can go have dinner with the clodhopper instead of me.” He wanted to see if he could tease her. “I mean, it's better for me, I get to stay home. I'm sure he'll be happy as a pig in shit to dine with you instead of me…”

“...and you're the rookie who's stuck with it! The exhilaration of the bumpy chopper, the stomach churning flight,” He was stifling a laugh with his hand, “Then the charming spectacle of toothless mastication of the best twelve dollar steak available in town!” He laughed, “Yes, it's quite glamorous.”

Casey squinted at him, now hiding the blue of her eyes. She let out a single laugh in response to his, but she genuinely couldn't tell if he was serious, or at what point he stopped being serious. "Oh yes, just a casual trip to Maine, nothing special," she joked. She wasn't averse to travel, but she rarely got the opportunity, so the casual mention of such a trip stood out to her.

"Oh, I see. You're just hiring me so I can do your dirty work," she said grinning, teasing him back, "I'm just here to get you out of going to Maine on your weekends." She didn't mean it, and she made sure to make that as obvious as possible with her tone of voice. "I've never been on a helicopter before, though, so I guess I'd do it.”

“See? Now you're getting it! But before you get to do the dirty work, I have to know you're ready and have the expertise to get positively filthy…” He stopped. “Figuratively, of course…”

“In reality, we read situations and that's generally all of it. Stay in the background like a stick of furniture. On a rare occasion I might deliver a message. But don't get too excited, you'll realize the majority of what we do isn't all that exciting.”

Grace appeared at the door. Sam acknowledged her, and she nodded her head toward Casey and then nodded a “yes.” He look mildly impressed. “Well, that was quick. Perhaps the boys know how important I am now!” He laughed.

“The guy in Maine went to a political rally and saw something he shouldn't. Of the three who saw it, one is in prison, one is dead, and this guy is left. So yes, I delivered the message in the form of an autopsy photo. But anyone can do that.” He watched her for a reaction. “My real task was to be able to say with near certainly that the message was clear and he'd never speak of the event. Ever.”

He figured he would let her draw her own conclusions, but he said, “I could tell you a little more about it, since you've been cleared, but it's over.” Sam got serious. “So, I think you might have an inate ability to read people. It was part of my training and employment, so a lot of it is learned. I'm here to teach you.”

“Do you play poker?”

Casey nodded along, listening intently, genuinely interested in what had happened, and how this job worked. She hardly reacted when she turned back to see Grace and realized she'd gotten her clearance, simply flashing a satisfied smile. She hadn't expected anything else.

She simply stared at him while he explained the Maine situation her fascinated squint indicating she understood exactly what he meant. "I see," she responded, leaning back in her seat and crossing her legs, "sounds like a fun way to spend your weekend, I guess."

She exhaled in amusement at the mention of poker. "I don't actively, but I have. My dad has a gambling problem, so he taught me how to play when I was like six or seven, so he had someone to play with when his buddies weren't around," she explained, smirking, "I got pretty good. I would clear him out just about every time.”

“Pretty good, eh. Okay, let's see about that.” He went to his desk, opened a bottom drawer and retrieved a deck of cards. “Okay, you must know Texas Hold-em then.” Sam used a cascade shuffle with a butterfly cut, then dealt two card face down to each of them. “C'mon, pull that chair up, let's play!”

Sam didn't look at his hole cards, but waited for her to check while watching her intently but surreptitiously. “I don't have any chips, but let's say blinds are 10/20, as the small blind I call. Action is on you, bet, check, or fold? Forty bucks in the pot.”

It would surprise people how much they give away through non-verbal clues. He'd been watching it all his life. Now he wanted to know just how much she would give away. He would play straight for now, knowing he was capable of manipulating the hands any way he wished.

Casey stood and pulled her chair closer to the desk. She smiled, excited yet nervous. She hadn't played in a few years, and worried that she might have lost her edge. At her best, she didn't give up much and could get a good read on anyone-- although she was mostly playing against her dad and his poker buddies, who were rarely fully sober.

She flipped up the edges of her cards, holding a hand over them to be safe. Her face was stone cold, but she knew she couldn't keep it up if she looked him in the eyes. She rubbed over her collarbone once, then tapped two fingers on the desk to check, then looked up at him, again studying the way he sat, his expression, his movements. Her eyes would skate away from his whenever he looked her in the eyes.

“That won't do it, you know. The eyes… tell lies. So, a checks good? Okay, burn and turn.” He discarded the top card, counted the next three, and flopped then across the desk. The cards were queen of spades, nine of clubs, and eight of hearts. He had yet to look at his hole cards, but finally did after watching her during the flop.

“Check to you Casey.” This would be a telling moment for her, but even more for him. It really wasn't the cards, it was what she would try and do with them. It would definitely be an insight on how he would need to train her. “What's your pleasure?”

She sighed internally. This was going to be tough. She knew she was generally good at reading people and keeping a straight face, but the problem was him. He just had a certain ability to break her down, to make it difficult for her to lie and keep a straight face. She knew playing poker while avoiding eye contact was impractical, but the alternative wasn't attractive either.

She didn't have much of a physical reaction to the flop, her quickly flipping from the cards to his. Her eyes got caught on his, which made her blush ever so slightly. Just as she feared, she couldn't look him in the eye. She shifted in her seat slightly, then rubbed her collarbone again. "Fifty," she said, her voice cold and flat, much different from her usual tone.

“A bet. My my…” He leaned in and looked at her face. It wasn't too bad, and most people wouldn't be able to read it. What had caused the slight flush to her face. It wasn't the cards, she hadn't checked her hole cards and it had happened after the flop. The bet? He didn't think fifty bucks was much, but while HR had all kinds of financial data on her, he didn't.

He checked his hole cards to see if she watched him. Then he scrunched his face a little just for fun. “Okay, you may just be trying to keep me in this and slowly bleed me, but I'll pay to see it. Call.” He burned a card to discard and turned over a queen of diamonds. “And the board pairs… that makes the pot $140. I'll check back to the bettor.”

He knew she'd caught a piece of the flip, but the reaction was so slight, he assumed on of the undercards, not the queen. Now he figured her for it. Trip queens was a strong hand, and now he caught the tell that probably no one knew. That was worth anything he could lose monetarily.

Casey watched as he checked his cards, but didn't get much from it. She noticed an expression change, but didn't plan on basing her play off of it. He was smart enough to fake that, she thought.

She had no discernable reaction to the turn. She glanced down at the window, then back down toward the desk. She looked up to watch him while she said, "A hundred."

She knew better than to make any assumptions, especially going off of what she already knew about him, but she thought he must have *something*, especially if he called this time. If he had a queen, she thought, then he was playing it off well.

“Another bet. Let me look at you.” He looked at her face. Again, not bad. She didn't give anything away while she knew he was watching. Of course, none of this was about money at all. “I'm going to raise you there, Miss James, so with my hundred, that makes the pot $240.”

He pulled out his money clip. Now it was time to try and intimidate her. He peeled offf ten $100 bills and counted them as he did so. “Plus, another thousand. Don't worry, I know you're good for it if you want to call.” He laughed and smiled. “So, you might get yourself a nice little bonus here, or be into me for a little over a grand.”

“What do you think?”

Her eyes widened when she saw the money. She watched him count each bill closely, eyes locked on the bills. She understood this wasn't about the money, but she still wanted it.

She studied him though, the laugh and the smile. He was trying to intimidate her, that much was obvious. It was tempting to fold, owe him a few hundred, and move on, but her gut told her to keep going. Perhaps she had her father's gambling spirit.

She met his eyes, and studied them, searching for any indication. She felt herself blushing again, but it was really nothing to do with the poker. She just got lost in his eyes a moment, then snapped out of it. In spite of her mental lapse, she said with confidence, "Twenty-two hundred." It might've been stupid; maybe she was just sending herself into debt, making a bet that she certainly couldn't afford to pay in the near future, but she trusted her gut. She didn't think he had anything.

“Re-raise.” He looked at her straight in the eye without a hint of emotion on his face. To ten grand.” He stood up and walked over to a painting that obviously hung on a hinge, opened it to reveal a safe. Sam worked on knob, then the other before popping the handle.

He withdrew something and closed the safe without spinning the dials. Back at the desk he tossed a banded stack of 100s on the loose bills. “It really doesn't look like much, does it? But, to be clear, we will travel in a world where it actually is not much. But it ain't our world, and we just can't react like that's a huge pile of cash. Ever.”

He sat back down. “I have put you in quite a pickle, haven't I? It's not all my fault, but you have a tough choice. Fold and owe me a couple grand, or risk it and go big.” He drummed his fingers. Perhaps he was being a little mean for her first day. “I'll tell you what. Just because this is a learning exercise, I'll let you back out.”

Psychological probing was just so much fun he couldn't help himself. “However, I can tell you there is an out for you on the river, as slim as it may be…” He laughed.

She tried to keep a straight face, but once he offered backing out, she leaned back and shook her head. She looked up at the ceiling and squinted, as if running the numbers in her head. Finally, she looked back down to Earth, grimacing and shaking her head again.

"Over a long run of many trials, I think I like my odds. And I think you're bluffing. But if I'm wrong, I'd be in big trouble financially, and I just can't take the risk." She pushed her cards toward him, her lips pursed, frustrated with herself.

"I want to know what you think I had, though. Don't tell me what you had. I'll want to kill myself if you bluffed," she said, flashing a smile. She was more interested in how well he was able to read her, and how he thought, than anything else. Of course, she was curious if her reads were accurate, but she knew it would sting if they were. Even if they weren't, she dodged a bullet, but that means she couldn't read him. It was a lose-lose to find out.

“You had about a 14% chance of winning, and…” He peeked two cards into the deck, “...you would have been washing my car for the next five years.” He turned the card which was a duece of clubs. “No help, see? When the flop was a rainbow, you never would have bet a flush draw even with suited hole cards.”

He leaned back and put his feet on his desk. “Damn! I should have set the hook! I could have used a shoeshine, too.” He winked. “Then when the board paired the queens, there would have been no way you could have hid it from me.”

“Besides, you would have been calling your banker to see how much you could bet with four of a kind. Same with a boat, it would beat anything, too. But you didn't hit either, because you hesitated. You have a tell, too. Anyway, that left either trip queens or two pair.”

“Either way, you had six outs of forty-two cards and the rest is math. I'll bet 10 grand on an 86% bet any day.” He watched her follow his explanation. Then he flipped his jack 10 over. “I flopped the nut straight. You were behind the odds from the start.”

"Damn, I'm an idiot," she said, hanging her head, "at least I'm not a bankrupt idiot, I guess." She sighed, feeling tiny in his presence once again. He was married with a child, went to Penn, and humiliated her at a game she thought she was good at, what next? It only made him all the more intriguing to her, though. She wasn't sure she'd encountered a person so interesting, and now he was her boss.

She nodded as he explained his thought process, occasionally sighing or shaking her head-- everything made sense now. Playing so risky with the 8 and 10 of spades didn't seem as smart as it had mere minutes ago. She hadn't picked up anything, apparently; her read was dead wrong. Sure, he got lucky, but she didn't pick up on it at all-- and that was the point of this entire exercise.

"I promise, I really was pretty good a few years ago, although I was mostly playing against drunks," she said, trying to save some face, quickly turning red again. "I mean, I think I could handle some hick from Maine," she joked, then giggled lightly at her own remark.

“Don't underestimate hicks. I've had them outwit me. In fact, don't underestimate anyone.” He boxed the cards after gathering them and doing another fancy shuffle. “Don't feel too bad about the poker. I'm a shifty guy! And I did get lucky, but! Things like that are going to happen.”

“Here.” He flipped her the ten thousand stack. “Feel it, smell it, get used to it.” He grabbed a pad with a lucite back. “Always write on one sheet of paper with a hard surface. Grace will explain. Are you good with numbers?” He was writing on the paper, finished, and handed it to her “Here, put that cash back in the safe. Open and close it a few times to get the hang of it, learn the combination, and shred it. We change it weekly.”

He watched her walk away. It certainly would be a different atmosphere at meetings, for sure. “Did Grace have you get something for evening wear?” He paused, “That was a little out of the blue. But I only use filters in public, so I hope you get used to me. This is going to be a different dynamic.”

"I know, but I think it would be easier, like..." she groaned, "you know what I meant." Why couldn't he just let her have anything? Everything felt like a point of contention. She felt frustrated, but she couldn't really be frustrated with him; he was mentoring her, after all, and if this is what he feels is the best way to do it, then so be it. She couldn't argue with that.

She grabbed the money slightly faster than she would any other object-- it was a subtle difference. She examined the stack with wide eyes, moving it up and down to feel its weight in her hand, then running her thumb along the side, watching each bill flip up. They weren't exactly heavy, but it felt heavy to her in a more metaphorical way. That amount of money could change her life drastically-- if not in the long term, at least in an immediate sense.

She took the paper, then looked up at him. "I'm decent," she said. She stood and walked to the safe in slow strides, feeling as if she was being examined, now that her back was turned to him. She started to open the safe. She messed up the numbers the first time, but identified her mistake quickly, and didn't err again, opening and closing the safe several times, putting the money in and out.

"She talked to me about it. I went out and bought a dress," she replied, back still turned, opening the safe one last time. She put the money in, closed it, and placed the paper in the shredder, then walked back to her chair, but didn't sit down just yet.

“Did you get a good look in the safe? There's nothing secret in there, and no one else gets in it but us.” He thought about all that was in it. “You'll probably never have to get in it unless I need you to get something. But… in the flat case on the bottom is a FN P90 submachine gun. A gift from the Secret Service. Leave that alone us you want to go to the range for training.”

“Sit sit…” He hadn't really taken a good look at anything but her face until just a moment ago. On purpose, he told himself, but he was definitely needing to see what others would be seeing. “Was that a cocktail dress you purchased, perchance?”

“There is a minor event this coming weekend, it is formal, but there isn't any number attached to it, so…” Sam paused and realized she wasn't up on lingo, “If something has a “number attached” it means a sanctioned job on the books. The number has meaning. I'll explain it to you later.”

The little gathering was some donor event, and all he was being asked to do was bring up a candidates name a few times. He was going to take his wife, Elle, and still might, depending. “I have to attend. and my wife may accompany me. If you have plans, you can beg off this time. After this, all evening and weekend plans are soft until you confirm with me. Enjoying your first day so far?”

"It was," she replied, grinning while she sat back down. She rarely had an excuse to go shopping, and she'd had fun picking out a dress. She was excited to get to wear it, so the mention of the event seemed to make her perk up.

"I'll go," she responded through a smile with no hesitation whatsoever. She didn't have any plans, and she had various reasons why she wanted to go, so why not? She wondered if she seemed a bit too eager, but didn't see why that would possibly be interpreted as a bad thing. She glanced away at for the briefest moment at the mention of his wife, but she obviously still wanted to go.

"I am. It's interesting. A lot more interesting my old job, I can tell you that." She was understating her intrigue. The job itself interested her, sure, but her first day had been enjoyable moreso because of her interest in him. She hadn't fully recognized such quite yet, though.

“Well good. Has Grace seen it? No matter, if she hasn't get her a picture or something. The firm will get some nice accessories for you.” He looked at her again, appraising, then whistled softly. “Wait'll those old geezers get a look at you, Casey. Be prepared, and stick close to me for awhile. I'm sure you can hold your own, and most are well behaved, but… well.”

Sam had never had a female assistant, particularly an attractive one. Well, he thought, at least I can feed them subliminally while she distracts them. God, please don't let the dress be low cut. “Just try not to slap anyone if they try and play grab ass. Then let me know if anyone doesn't understand what a firm ‘no’ means.”

“Other than that, it's just a standard training op.” He said, “Nothing to do but have caviar, canapés and champagne. Just not more than one glass an hour. We'll discuss the finer points of drinking later.” He pondered his next words and measured them carefully. “Assuming Elle comes, just keep an eye on her. She's a pro at being… my partner.”

Her eyes tracked his. Watching him inspect her body made her beet red in a matter of seconds. It was exciting. His comment made her blush harder than she knew she was capable of. She couldn't see herself, but she knew it was bad. She had to look away and put a hand over the part of his face that was still visible to him. She wondered if he would keep looking, now that she wouldn't see. Those thoughts certainly weren't helping her calm down the situation.

"I'll do my best. As long as we stick together, it shouldn't be a problem." She liked eyes on her, and that was certainly in mind when she picked out her dress. The problem was, of course, anything more than eyes. Especially from a group that she could infer would be mostly older men. She didn't mind, though, insofar as it would be a good excuse to stick close to Sam.

"Sounds like a good time. I look forward to it," she said plainly, smiling genuinely. She'd never really been to an overly fancy event coming from a working class family, so she was excited simply to experience it, whether it was for work or not. Luxury seemed enticing.

“Casey. Look at me. Why are you blushing?” He tried the fatherly smile that had quit working on his own child years ago. “Because I think the people you're going to be around will find you attractive? Well, you might want to lock that down!” He chuckled just a little. “That's just a wee bit of a tell there, card shark.”

There was something else going on here, and he must have missed it. She wasn't just hiding her face, she was hiding from him! Well, if he was going to miss something, it was almost always personal. That's why he always did this kind of work for others. If it involved him, it skewed his judgement.

There were two ways to deal with this, he thought. If he dealt with it on it's face, he might embarrass her to the point of not being able to work together. The idea of starting over was bad enough, but he liked her and she was sharp. However, if he did nothing it could get messy. Perhaps he could really put the question to her and see where it went.

If he realized it, he didn't acknowledge it, but he puffed up a little. He was probably right, and it wasn't that other men might find her attractive, it was that he saw it. But she had to know. Her face was not just cute, but she was a real beauty. Not to mention her shapely figure. It made him feel good.

“Do you not want to answer? It's okay if you don't. But at some juncture, you're going to realize that even if you can hide something from me, it's probably not wise. But I get it, we don't know one another that we'll. Alright?”

She finally turned back toward him once her face was under control again, though her skin still hadn't fully returned to its regular tint. She squinted slightly, knowing she had to be quick with a response, but she had to avoid any missteps; if she'd learned anything from the poker game, he would take advantage of any mistake she made, and back her into a corner.

As far as she saw it, she had three options: tell the truth, tell a completely lie, or something in between. Telling the truth, if she could even get herself to do it, would make their work relationship beyond awkward for the foreseeable future, if it didn't lose her the job on the spot. Telling a lie was an attractive option, but that was assuming it would work, which she was almost certain it wouldn't. He was too sharp, and had an ability to just melt her. She'd just be backed into a corner.

A half-truth, she thought, might suffice. Sam had showed his cards enough for her to know that she couldn't try to pull anything. She had to look him in the eyes, and tell it like it was the truth. If she didn't play it off well enough, too bad. There was no other way to do it. "Sorry, I think I'm just not used to compliments. Maybe I should work on that a little, for the future, " she replied, simply keeping the *from you* at the end of the first sentence in her head. She smirked slightly, which she hoped wouldn't be grounds to shoot down her lie, given the circumstances.

“Hmm… Is that what we're going with?” Sam wasn't convinced, but this wasn't a time to push it. It was enough that she wanted to keep it hidden. If she could handle the work, he could get her through the social aspect. “I hope you like to read,” He said, changing the subject. “You have to background people all the time.”

“I know more about fly fishing than I ever thought I would. Guess what? I've never been fishing in my life. But it's a big hobby in some circles. So I can make solid conversation. You'll see.” He jotted down a couple thoughts and saw Grace headed his way.

“Casey, I do believe you are about to be in the clutches of the office manager. I have to be out for the next two days, so…” Grace entered the office and waited. “Grace, would you make reservations for two at Bookbinder's for Wednesday at 8:00.” She nodded to Sam. “Casey, I assume you are free for dinner? Grace will show you the ropes until then.” He gave her a big wink before reaching for his phone to make a few calls.

Casey's lips curled slightly into a faint smile that she quickly suppressed when he changed the subject. She couldn't take much pressing on the matter before she would break down, so she appreciated the change, whether it was purposeful or not.

"I love to read," she replied, "I need to do it more anyway." She was finally settling back into her chair, leaning back just when she heard footsteps, and turned around to see Grace at the door. She begrudgingly stood and turned from Sam, disappointed to be leaving him behind for Grace.

She was glad her back was turned, though, at the mention of reservations. Dinner with him? She sported a giddy grin reminiscent of that of a young child whose parent had just bought them the newest toy. Had Sam seen it, it would've been beyond embarrassing. Grace could probably see it through her periphery, but she wasn't nearly as worried about her.

"Of course, I'll see you then," she said pleasantly a few seconds later, once she'd pulled herself together. She stepped out of his office doorway, giving him a small, friendly wave as she followed Grace away.


“Well, that was two days I'll never get back.” Sam sighed and pulled a couple bills from his money clip. He handed them to the driver and said, “Just let me off at the corner.” He had no luggage, just his leather satchel to carry, and it was a beautiful evening in Philadelphia. It had really been a lousy couple days, but his mood was light. It was something he was pondering on his walk.

He was good at introspection, but it wasn't nearly as sharp as his reads on other people. Now, there was a realization that he had wanted to shower and change. That was nothing like an evening meeting with anyone else, just this one. He had pondered flowers walking by a stand, but that was something saved for his wife. It felt like he was going on date. He arrived at the restaurant, opened the door with a sigh, and put his thoughts away for later.

“Good evening, Mr. Mills. Your usual table is ready, and your guest has arrived and been seated,” the maitre de said. He made his way across the establishment, nodding at a few people, and saw her seated back toward him. “Good evening, Casey.” When she turned her head towards him, he leaned down and gave her a peck on the cheek.

“What in the actual hell?!” He thought to himself. Why would he ever do that? Even though he had just shocked himself, he played it off. “I trust they have been treating you well?” He sat and unfolded his napkin. “And have they not offered you anything to drink?” He smiled genuinely.

Casey spent most of her spare time in the next two days daydreaming about her date. She knew it wasn't really a date, but she couldn't help but think of it as one. It gave her something to look forward to both at home and at work, where she spent most of her time being trained by Grace. She didn't mind it, but it hadn't been nearly as exciting as her time with Sam on the first day.

Right when she got home from work, she showered. It was abnormal for her-- normally she would wait until later, near when she turned in for the night. But she wanted to feel and look clean for him. She spent longer than she normally would on her makeup, though she still didn't wear much. She didn't really feel that she needed much, after all. She chose to wear a deep red lipstick that matched the blouse she planned to wear. She put on the blouse, black stockings, a knee-length black skirt, and black boots, then made her way to the restaurant by foot.

Over the last few days, she'd had plenty of time to reflect. She was no longer in any kind of denial about her attraction to her boss. It was regrettable, but she couldn't help it. She knew it was highly improbable, if not entirely impossible, that they would ever be more than just coworkers, but that didn't make the feelings go away. She just had to try her best to keep it a secret, which she knew would be difficult, and use nights like these to play pretend.

She arrived before him, but not by too much. The peck on the cheek took her by surprise, and suddenly she was already blushing. Not a good start, she thought. She didn't want to read into it too much-- maybe he did that with everyone. She didn't know him well enough to be certain, and he seemed relatively casual about it. That didn't stop her heart from pounding her chest, though.

"Well enough," she replied, grinning, happy to be seeing his features once again, "they're nice, but I'd be lying if I said it was as interesting without you. No poker or anything.”

“Be careful about playing with Grace. I have a feeling she'd clean us both out!” He laughed. “I do like a nice wine with dinner, but I've never asked if you drink. I hope you didn't wait on my account.” He opened the wine menu beside his plate. “I don't even know why I look at this, I eat here all the time.”

A server came to the table and stood with one hand in front of the other. “Ah, James! I trust you are well.” He smiled and nodded at Sam. “Well, you can't go wrong here, but I like my steak. The seafood is renowned, though.” Then to the server, “James, apportez une bouteille de Chateau de Coulaine 2920. Et si la dame commande des fruits de mer, aussi… Rias Baixas, pour favor.” The server nodded and retreated.

“You look very nice, tonight.” He smiled, but didn't have much to say. That wasn't usual for him, because small talk was part of his business. “I'll bet you had more fun at the office than I did, though. I had to convince two complete morons to stop pestering a client. Nothing worse than dealing with low intelligence. I had to shoot them both in the end, so what a waste of time, no?”

He waited. “Casey. It's a joke. I'm not an assassin.” The bottle of wine arrived. Sam waved off the cork, but sipped the taste that was poured into his glass after a quick swirl. “C'est bon.” The server poured the glass half full and waited patiently. “Would you like to join me in a glass of wine?” Then to James, “Je crois que je l'ai d'ici, merci.”

"I do, although it's more occasional now than when I was in college. Wine does sound nice, though." She took a moment take in her surroundings, appreciate them. It wasn't often she got to out like this, and she was thankful for it. She beamed at him for a brief second, though she made sure her eyes didn't overstay their welcome. It made her feel warm inside just to look at him. There's no one else she would've rather been having dinner with.

"French," she stated simply in an impressed tone once the server had left. It surprise her in the slightest, at this point. It was fun to spend time with him-- she never knew what she would learn about him next, but she was always certain it would be both impressive and interesting.

She had to look away for a moment after his compliment. There was no doubt he had a knack for making her face red. "Thank you, Sam," she responded after a moment, a wide grin spread across her face. She looked down at her outfit. It was definitely nice, maybe too nice. Was it too obvious that she was trying to impress him? Her mind wandered a moment on that one until he snapped her out of it with his joke. She was too afraid to ask, so she just gave him a confused, squinty look that eased into an amused smile once he clarified.

"Of course!" she said enthusiastically, watching the wine bubble in his glass. She waited for the server to leave. "So, I have a question: what do you, like, do for fun?" She leaned back and watched his face, interested in his response. She wanted to try to move toward casual conversation.

“Ah, to ask that one must assume I have fun. In our business, at least the fun part, we don't assume.” He artfully dodged the question, but decided he might answer just for fun. He was beginning to enjoy making her blush. Maybe it could help her get over it. “Actually, I like to work with my hands. At my house in Society Hill, I have the basement turned into a shop for leather and woodworking.”

He took the wine bottle and poured her a glass. “Here, give this a try. It's a Chinon. Fruity and a hint of spice, medium body… but it tastes like red wine to me. But good red wine. Idiots just buy the most expensive bottle, which only impresses other Idiots. And yes, French! A little Russian, too. Learned it from my old man. Ordering in another language can be impressive, especially attractive young ladies.” He winked at her.

“Oh, stop it!” she said, although she didn’t really want him to stop, again having to cover her face. The red which had just gone away now was returning once again. She wondered, was he flirting with her? Maybe she was just delusional, but she didn’t think he was acting much like he was married with comments like that. Maybe there was a shred of a chance, she thought. Her infatuation with him was only getting worse, and he was fueling it with comments like that. Though she was trying to calm down her blushing, she found herself daydreaming about him doing woodworking. Could he get any more attractive?

She gave up on keeping the blushing hidden, and reached for the glass he had poured her. She sipped. It wasn’t what she expected from wine, necessarily, but it was exactly what he had described. “That’s, um, pretty good. I don’t really know anything about wine,” she said candidly before sipping again. She knew she needed to watch herself with the alcohol— she did have a secret to keep, so she wanted to stay sharp. But the wine was enticing. She took another sip.

“That's the best advice I can give for drinking wine. Drink what tastes good. Now impressing the wine snobs is a different matter.” He swirled the wine in his glass. “If you hang around long enough, I'll teach you how to pick wines. It can be a more powerful tool than you realize.” He pondered for a moment. He could keep teaching her, because these kinds of dinners happened often with others. Or, he could have some fun, which was all too rare.

Perhaps he could do both. He reached into suit jacket pocket and pulled out his key ring. “Now, something else you have to learn is how to direct conversion to elicit information you want. It was apparent the tidbit of what I do in my spare time wasn't enough, but you let me prattle on about wines.”

“So, part of that could be you're new, or that I'm your boss, but you're going to come into contact with very powerful people, and I can't have you wilting. We'll work on it. But…” He put the keys in the middle of the table. There were only three keys on a ring, but the leather fob was unique. It was about 4” long, perhaps 2” wide, and the hand tooled leather was exquisite. One one side there was an elongated ‘X’ created with thorny roses. On the other was the word IMPERITO in a very fancy font.

He motioned for her to pick it up, as she would likely wonder about the weight. “I used to have more keys, so I made that. There is simply no way to put a ring of keys in a pocket without ruining the lines of the suit. So I made that. It slips into a pocket and the keys can swing free.” He was debating on just how much he could tell her at this point without going too far.

Casey picked up the ring, holding it up to get a closer look. "You made this yourself?" she asked, inspecting the leatherwork, astounded. It was so intricate; she didn't know much about leatherworking, but she could only imagine how difficult it must be to make something of such quality.

Placing the ring back on the table, she nodded as he explained, suddenly interested in leatherwork now that she knew it to be a hobby of his. "So like, how long does it take to make something like this?" she asked, eyes meeting his before glancing back down at the fob. She pointed to the word. "And this, Latin, I assume? What does it mean?" She reached for her wine again and took a substantial sip.

“Oh, the cutting, sewing, and edging was quick and easy, but the tooling took a couple days. But every piece I make that has tooling like that makes me appreciate those hand made saddles! That one, if you noticed the weight, is leaded. I've used lead in other work, but that was tricky. I won't go deeper into the process…”

“I get a little carried away, I don't talk about my hobbies much.” He picked up the fob and looked at the dye pattern he'd used to make the letters stand out. He was quiet for a moment, then looked up. He caught James’ eye and held up two fingers sideways. “If you'd like something stronger than wine, tell James, “He said, then muttered under his breath, “I'm about to need one.”

“That is indeed Latin, and I didn't even think about it when I showed it to you, but, I know if I don't tell you, you'll Google it the moment you're out of my sight.” He sighed. “So, I could tell you it's Spanish, which is part of the joke, but… this is something you're likely to figure out if we work together as closely as I have with other assistants. Guess I'll know if it was too much if you aren't at work tomorrow…”

“Imperito means inexperienced in Spanish, but the Latin root, spelled the same, means ‘to command’. Hence the joke. My leather and woodworking hobby overlaps another. I make and use items meant for fetish play.” He stopped as James arrived with his two fingers of Red Breast, and Sam took a good slug. “Cocktail Casey?”

She went quiet, truly at a loss for words. Perhaps she'd flown too close to the sun, and found out more than she was ready for. "Oh," she said, trying to act casual, "I see." She hoped it didn't seem like she was judging him because she really wasn't-- it just took her by surprise that he was so upfront about it because it had always seemed like such taboo thing to her. With that being said, she like thinking about his sexual relationship with his wife.

Curiosity did linger in her mind-- she didn't know much about the fetishes she inferred he was referring to, and she certainly had lots of questions, but she didn't really want to ask him for any elaboration, at least not right now. She still needed some time to process the information he'd already given her. She reached for her wine and took a big swig, enough to finish off her glass. "I'm alright, I think I'll just stick to wine," she replied, her voice markedly quieter than before.

She felt the need to say something, but couldn't come up with anything at all. She found herself suddenly infatuated with the restaurant's menu, or at least she acted that way, trying to focus on something else. "You said the seafood is good? I think I might do fish," she said, trying to change the subject for both of their sakes.

“It's excellent, have James give you the specials.” He picked up his menu and studied it as if he didn't know it by heart. He noticed that the blush she had before was gone. Maybe she was getting used to his company, but it was something he wanted to explore. “Elle and I go to a little place a few blocks from here. I'd like to take you there after we eat.”

It was a semi-question, but he didn't think she'd refuse. Perhaps he could make himself scarce and see if she blushed for other compliments. It couldn't be just him? Sam thought about it for just a moment, but resolved to think it through later.

A different server dropped off a dozen oysters on the half shell and disappeared. It was a standing order. “Do you enjoy raw oysters? They are excellent here. I have them every time I come.” He took one and let it slide from the shell into his mouth. The salty taste of the ocean filled his palette. After he finished one, he said, “How about you tell me more about you? Maybe what you did for fun before coming to work for me and losing all your free time?”

"Okay," she responded to his proposition, perhaps a little too fast. Eager to prolong their "date," she was smiling once again. Even if it wasn't supposed to, this whole night definitely did feel romantic. Maybe it was just the wine, she thought. She pushed her empty wine glass slightly toward him, silently requesting that he pour her another glass.

"I'm not sure I've ever had one." She took one and inspected it. It felt like luxury to be able to eat oysters and not care about the price-- certainly a feeling that was unfamiliar to her. She slurped it into her mouth, staring down at the desk while she experienced the taste for the first time. "Interesting. I don't mind it."

Her face lit up when he asked about her, though. "Well, I really like playing volleyball. I've played pretty much my whole life. I played in a rec league for a little while, but I had to stop when I started job searching again because of the time commitment. It's a lot of fun," she said, smiling and watching his face, happy to be talking about herself. "And I love travelling. I don't really get to because, well, I don't really have the funds, but I just love going to new places and seeing the landmarks, the lifestyle, the culture. It's really fascinating to me.”

Sam poured her another glass of wine. Since it was just the two of them, she could have as much as she liked. In fact, he hoped she didn't realize there was already another bottle coming since she was having seafood. The thought of her being a little tipsy was intriguing him.

“People tend to either love or hate oysters. It's just one of those foods. I'm not sure what they say about them is true, but at my age, one can hope!” He laughed. “Of course, I love them anyway.” He saw their server was tending to another table, but he would occasionally glance at his others. He and Sam exchanged nods.

“Volleyball? Well, you must be a mid-setter or on the back line. No way you play the net at 5’3”. Not unless you jump like Jordan.” He paused for a moment, but James was still busy. “Nope, Jazz has a couple inches on you, and they wouldn't let her. And, since she couldn't spike the ball in anyone's face, she quit. Now she plays hockey like her old man. I had to make them change the ‘no girls’ on the team rule.”

Their server appeared out of nowhere, as only good servers can do, and he listed the specials. The third item made Sam stop him by holding up his hand. “Do you trust me, Casey? I hope so.” He turned to James, “Two.” He smiled. “This is quite rare, you know. Not just that I'm forgoing my usual steak, but bluefin tuna is a rare treat. It can go for thousands per pound.” He laughed. “The bean counters are going to lose their minds!”

"Thank you." Immediately, she gulped down a substantial portion of the refilled glass. It seemed to make her overjoyed to listen to him talk about volleyball, but she giggled at the notion of her playing the net. She struggled to even picture it. "I play back line. It actually helps to be short-- or at least that's what I tell myself. It doesn't hurt, though." She sipped her wine again, "I was really good in high school. I should've played in college but..." she frowned, "partying was more attractive."

She nodded. Of course she trusted him to order, certainly more than she trusted herself. watched him order for the two of them with enjoyment-- she liked watching him take charge. Her jaw drop at the mention of the price. "And... we're going to eat it?" Her eyes squinted at him like he was crazy.

Obviously, she couldn't act like this once she was going to extravagant dinners for work, and she knew that, but she didn't feel the need to hide her shock from him. She'd never gotten to live this way, so she was excited to try it, but even more that he was buying it for her. More and more, this felt like a date, and a nice one at that.

“Well, we certainly aren't going to go for a swim with it!” He laughed. “You're going to love it.” He thought about her diving around on hardwood in little shorts. Why? He wasn't sure. She was also a party girl, he thought. Interesting. “Did you get scholarship offers? Would you go back if you could?”

He realized he was peppering her with questions. That certainly wasn't like him, because he was a patient man. Luckily for him, James was on his way with the other bottle of wine. When he arrived and presented the bottle to him, he nodded to Casey. “Your turn. You don't want to examine the label unless you're buying a bottle. Just a quick glance for water stains. Look too long and James will get offended.

The server smiled and then defty uncorked the bottle. He presented the cork, and Sam said, “Unless you really know wine or want to be pretentious, wave it off with a nod. Now he'll pour a sample, and you can swirl, sniff, and sip. Or just sip.”

It was very nice teaching her some basics of fine dining. He could tell she was enjoying herself and it made him feel good. He'd never mentored a female, and he had been concerned about it. Elle thought he would do a wonderful job, but he wondered what she'd think when she saw her.

"Of course I'd go back. I got a lot of offers, actually. A few D1. But I was so set on Penn State, so when they didn't give me an offer, that was the nail in the coffin." She shook her head, not feeling especially proud of herself. "I still played intramural because the time commitment was about a tenth as much, but I really should've just used my head." She sighed. "It's alright. I'm here now, and things are going well, so it doesn't really matter," she said, talking to herself as much as to him, if not more.

Although she did like talking about volleyball, she was happy to be interrupted by the server. She tilted her head and listened to Sam's instructions closely, then executed them. Quick glance at the label, wave off the cork, sip the sample. It definitely tasted different than the other wine, but she still liked it. "That's very good," she said with a kind smile toward James. It was a tight smile, different from the wide, uncontrolled smile that she tended to direct at Sam.

Once James had vacated, she finished off the wine still in her glass in one swig. She grinned up at Sam. "I hadn't been planning on drinking too much, but..." The sensible part of her brain was telling her to take it easy and play it smart, but she also wanted to have fun. She was still thinking clearly, but it was starting to get foggier. She was worried she might let something slip or overstep boundaries but relatively confident she could keep it together.

“Excel at what you do, young lady. If that takes higher education, do it. If it doesn't, then skip it.” He had another oyster and motioned to the plate, “Have another. Look at James, there. I don't know his background, but he is a master of his craft. I don't even have to ask to be seated in his section anymore, they just do it.” He slid the oyster in his mouth and savored it.

“Here's a little secret. It's important to know and understand this, because if you are with me it will be important.” He gave her a conspiratorial look and wiggled an eyebrow. “First, the example. Ready? Look around surreptitiously at what people are eating. Go ahead…” He waited and sipped his wine.

“Did you see anyone eating fish? I see scallops, a couple with shrimp and pasta, but no tuna.” He scratched his chin as if we're pondering. “I assure you, it isn't because no one can afford it, most of the people here are much richer than us. Nope, they weren't told about it.” He spoke in a quiet tone.

“Bluefin isn't just expensive, it's uncommon. You won't find it at Acme, or anywhere else. I'm told restaurants bid on it. When it gets here? They let the long time waitstaff portion it out to their customers.” He smiled, “But why me? Well, I did something for James one night. An angry customer grabbed him for whatever reason and was screaming in his face, and I put a stop to it.”

“My world… *our* world runs on favors. You collect them when you can, and use them sparingly. We do the jobs we are tasked to do, but on the side you make a big tote board of who owes what to whom. It helps with the job, yes, but it also has personal benefits.” He paused and smiled waiting for the questions to come.

Casey leaned in toward him while she helps herself to another oyster. She liked the idea of being let in on a secret, even if it was just going to be about their work. She looked around and saw that he was right. No fish. She listened to his words closely, watching the words leave his mouth with intrigue. It took her a few seconds longer to understand than it would have if she were fully sober, but she got it, as indicated by the nod she gave him.

The first question came naturally, near immediately. "So, you can get favors by dealing with unruly customers for James, for example, right? I couldn't break that up though-- look at me." She sounded concerned, but still sported a smile, perhaps just happy to be talking to him. "I know you probably get favors plenty of other ways, but do you think that's gonna... I don't know, limit me? Don't take this the wrong way, but you have an ability to intimidate that I just... don't."

Then, she squinted, and thought harder, which the wine was making increasingly difficult. She had a thought that, were she perfectly sober, likely would've stayed inside, but the two glasses of wine were enough to coax it out of her. "Is this dinner just to gain favors with me?" It could be interpreted as rude, sure, but her curious tone indicated that she likely didn't mean it that way.

“No, dear. This dinner is to teach you how to eat. This is a, ‘I could go to a state affair with enough confidence as to not soil myself’ lesson. I don't need favors from you. I pay you.” He wondered just how she meant favors, but didn't mention it. She might like to party, but a little more wine would be just fine, he thought.

At some point, he'd teach her to do most of the drinking with or after the meal. But if she got a little lubricated he might hear things he wouldn't were she cold sober. “What? You don't go to the gym? If you don't have any self-defense training, we'll get you some pronto. I'm sure where I go has openings in other classes.”

He leaned forward as if they were collaborating in some grand scheme, “But do you really think I engaged in fisticuffs in this fine establishment? It just took a whisper. I told the man if he didn't get his hands off my favorite waiter, I'd have F.X. Giordano cut them off.”

“Now normally, that would be risking a loss. Even though I like the man, that's a big gift. It wasn't a situation that gets paid back. Nice perks here, though. He poured a little of the white wine in his other glass. “To perks! Anyway, there was very little risk that I would have to follow through, but I've known F.X. since high school. You know who he is, right?”

"Fair enough," she said quietly, shrinking in her seat, feeling a bit stupid after her question. She eyed the new bottle of wine, wondering whether she was supposed to pour it for herself, or if he would do it. All she knew is that she needed more. Maybe she should've been treating this like an actual fancy event for work and watched her intake more, but she wanted to have *some* fun.

"Of course I go to the gym," she retorted, a bit defensive. She looked down at herself. She was certainly fit, but that wasn't exactly her concern. "I don't know if I could really pull that off, though. I'm a 5'3 woman, it's not exactly easy for me to intimidate people." She shrugged and shook her head, indicating she had no idea who F.X. Giordano was.

"Well, I guess I could probably flirt for favors better than you could, though. Although, I don't know how good of an idea that is. Seems risky to have tons of rich old guys thinking I'm into them," she said sincerely, but couldn't help but giggle at the thought. "I bet it would work, though. Still, I'm not sure if it's worth it."

She looked so crestfallen when he had told her he was teaching her even though they were out enjoying the evening together. "Casey,” He reached across the small table and covered on of her hands with his. “If we're out enjoying a lovely meal, engaging a client in a boardroom , or digging through a dumpster for an incriminating document, I'll always be trying to teach you something.”

He knew he went to the gym, he even knew which gym. On the upper floors of the firm, no one was hired without a deep background check. “I can tell you use the gym, and I want you to be able to defend yourself, not physically intimidate people. I threatened that guy with real harm from a notorious mobster so he *wouldn't* take a swing at me. We're about nuance.”

Sam saw the food coming and nodded at the approaching server so Casey would notice. As she turned to look, he also refilled her wine glass. “Also, you will literally be meeting clients and targets from all walks of life, not just rich… not just old.” James set the plates before them that looked like delicious works of art. “Bon appetite!”

He took a bite and closed his eyes as the taste of the fish filled his mouth. They both were quiet for awhile and the sounds of the restaurant surrounded them. Then Sam spoke, “For the most part you don't want to flirt, not overtly anyway. Let them come to you, and I'm sure they will, and rebuff playfully. I'd find it hard to believe this isn't already in your toolbox.”

The meal was excellent, and after eating a bit more, he commented, “This… is an outstanding piece of fish, I must say.” He took a small sip of wine. “Now then, you do realize not all men are so easily beguiled by feminine wiles.” He leaned back “But okay, if you think you have the chops for it, show me. I'll be your mark for the evening. You game?”

Casey didn't sit back up at first, her eyes meeting his, flicking down to their hands, then back up at him. A grin emerged on her face. She hoped she wouldn't blush too much, but it was almost inevitable. She slowly moved her hand in a slight movement, just enough to feel his hand rub against hers. Her cheeks reddened. She never wanted him to pull away.

As the fish arrived and she gave it a try, she was in awe. It tasted like fish, but far better than any fish she'd ever had. She didn't say anything because she didn't know what to say, instead deciding to just enjoy the food for a while. It paired nicely with her wine, she found.

His offer made her scrunch her face to think. It put her in a bit of predicament, whether or not he realized it. Her typical strategy flirting was to go easy, and let the other person initiate. She would drop hints, sure, but she would mostly just be receptive and act interested. Due to her physical attractiveness, she found that with most men, that was enough. Overtly flirting would be more direct, but she found that it was too risky, and thus had minimal experience.

The problem is that she'd already been flirting with him, and planned to continue in the same way. By agreeing, she would be giving him information, showing him how she flirts. Then, he'd realize when she was doing it to him, and that she was attracted to him. "You don't believe that I can do it?" she teased, trying to deflect.

“Oh, my dear Casey, I believe you could sweet talk a young co-ed into just about anything.” He looked into her eyes and didn't break contact until he whisper a dawn out sentence, “But… can you do it… under pressure… with a man… like… me.” He gave her a slow sexy wink.

He was expecting her to blush, but Sam wanted to see if she would get tongue tied. He knew she was quick, but he could test her and have a little fun. He knew he shouldn't go too far, because it was work, but he wasn't too concerned. The food had been marvelous. “Shall I call for the dessert cart and a bottle of ice wine, perhaps?”

He had a bit of an adventure, since he knew where they were headed. What he thought might be a pleasant night had turned into something much more fun. There was nothing more fun than a little challenge.

She watched his little display with interest, a playful smirk developing on her face. "I'm not convinced you're not just looking for an excuse to flirt with me," she teased, leaning in toward him, trying to act like her face hadn't gone completely red. She adjusted her blouse, pulling it down slightly so it exposed more of her cleavage. She hoped he would look. "I can't say I blame you."

She finished up her fish. It was exquisite, much better than any fish she'd ever had, or possibly any food she'd ever had. She downed the rest of the wine in her glass, then pushing the glass back toward the bottle.

She used to drink a lot in college, but that was about two years ago at this point, and she only had scarcely since then, and she did not weigh much, so her alcohol tolerance was quite low. She still seemed somewhat sharp, but it was certainly fading. She told herself that she would have one more glass, then she was done. No need to overdo it.

"Dessert sounds good." Her eyes scanned down his body, then back up to his eyes. "I'm only having one more glass of wine, though. I shouldn't get completely trashed.”

Sam motioned to James, when he got there he motioned for the desserts to be brought on the trolley. He also asked for the recommended wine for whichever choice Casey made. “It could be a port, depending on what pairs best. Either way it will be sweet.”

“Just like you, Casey. But I wouldn't dream of flirting with you!” He acted as if he was offended by the notion. “Don't you think that would be unethical? How could I woo such a stunning specimen of volleyball prowess if I were to sink so low? Yes. A conundrum…”

“What are your thoughts? Oh wait, you're supposed to be putting me under your spell, are you not?” He grinned and pointed to the cart that was piled with all manner of pastries, cakes, and confections. “Well, do you see anything that tickles your fancy?”

"Who cares if it's unethical?" She leaned toward him again, placing her soft, small hand on his shoulder, running her finger tips down his arm slowly, sensually. "I can keep a secret," she whispered, her eyes locked onto his.

She was enjoying this. It gave her an excuse to seduce him without the risk that doing so normally carried. She planned to push it, just to see if and at what point he would stop her. If she did it well enough, toed the line perfectly, she thought, maybe he would actually give in. Or, more likely, perhaps she was just being delusional. Regardless, it was fun to pretend. If she never actually got what she wanted so badly, at least she got to simulate it for one night.

She searched the trolley for something of particular interest. Everything looked delicious, but she didn't know exactly what she wanted to have. After much deliberation, she pointed at a ramekin of crème brûlée. "I think I'll have that. I've never tried it before," she said, ignoring his comment, although it had made her smirk.

“Well, in this business, you are certain to meet your fair share of unethical men… and women.” He studied the offerings on the cart, but decided to just have a cup of coffee. “As for keeping secrets, that's part of the job here. You keep everything secret from everyone but me.”

“I'm already keeping *your* secrets, you know. I've read about some of your exploits. Back in my youth, everyone didn't carry video recorders in their pockets.” He hummed a little to make her think back. There wasn't anything too bad in the file they were given, but the report had a few embarrassing incidents.

“You chose a dessert that will surely bring a very sweet wine. I'm going to really enjoy watching you on a sugar buzz! Maybe… just maybe, you'll tell me about some of the stuff in your background check.” She was really fun to tease. Sam realized he was enjoying himself quite a bit.

Elle already knew him. She'd heard his stories and all his details. Perhaps he liked that. Besides, she had no clearance and never wanted one. He could tell his AAs more than his own wife, but it hadn't been this fun. “What are you going to say to my wife, Casey? She's no fool, and you are bound to be together. Do you really think you could pull that off?”

James came to the table with a towel wrapped bottle, an ice bucket and a torch to caramelize her dessert. He showed the label to Sam, “Le sir, Chateau d'Yquem Sauternes du 2009, compliments de la direction pour célébrer votre nouvel ami spécial.” He was about to protest, but decided against it and just smiled. “Oui James, merci, vraiment spécial. Plus doux que le vin et plus chaud que la torche.” The server smiled and nodded.

His comment did seem to concern her somewhat. She thought back through her memory, thinking of her most embarrassing moments, what he could possibly know. There were definitely a few things she wouldn't want him to know that came to mind immediately, but she didn't want to ask about any of them if he didn't really know.

She couldn't stand wondering what he did and didn't know about her past. Hopefully, it was mostly just harmless incidents, and nothing extremely embarrassing. One incident from her first year of college came to mind. She desperately hoped he didn't know about that. "If you tell me the things that you know, I'll tell you all about them," she offered. In her mind, it was worth it to find out what he knew, even if it was going to humiliate her.

"I wouldn't have to tell her anything. She doesn't have to know. I'd just act casual, and she wouldn't suspect a thing." The mere thought of talking to his wife made her both nervous and angry. She knew very little about her, but she didn't feel that she needed to. In Casey's mind, she was more of a roadblock than a human, as much as she knew that was wrong.

Her eyes stayed fixed on Sam while he spoke to James in French. Something about watching him speak it really turned her on. It displayed his intelligence, and the language just sounded sexy, although that could've just been because it was leaving his mouth. She did wonder what he was saying, but assumed it wasn't anything special. She thanked James, then sipped the wine. "That is very sweet. I like it," she said with a nod, then promptly took another sip.

“Well, they do have a great sommelier here, and he does very well on the pairs. The wine should be as sweet or sweeter than the dessert, but not by much.” He watched her sip twice. Oh, Casey, you have no idea how high the alcohol content is in that wine. He took a tiny sip from his glass, then topped his off while refilling hers.

“I think I could sit here and tease you all night. But I won't tease you about your past. Everyone has one. You can assume I know just about everything that was either online or that one thing that got you in trouble with campus security.” He got serious for a moment. “You really don't have to talk about it, but I thought you might like to…”

His coffee had come and it was almost gone, the dessert wine was in a small bottle and was all but gone. He thought about pouring the last drops in her glass, but didn't want to be obvious. He'd make sure he was near her when she stood up. ‘In vino, veritas’ he thought to himself and smiled.

Her dessert was nearly gone. “I see you made yourself a good choice!” He caught her eye again. It was fun to catch her unable to talk after a nice bite, “Yes, it was either very good or they skimped on you main dish. Perhaps I should complain.” He looked around as if he were going to call someone over.

Instead, he pulled out his money clip, peeled ten $100 bills from the folded money, and slid them under a used plate. “It's such a nice night. We're only a few blocks from our destination. Would you like to stretch your legs and walk off a little of this fine repast?”

Casey repeatedly took swigs of her wine while she dug into her dessert. She'd never tried it before, and it was dissimilar to anything she'd ever tasted before. Very sweet and creamy, and she loved the crunchy layer on top. She ate it quickly, enjoying each bite. By the time she was finished, her wine was empty, too. It definitely did pair well with her dessert, and she enjoyed the combination.

"Oh no." Her jaw dropped and she had to look away from him at the mention of the campus security. She immediately knew that he knew about it, which made her feel so embarrassed that she couldn't even look at him. She covered her face, feeling her skin burn as it quickly flushed bright red. She giggled to herself for a while, trying to deal with the discomfiture that simply refused to go away. "Listen, I lost a bet, okay? I swear I wouldn't just do that! I'm not just some... some..." she searched for a word. One was in mind, but she certainly wouldn't have said it if she weren't inebriated, "whore."

She didn't dignify his little joke, knowing that he wouldn't complain. She just gave him a look, then started laughing again. She knew she got giggly when she got drunk, which made her worry that maybe she drank too much.

She nodded when he offered to leave, though she was a bit nervous about trying to walk. It would be a good excuse to get touchy with him, at least. She waited until he already stood and was near to attempt to stand. As she feared, her legs were wobbly, and she had to lean on him for support. She certainly didn't mind, though. She wrapped her arms around him and leaned against his chest. "You're gonna have to help me walk," she said, giggling at herself.

“Yes, I was prepared for this. I see you don't have a wrap and no one is hustling over, so you didn't check anything. I believe we can just take our leave.” James was by the door. “Monsieur Mills, est-ce pour le compte de l'entreprise ou est-ce un repas personnel?” He asked. “L'entreprise, merci, c'est mon nouveau AA, pas un ami spécial. Je plaisantais.”

One door was held by the maitre d, and with Casey firmly on his arm, he pushed through the outer door and turned her to the right and started off at a slow pace. “You don't speak any French, do you?” She had a bit of a wobble, but it wasn't bad. “We were talking about you.” The evening was clear and just a hint of a chill.

They were in a busy part of Center City, but they would be making a few turns that would lead the behind all the large storefront buildings into the alleys for service. “Uh oh. Cobblestones are wobble stones! You best hold on tight!”

They were moving at a slow pace, and he said, “Okay, you tell me all the sordid details of your college adventure, and I'll… I don't know… answer any burning question you have about me so far. Or maybe tell you what James said. Does that sound like a deal?” It was time to see if the wine had worked its magic.

She clutched onto him, one arm wrapped around his back. She wasn't completely drunk to where she couldn't walk at all, but she probably would've fallen without his help. Occasionally, she would randomly burst out into giggles for no apparent reason. It made her feel warm inside to lean her body against him, to feel her arm on him and his wrapped around her. This really was like some kind of dream.

She seemed to want to know what he said in French, but she didn't beg him. She wondered how foolish she looked in her wobbly struggle to walk. The thought made her giggle more. She thought she'd watched her drinking well enough, but apparently not.

"Okay, fine," she said, speaking slower than normal, as if the words were ever so slightly more difficult to produce. "I was at this frat party, right? And we were playing beer pong, you know, and I had an exam the next morning. And I'd already had like two or three beers, and I said I didn't want to get hungover but I wanted to play, so they decided I could play, but I had to make a bet instead." She paused to giggle, knowing what was going to happen in the story.

"By the way, the frat was like, right outside of campus. And someone said that I should have to streak all the way to my dorm and back. I thought I was good at beer pong, so I said sure." She laughed hysterically in a cute little giggle. She was blushing badly, the story obviously humiliating to be telling her boss, but she trudged on. "And then I lost. So, I got naked, and I ran. I thought I could get away with it because it was like, pretty late, but I got called to talk to campus security the next day." She leaned harder against him, squeezing him with her arm. "Now tell me what James said.”

He chuckled. “Now that wasn't so bad, was it? You don't even seem to be blushing.” Her story was amusing. It was almost cute, but now he had a vision of her running naked. “Well, the wine was brought on the house. James said it was to welcome my new special friend. He thought we were lovers.”

There was a door coming up on their left that was down a few steps. There was a light over the big door with a green metal shade. “So on the was out, he asked if I should pay the bill on the company account or my personal one. So I let him in the joke and let him know who you are. You didn't think *I* was going to pay for that meal, did you?”

“Okay, we're going to navigate a few stairs here. Then, when we go inside, some people are going to probably hug you. It would be nice if you didn't slap anyone.” He had her grab the handrail and held her tightly from the other side. The steps were wide enough for then to walk abreast. San opened the door and pushed it in. The noise that was heard through the door suddenly ceased.

He walked in and said, “Hey assholes! Meet Casey, my new AA who's half in the bag!” The basement exploded with laughter and people jabbering. “Hey hey! Easy on the hugs! Austin and Dustin, no hugs at all, you perverts! Next round is on me… now clear a hole!”

“C'mon, let's get you on a barstool anyway. He guided her to the end of the bar, which was magnificent. It had obviously been around for a long time, and had brass rails, ornate carved pieces, and antique mirrors. “Steve, get me my usual. Water for her.” He rubbed her on the back. “Best you take a little break. You have work in the morning.”

"What do you mean it wasn't bad? That was so humiliating! People made fun of me constantly until I graduated," she said. She was blushing a lot, which she tried to show him by looking over at him.

"You know, maybe James has a point," she said, again leaning harder against him. She'd forgotten about the whole flirting game, and was being completely sincere, but it was a good excuse if he tried to push back. She hoped, though, that he would just let it keep going. Maybe, she thought, he wanted this too.

She giggled when he introduced her, and gave hugs to everyone who approached her. She tried to stay still, wary of losing her footing without Sam's help. She wasn't sure where she was expecting to go after the fancy dinner, but she definitely wasn't expecting a bar. Should he have bought her a drink, she would've had it, but she was thankful that he ordered her water.

"Don't drink too much, Sam, you still have to help me walk," she suggested while she stumbled over to the bar. Once she was seated, she looked around the bar. It was nice, she liked it. Now that he wasn't helping her walk, she didn't have a good excuse, but she didn't want to stop touching him. She placed a hand on his shoulder, then ran it along his arm.

“Oh, don't fret, this is a safe place. You don't even have to walk anywhere if you dont want.” He whispered to her, “You could streak home though!” He chuckled just a little.

He stood for a moment and removed his jacket. Instead of hanging it somewhere, Sam walked over to an old wooden door that had been meticulously refinished. It was locked, and he open it with a key. He stepped inside and left the jacket. He pulled the door shut and rolled up his shirt sleeves. If she wanted to touch him, she'd have to go for bare skin, even though he had pretended not to notice.

He sat back down. “Isn't this bar just marvelous? It used to be in a building around the corner. This was a little speakeasy in the thirties, but it never had anything like this.” He looked around at all the wood that had been put in the place, some very expensive wood. “The tin ceiling came from another demo project in South Philly.”

It was an odd move for him. He'd never taken anyone from work here before, even former assistants. Was he trying to show off? The greeting she received was because the place was friends and family. It wasn't a place that had a website or Yelp reviews. Elle had only been here a few times, and that was mostly when he was working on the place. The women who came here were regulars, not guests.

There was a loud commotion that came from behind a closed door. There was some laughter and chit chat about who'd lost a big hand. “There's a card room in the back.” Someone went to the door and yelled that Sam was entertaining, and to shut up. “So Casey, I promised you I'd answer another question. I'm all ears!”

She gave him a glare, trying to act like she was mad about his joke, but she inevitably broke into laughter. "You wish," she teased, still rubbing his arm. Her body language was very telling. She was sitting almost fully sideways, facing him, and leaning toward him. Her eyes stayed locked on him, watching his every movement, almost admiring him. Everything about him was so attractive to her.

She took a glance at the bar, but didn't let it distract her eyes for long, as they quickly returned to him. "It's very nice. I've never seen something like this in person before." She hoped it wasn't to obvious that she was into him based on the way she looked at him, but she couldn't get herself to really care. She almost wanted him to notice.

She squinted, trying to think of a good question. She didn't want to be too overt, but at the same time she had her curiosities about him. She couldn't think of anything too creative, but decided there was no need to overcomplicate it. "Since you know mine, I think that it's only fair that I know yours. Tell me your, like, craziest or most embarrassing thing you've ever done," she said, already starting to giggle while idly playing with his arm, enjoying the feeling of the warmth of his skin on her fingers.

“Well, since you left me a choice, I'll go with craziest. But this will definitely take a drink.” He nodded to the bartender who refilled his glass. “Don't you worry, I know how to hold my liquor.” He chuckled, “That reminds me, technically this place doesn't have a name. Don't let these jokers tell you it does, and especially why…”

He took a long drink of Irish whiskey, and thought for a moment. “Okay, craziest. Well, even though I also had some wild experiences in college, this is work. It was early in my career. Not the cover, I wasn't even with the firm yet. We do work there, but if it hasn't become apparent, this is the real job.”

“So, back around 2000, I was tasked with meeting and seducing a woman. Who and why isn't really important, the important part was where she was and the people watching her. This was in Dubai, and she was daughter and heir to a very wealthy and influential man, who had one foot in the grave. Basically, I needed to make sure some items he had would end up in my hands.”

“The problem was she was never alone unless she was on his enormous yacht. Any other time, she was surrounded by bodyguards or they would close the whole damn store. So, it had to be an ‘accident’ of sorts. They would never let a boat pull up, and a diver would be like an intruder. So…”

“...I based jumped off the Burj Al Arab hotel. I pretended I had no idea what I was doing, which wasn't far from the truth, and aimed at the yacht.” Sam called for another refill after he downed his drink. “I smacked that boat hard, knocked myself out, and woke up in one of the cabins.”

He intended to sip his drink and make it his last. “So, that was crazy, but mission accomplished!” The bartender came over and asked if he was driving. “Steve, when have I ever driven here? You know me better.” Steve laughed at him. “I couldn't give a shit about you, boss. But I would never let harm come to this lovely lady.”

Sam waved him off after giving him the middle finger. “Nevermind him, he's been hitting on my girls since high school.” He sighed, “But he's someone you want beside you in a scrap for sure. That was back when we did all kinds of crazy shit. Okay, this is supposed to be a learning night. Look around and read the people. Read the room. What do you see?”

She sipped at her water while she listened to his story. She didn't seem to attack it with quite the vigor that she had with the wine at the restaurant, though, only taking very occasional, quaint sips.

As his story progressed, she did look impressed, but she struggled to hide her disappointment. It was not necessarily at him, but at the story. All of her stories were embarrassing to tell, and his was more awe-inspiring than anything. She was undoubtedly hoping for ammunition to fire back whenever he teased her for her streaking incident, and she knew he probably realized that, and gave her absolutely nothing to work with.

"That's definitely crazy," she said, still running her hand along her arm, "and so, so brave." Her movements were trending closer and closer to his hand, and she did consider going for it several times, but decided it too risky. "You're a very interesting person." She was getting more comfortable being outright with him, although it could've just been the wine.

Casey giggled at the bartender's joke, finding it amusing. She noticed that Sam's wording included her in 'his girls.' She thought about mentioning it, maybe pressing him on the subject, but that would risk him outright rejecting her, and she didn't think that was worth it, even with the alcohol in her system. Plus, he changed the subject quickly.

"Just so you know, I wouldn't drink so much at a work thing," she clarified, covering her bases in case her reads were off. She giggled, then started to look around. "Everyone's comfortable with each other. It seems like everyone knows each other. A few people look a little upset though. Maybe they wish they had a twenty-one year old half-drunken AA." She squeezed his arm, then started to giggle again.

If there had been any doubt she had been flirting with him, it had vanished. It was pleasant, it was harmless, and it was likely alcohol induced. That didn't mean it didn't give a nice warm feeling and perhaps even a little more. “Why Ms. James, if I didn't know better, I'd think you we sweet on me…” He said in a mock drawl. “Hey Stevie, bring my hot li'l date a drink. If she gets sober, she might run off!” He laughed.

“She had an very sweet wine last, so…” He told the lanky bartender, who completely ignored him, and said to Casey, “You really should should run. He's the biggest bullshiter I've ever known.” Sam responded, “Well, someone had to be…”

“But if you're going to stay and would like a beverage, it is on the house.” Sam started laughing and as Steve stepped back, he laughed as well. “You are right, you are. We all know each other. Half of us grew up together and the other half, well, they ended up here somehow. Remember I told you about F.X.? He accidentally started this.”

“We must have been what, Steve, 22 or 23?” The bartender nodded. “Well, the old man puts our baby Capone in charge of his own construction company, which is a bigger deal than it sounds. So we all come to celebrate with him and we see this bar.” He paused and Steve interjected, “But it was torched.”

“Well, part of it. That… is how I got into woodworking. From the left side of that,” He pointed at the last of three mirrors, “To the end. That's all my work. They were going to trash it, but I convinced them to drag it down here. That's how it began, when this was a numbers house.” He looked around the room and sighed. Steve snorted.

"What if I am?" she asked. She was still just flirting with him, but she struggled to hide her nerves asking such a question. It almost gave her chills to hear him call her hot, but she tried to play it off by laughing along.

"I'll have another drink, sure." She turned to Steve. "Can I have a cocktail? I didn't really care what kind, surprise me." She looked back over at Sam, admiring him as she did every time. She caressed his arm still, her warm touch running back and forth on his bare forearm.

While she listened to his story, her eyes stayed on his, but her hand moved from his arm to his hand, her fingers running along its backside. She noticed how large his hands felt in comparison to hers. She liked it. Reminders of how small she was compared to him had come to excite her. She didn't bother to try to understand why, it was just some kind of instinct.

"That's really cool," she said softly once he had finished his story. She glanced briefly over where he'd been pointing. "You did a great job." Her hand squeezed his, and she met his eyes, smiling fully.

He enjoyed her attention. His wife was very understanding when it came to his job. If the situation required it, he could flirt and such. Those are interactions he always talked to her about. When he had “tougher” assignments, they were kept to himself. She knew the job when she married him. This, however, was quite different.

Sam heard the whipped cream can shake. “Oh, dear lord. I wish you hadn't done that.” He tilted his head forward and rubbed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. “Well, dear, I hope you're into blowjobs.” He purposely said it in a manner to elicit a response. Then he hummed a bit and chuckled.

“Wait… what if you're what?! Sweet on me? Oh my. If that's the case, what would you do about it?” He cocked an eyebrow. “Hmmm?” He was going to press her, but the drink arrived and Steve set it in front of her with a smirk. It was Kahlua, Bailey's, and Amaretto in a shot glass topped with whipped cream. Several of the guys had moved closer to watch. “Alright Casey, if you don't know the rules, put you hands behind your back and down that shot!”

Casey furrowed her eyebrows at him, very confused and concerned by his wording. "Wh-What?!" She knew it must've been some kind of joke because he didn't seem like the type of person to say that out of the blue, but she still didn't understand what he meant immediately. He must've been talking about her drink, she finally realized after thinking about it for around thirty seconds. Clearly, she was already impaired, but she was about to have more.

She didn't know what to make of his response to her question. He didn't give much of an indication one way or another, but he didn't totally shut her down, so that was a positive. "I-- um... I..." she said, flailing, panicking as she searched for some kind of response. What would she do about it? That was the great question that she'd been grappling with for days.

She was more than thankful when Steve came over with her drink, saving her from being pressed on the subject. She'd never done a no-hands shot, and it had been a long time since she'd even done a shot at all, but she was sure she could handle it. She turned back with a smile to acknowledge the crowd of people that had formed around her, then back toward the bar.

She held her hands behind her back and leaned forward with her mouth open, picked the glass up with her mouth and leaned back. She seemed to down it with relative ease, then taking the shot glass and setting it firmly on the bar. She turned to Sam, wanting to see his reaction more than anything else.

There was a murmur of approval, a little laughter, and at least one person clapped. Someone patted Sam's should and told him he was a lucky man. “Well, that was impressive. Would you like another… shot?” He was close to laughing himself. “I mean, you took that like a champ!”

“These guys don't see too many women in here, so you'll have to excuse them. If you see one, chances are she's been around us for awhile and has either never fancied one of use, or got over it a long time ago.” He took a drink and continued, “Girlfriends and wives, especially, are only here by an invitation. So, it's probably the only place I can really be myself.”

“So don't get used to it. What you saw in the office will be the norm, but when we're alone, maybe more like dinner. But this place, probably not again. The boys here know you can bring a new girl here to meet everyone, but it's pretty exclusive. Most of us own a piece of it, and that's how we like it.”

He'd trusted several of the men here with his life, and had been entrusted with theirs. People who were smart and street smart both could certainly be formidable. In a different, less booze infused, environment he might tell her he had two steady girls in high school that he would alternate them at different events. Not a soul in this room that met them both breathed a word.

That story might give her ideas that she might not already have. “So, you we're about to say something before that piece of performance art?” He still wasn't done with her. Though he hadn't the tolerance he once had, it wasn't like he was a lightweight. “Something with “um” in it?

"I don't think I should do anymore." She tried to act like it wasn't a big deal, but she couldn't help but grin. It was fun to see him seem so impressed. "How drunk do you want me to get?" she teased, now placing her hand back on his shoulder.

"Okay." She looked mildly disappointed when he said he probably won't bring her back here. Ultimately, she didn't really mind; as long as she would still be seeing him, she didn't really mind if it wasn't at the bar. She didn't really understand why she'd been brought in the first place. It made her think that maybe he wasn't interested in her at all. If he was even considering it, wouldn't he want to keep her a secret? She decided to put more thought to it once she was sober.

She sighed. So he wasn't just going to let go of what she'd said. "Oh-- what? I don't know what you're talking about." She laughed, though it was distinctly different from her typical cute, drunken giggle. It was a nervous laugh. She glanced around, trying to avoid his eyeline, and her eyes eventually fixed on the door. "What time is it?" she asked, trying to change the subject, and maybe get out of answering altogether. Her motives were much less subtle than when she was sober.

“Well, I don't know the time, but it's a bad time for making decisions. You know precisely what I'm talking about, too.” He took a sip of whiskey and turned towards her. “Here, turn towards me so I can tell you a little something in private.”

He leaned in toward her. “Now, here's the thing. It's been abundantly clear through your words and actions you want my…attention. Here's the thing, though, James knew it. The tables close to us knew it. Everyone in this bar knows it.”

“Don't get me wrong, Casey. I enjoy your attention, and I really dig you flirting with me. I could take you in my room that's right behind you and we could have the time of our lives. No one here? Not a single one would ever breathe a word to anyone. But what will it be like tomorrow?”

“That's why it's a bad time to make a decision. But, if it helps, I can do this.” He slipped his left hand behind her head sliding his fingers loosely into her hair as he pulled her forward. While he took the kiss from her, he slid his right hand to the small of her back. Sam tasted the sweetness of drink as he explored her mouth, while he pulled her body tight to his. Her breasts pressed into his chest and he held both her and the kiss.

He pulled back his lips from hers and loosened the hold on her body. He looked directly into her eyes. “Now, you can think about that when you talk to my wife at some event. If she reads you like I do, it would end my marriage. If you can actually hold it together…” He gave a slight smile.

The room, which had gone silent, came to life again with jeers and cheers and people exchanging money. “These assholes bet on us kissing.”

As he spoke, it was clear she wanted to respond, but she seemed lost for words, flustered. She didn't know whether she should maintain denial of interest in him, or concede and argue that she could hold it together, that it wouldn't be a mistake for him to give in. Before she could decide, let alone find the words to say, he surprised her yet again.

She didn't hesitate. Her arms quickly wrapped around him, rubbing his back while she reciprocated his kiss with passion. She hummed into his mouth in enjoyment while she slid her tongue against his, into his mouth to do some exploring of its own. She cherished every last moment of the kiss, even leaning forward as he pulled away to keep it going for as long as possible.

Her arms stayed wrapped around him while her face retreated. She looked up at him, her mouth agape, eyes wide with excitement. She was utterly shocked, but equally ecstatic. She couldn't believe that it had actually happened.

"She won't know a goddamn thing," she said with a certain smoothness to her voice, pulling herself tighter against him, intentionally pressing her breasts against him, just assuming he would like it. She seemed to completely ignore the others in the room, her eyes staying fixed on his. In her mind, they were alone. All that mattered was him and her.

He ran his right hand up and down her body slowly, from the top of the curve of her ass to the side of her breast and back. He tightened his grip on her hair, “Don't ever… ever underestimate my wife.” He put both hands on her waist, but left her sitting on his leg. He wondered if she felt that stiffness under his trousers.

As far as Sam was concerned, she could snuggle into him all she wanted. He loved it, and no one cared. His worry wasn't about this place, or even this night. If Casey wilted under the high powered spotlight his wife was bound to shine on her, it wasn't a problem. If she confessed to a passionate kiss, Elle would laugh.

“You've probably never heard of her, and even if you did, she practices under her maiden name. But Elle is an attorney. The good ones read people pretty well, but moreover, they train to find the most minor discrepancies in what they here.” He sighed, “But she is also the jury profiler for her firm. Even I don't know what all that entails.”

He wasn't the least bit sure she wouldn't know a goddamn thing, she'd know something. The key was giving something, just not *the* thing. The other question in his mind was it worth it. Casey was absolutely stunning. Had she been anyone other than someone with whom he'd be closely, it wouldn't be a question. He was not above having affairs despite his love for his family.

“Remember. I went you to think this through completely for awhile. If something were to get out, we could both be out of job. But frankly, probably just you. This is a big opportunity for you. Am I worth that risk? Either way, if you want a real big girl affair it wouldn't be like this. It would be clandestine and extreme discreet. Enjoy tonight, but then in the morning… think.”

She nodded, but said nothing while listening to him. Maybe in the morning she would be worried about his wife, but in the moment she couldn't bring herself to care. She couldn't help but laugh lightly when he asked if he was worth it. Of course he was. Her judgement may have been clouded in the moment, but she would have easily traded in her job for an affair with him. Obviously, she would prefer to have both.

"Okay, I'll think about it," she said while she rubbed her hands in circles on his back. She leaned forward, resting her head on his shoulder. She realized it must have been getting late, but she didn't want to leave. It meant they would have to part ways, that she wouldn't get to sit on his lap anymore, enjoying the warm comfort of his hands on her body, at least for now. She didn't want to be the one to end it.

"I really like you," she mumbled into his ear, seemingly out of no where. She didn't really have a reason for saying it, she just felt the need to express her feelings, as if it weren't abundantly clear he already knew. "I wish we could just... do what we both want to." Part of the reason why she found him so interesting, so alluring, was how calculated he was. Now, she wished he wasn't.

“Well, I like you as well.” He gave her a smile, “If we could just do whatever we wanted, we'd already be doing it.” He began sliding his hands closer and closer to her more intimate areas. It was fun to tease her. “Oh, I can tell you've been to the gym now. Do you enjoy my hands?”

He knew he'd be thinking about this later. How had he ended up here after such a short time? It could be the forbidden fruit, but he thought not. He just found her alluring, and would have in any situation. That's the conclusion he found most plausible.

He reluctantly took one hand off her body and motioned Steve over. “Now, I'm going to have Steve tell the driver to pull the car around. I think it's best for us to call it a night. But there is some good news. I'm going to let you kiss me again.”

"I love it," she said quietly. The feeling of his hands on her body, traveling lower and lower, feeling her up, thrilled her. She resented her skirt for separating his hands from her bare ass. He seemed so interested in her, it made her wonder if she might be able to get him to give in. "Do you enjoy my body?" She knew the answer, but felt the need to tease him back.

She knew she was playing with fire, but she didn't care. If he was willing to sleep with her now, she would do it in a heartbeat, regardless of the potential consequences. Although she recognized it was dangerous, she couldn't help but want him more than anything. She knew he wanted to wait, but she wasn't sure she could.

A frown developed on her face when he mentioned leaving, but she knew it was best. Her expression quickly faded into one of excitement, though, at the mention of the kiss. "Right now?" she asked, licking her lips. She was already leaning in, ready to taste his mouth once again.

“Mmm hm…” His affirmation was too late, she didn't hesitate even a bit before putting her lips on his. This time, he was going to make her break it. She let her explore him this time. There was serious passion behind her kiss, and she was even a bit aggressive. He bit her lip gently. Even then she continued for a good while.

Sam was all smiles when she pulled away. “Well, that was quite a kiss. I enjoy your lips and your mouth. To answer your question, yes, I do like your body. In fact, it would feel wonderful squirming under me, and look great riding atop me. I think it would be a challenge to wear you out so you couldn't move…”

“But that, is a topic for another day.” He finally lifted her of his lap and stood her on the floor. “Now come along. I'll walk you out to the car.” He took her hand and led her across the bar to the door, opened it, and made sure she navigated the stairs.

“Well, I hope you had as nice an evening as I did. I'm hoping to do it again. Now don't be late to work in the morning! I can be a real hard boss.” He gave her a quick peck on the cheek and watched her slide into the backseat. He closed the door and headed back to the bar where he knew questions were waiting.

She used the kiss as a medium to communicate just how intense her desire for him was. She held him tight once again, one hand staying on his back while other went to the back of his neck, trying to make sure he wouldn't pull away. She kissed him with passion, her tongue once again dancing around his, into his mouth. She let out a soft, pleasured noise at the feeling of his teeth on her lip. As much as she wanted the moment last forever, she finally broke away after a long, fiery kiss.

Just his words were enough to make her squirm slightly. The thought of being with him sexually was certainly something she'd thought about, but right now, sitting on his lap, it made her feel like fainting. "What I wouldn't give for that," she mumbled, her face still inches from his, with a smile of pure lust. "I'm not sure you could wear me out, though." She thought he probably could, but she wanted to give him something to prove if and when they finally slept together, thinking it would make him go even harder.

She took his hand at first, but ended up leaning against him again. Her legs were still wobbly, maybe worse than earlier. She managed, though, finding her way to the car, thanks to his help. "I had a great night, thanks Sam!" she grinned fully, entering the car. "Why would I be late when I have the sexiest boss on Earth?" she teased as the door closed. She blew a kiss at him through the window before he turned around, then the driver pulled away.

Once she'd struggled her way up the stairs of her complex and into her home, she stripped off her clothes and laid in her bed, where she fell asleep within a single minute. Her dreams were all about Sam-- just the way she wanted it.

The little bar actually wasn't so little, it was just broken up into several rooms. The main room wasn't crowded, not compared to a weekend. He told a few who were between him and his room who Casey was, but that they were not having an affair.

“Yet,” he thought to himself as he opened and entered the room. Once the door closed, the room was surprising quiet. The basement level of the old building had thick brick walls that were a challenge for new plumbing. But he had a full bathroom with all the best features, along with a comfy bed and plenty of clothes. It was another private little space. He liked them.

Although it wasn't necessary, he texted Elle to let her know he was staying in Center City. The next text was more important, and it was to let Jazz know he'd be at her game the next day. It was at Penn, who rented ice time, but at odd hours like the middle of the day. After he sent the long winded text, he got back the perfect teenage response. Just ‘K’. At least she took the time to capitalize it.

He stripped to his skivvies and got under the sheet. His head barely hit the pillow before he went to sleep. However, as his mind was wont to do, it tossed out an interesting idea. He was smiling before he was snoring.

His alarm woke him, he got up but decided to skip the shower and dress in sweats. He put the suit from the day before on a hanger, and would put it on a rack near the door to be dry cleaned. He jogged to work, hit the weights for a bit, then showered and dressed for work. He was upstairs in his office, and as usual, the first to arrive.

Casey woke up a complete mess. She was laid naked in her bed, her makeup still on from the night before, with a brutal headache. It took her ten minutes of laying in bed, slowly phasing back into reality, to finally remember who she was, and that the night before was real. The realization made her laugh to her self, and was enough motivation to for her to get up.

She took a hot shower, got dressed, redid her makeup, took a few aspirin, then set out for work. She didn't normally drink coffee, but she felt she would need it this morning, so she made an extra stop on her commute. Still, she arrived about ten minutes early, certainly not by mistake.

The walk had given her time to reflect, though. She wasn't doing too much critical thinking the night before, but she was pleased with where that had gotten her. She thought over his mentions of his wife again, knowing she would have to see her at the event over the weekend. Those words that hadn't bothered her the night before were now making her tense. If his wife was as cunning as he said, she might be rightfully suspicious, and the affair she's dreamed of could never come to fruition.

When she arrived, she made a beeline for Sam's office. As expected, he was already there. "Why, hello sir. I hope you enjoyed your two days away," she said, playing dumb, her grin indicating she was teasing him. When she unzipped and removed her coat, it became obvious she'd dressed with him in mind. She wore a black skirt that went to the middle of her thighs-- significantly shorter than those she'd worn before-- and a pink dress shirt with the top three buttons were undone, leaving the shirt open enough to show her cleavage. Her eyes followed his closely, hoping he would peek.

Sam has seen her coming in and walking towards his office. He didn't even look up from his work. “Go home.” He paused just a beat. “Right now. Before anyone sees you. This is where we work, not my bar. People will talk, and after last night, I would assume you wouldn't want that.”

He finally looked up at her, then down at her chest. “Those are very lovely. I know, my hands were all around them last night. Decide if you want people to get a good look here at work, or save it for me for later.” He kept his tone low and professional.

She had likely dressed to get his attention, but it probably wasn't what she had imagined. “In fact, wear slacks, comfortable shoes, and a sweater. Either that or bring a hoodie.” He took another long gaze down her shirt. It would be a nice view at the office, no doubt. “Now go! Before everyone gets here.”

She looked like she might cry. She wasn't going to, but it distressed her to hear him so stern after the night they'd had together. She was expecting a completely different reaction. Many ideas of what to say ran through her head. She could try to convince him not to make her go, apologize, or maybe just keep trying to flirt. In the moment, though, she was frozen. No words would leave her mouth.

She buttoned up her shirt and turned around without a word, almost in shock. Her coat was zipped back up as she went down the elevator, then out of the building, speedwalking back toward her apartment.

She wanted to be upset at him, but she couldn't find a way to blame him-- he was making the smart decision, ultimately. There was no point in creating suspicion at work when they already had a mutual understanding of their interest. She just had an urge to flirt with him, and, clearly, she'd listened to it too much.

She returned to her apartment in record time, and quickly shed her slutty office outfit. She only had two pairs of pants suited for office work because she almost always wore skirts. She put on her navy slacks and an oversized beige sweater, and switched to her tennis shoes. She didn't question his authority, just doing exactly as he'd told her.

After just under thirty minutes, she returned, and stepped into his office to show him her new outfit. She stood in the door, a nervous look on her face, much different from the eager, flirtatious one she'd had before. She wasn't sure if he wanted to talk to her any further.

“Better. Come in and grab a seat.” He found a file on his desk. There were a few documents in it and he handed her the whole file. “Boring shit. But this is the challenge. Every task in here can be handled by someone out there.” He pointed out at the office. “You need to figure out who is good at what, and assign them accordingly.”

“This is my floor and you are my AA, so even though most outrank you on the organizational chart, they do not in practice. So, unless someone is rude or abusive, don't call me.” He almost cracked a smile, but suppressed it. “So, go forth and conquer! Impose your will! Kick ass, even. Remember, you work for the badass.”

“Oh, by the way. You have an hour, then we have something to do…”

She took her seat across from him, taking the file and inspecting the documents within it. It did look boring, but that was the job that she actually signed up for. She nodded along to his instructions, though she was markedly more tense compared to earlier, and certainly last night. Whether he'd intended it or not, he'd shaken her up. She was aware that much was probably obvious to him, but she didn't feel the need to try to hide it.

"Okay," she muttered, starting to stand and walk toward the door, file in hand. His words made her stop in the doorway, and turn back toward him. Her before-sullen eyes now had a glimmer of curiosity.

"Something to do? And that is...?”

He looked up and hooked a “come here” finger at her. “Close the door behind you.” He frosted the windows. “I know you've heard ‘curiosity killed the cat’, but did you know the second part to that is ‘satisfaction brought him back.’ Now that sounds fine and dandy until you realize a cat only has nine lives.”

He let that sink in for a moment, then continued, “In other words, be careful to ask for details when you actually need them. I'll give you this one as a freebie. Even though you came in dressed for an Attention Convention this morning, you still have a chance. But you best learn discretion in a quick minute.”

“Now, Curious Casey, to answer you, we're going to a hockey game at the Penn Rink.” If she had been paying attention, she'd grasp the importance. If not, they would have a longer chat about it in the car. “Now, you have work to do! Be back her at 9:30.” He cleared the windows.

She felt some shame after his lesson about curiosity. It felt like she couldn't do anything right this morning, especially after how well things had gone the night before. While noting his wisdom, she tried not to dwell on it too much.

She looked confused for a brief moment as to why they were going to a hockey game, but then she remembered what he'd said about his daughter. But why would he be taking her to his daughter's hockey game? She didn't try to make any sense of it; it meant she would get to spend more time with him, and that was enough to satisfy her.

Once he instructed her to do so, she headed into the office, found her desk, and got to work. She didn't yet know who was skilled in what areas in the office, but after searching around on her computer and asking around, she decided on how she would allocate the work, satisfied that she'd done a good job. This kind of work came easy to her. Even if she wasn't, she was excited to check in later and learn from any mistakes she'd made for the future.

By the time she finished up it was 9:25. Not wanting to be too eager after her earlier incidents, she spent the five minutes doing housekeeping, organizing her spreadsheets the way she liked and reorganizing her desk. She stepped back in his doorway just as the clock struck 9:30. She was stifling an excited smile. "Ready?”

Sam was pulling on a red, white, and blue varsity jacket with a logo that said *Patriots* on the back. He turned and looked at her and the sweater again, “I think you should be warm enough, but it doesn't heat up the same as a big game.”

He nodded towards the door and Sam walked briskly to the elevator. When the door opened with a ding, they entered by themselves. He gave her a ‘don't even think about it’ look as they descended. The lobby was large and marbled, with the firm name over a reception area. They made there way to the main doors where a town car waited outside by the curb.

Once inside the car, with the smoked divider window on the way up, there was complete privacy. Sam leaned a bit, took Casey by the neck and kissed her passionately and with just enough force to push her back and sideways on the bench seat. While he explored the sweetness of her mouth, his hand found its way under her sweater, and with no hesitation covered her bra covered breast. He left her mouth to kiss down the side of her neck.

Then quickly he removed himself from touching her and leaned back in his seat, leaving her a bit disheveled. “So, Ms. James, tell me the difference between the back of this vehicle and the office we just left.”

She stood on the opposite side of the elevator from him. The thought did run through her mind of trying something, but she thought better of it after seeing his expression and considering her earlier incident. She seemed hesitant to even make eye contact.

The kiss took her by complete surprise. It all happened so quick and so suddenly that her hands stayed at her sides, and she just opened her mouth to accept it, letting out a soft hum of enjoyment. She was shocked, but sported an uncontrolled smile. She loved the treatment that he gave her, and even more the reassurance that it hadn't just been the alcohol.

She pulled her sweater back down, and fixed her hair, settling back into her seat. "Well, other people work in the office. And they can see things, and develop suspicions. And there's no one else in here to see," she said, avoiding eye contact now, feeling like she was being scolded. Her smile had evaporated. "Look, about the outfit-- I just wanted to show off to you and get you excited. I shouldn't have done it at the office. I'm sorry. It won't happen again.”

“Anywhere there is any chance, you do not do it. Do not dress like that, do not flint, do not give any indication you want anything to do with me sexually.” He took a couple breaths. “Even in this completely private car, you have to think what you'll look like when you exit back into the public eye.”

He let the information soak in, “So, now we're going to my daughter's game. How will you act? Yes, she's a self-absorbed teen who will have her nose in her phone. No, she doesn't have the same ability to assess situations, but she's no fool.”

Sam knew they'dl be sitting right behind the bench. Jazz would see them every time she came off the ice. It wasn't really a social situation, and his reason for bringing her would be to answer her questions while he watched the game. But this was really a trial run for Casey. She needed to show she could pull it off.

“She tells her mother everything, and doesn't tell me shit, so Elle will hear all about you tonight.” They were getting close to the West Philly ice rink. “Yeah, I told my wife you looked like a cross between Mrs. Doubtfire and our plumber, so the family dinner conversation tonight could be a little awkward.” He laughed.

She nodded, downcast, but understanding what he was saying. She really was ashamed of what she'd tried to wear to the office-- it seemed so stupid now. She should've known better, really, but she wasn't using her head.

"I'm going to act how I would if I was just your AA, and our relationship was purely professional. More closed body language, less smiling, less eye contact with you, more mitigated and professional speech," she said, like she'd thought about it before. Though she hadn't necessarily been worrying about this, she had been worrying about meeting his wife, but recognized the same methods could be applied for this as well.

The thought of being discussed by his wife made her tense up slightly. Casey saw her as the main obstacle standing in the way of what she wanted. She couldn't help but imagining her becoming jealous when told how her husband's assistant looks. It was a fun thought, but it was best that such a thing didn't happen, for both of their sakes.

She laughed along with him at his joke. "Is that really what I look like to you? Wow," she teased, resisting the temptation to reach over and clutch his arm.
7
“No, but I like to throw a curve now and again. It keeps life interesting.” The car stopped and Sam opened the door instead of waiting for the driver. The trunk opened and a wide satchel was waiting. “You can grab the bag! Keep up!” He chuckled.

The arena was open and Sam held the doors for her. He walked across the concourse and to a short tunnel to the seats, which were all but empty. He took the third sear in front the end of the row, about four rows up from the Patriot bench. It gave a good view of the game and was far enough away from others they could speak without being heard.

The players were just finishing the pregame warmup and Sam pointed out his daughter. “If you couldn't tell by the braid, Jazz is number 13.” She might talk to her mother more, buy she took after him. “I asked her why she didn't wear it up under her helmet. She said she wanted them to know they got their ass kicked by a girl. That's my baby!” Jazz came off the ice onto the bench and waved her stick in a greeting to her father.

She speedwalked after him with the bag until she caught up. She walked behind him rather than beside him, and made a conscious effort not to follow him *too* closely. When he took his seat, she was confronted with a dilemma. Why did he leave two seats? Was she meant to leave a space? She wasn't sure. She braced for impact when she took the seat directly next to him, expecting that she might be ridiculed.

She sat rigidly next to him, her arms crossed and her posture straight, like she truly was just his assistant. Picking out his daughter and listening to the story, she let out a soft chuckle, but nothing more. Watching her on the ice did make her feel some guilt, knowing that she was actively trying to have an affair with the girl's father. She took comfort in the fact that if things went smoothly, she would never know.

She looked over at Sam very briefly, then back ahead. "So, I don't really understand hockey. I mean, I know they try to get the puck in the goal, but that's really all I know," she said, her voice intentionally stiffer than it normally was when talking to him, more like how she spoke during her initial interview. She recognized that this wasn't exactly about just going and watching his daughter's hockey game, but she wanted to at least know what was going on.

“Stand up, Casey. Quick, before she turns around.” Sam stood as well, “Put the bag in the seat between us and sit on the end.” Sam clapped a couple times, and yelled "Go Patriots!” Jazz clearly thought this way too much and smacked the plexiglass behind her with her stick. “Kick ass, thirteen!” He sat back down.

“Now, what you want to do during the game is watch the bench for number 13. If it isn't there, pretend to watch the game a little bit, but mostly at a file. When she is there, you look mostly at the file, an occasional glance up, and ask me questions. Don't touch me, point to the file and talk to me.”

The game was starting, but his daughter played on the second line. “Now, she's going to be out there in a few minutes. If I start cheering or yelling, you pay attention a little bit more, maybe clap, just don't overdo it. Let her see *exactly* what she wants to see. Her dad’s new assistant asking questions pretending to be interested in a game to kiss my ass.”

There was a whistle and a shift change, so Jazz skated out on the ice. Sam stood to watch. “What I'm teaching you here isn't just a skill, it's an art form. Let people see what they expect to see, and you can do what you want.

With haste, she stood and moved to the other seat, following his orders. She took out a file and started to examine it, taking the occasional glance at the ice, checking for his daughter. She played the role well, only looking up occasionally, but mostly looking at the files.

She didn't reply to him, because she didn't think he wanted one. She tried to focus on looking at the files, but it was difficult. She was more preoccupied with keeping up appearances, and thinking about how difficult that was. Being beside him just made her feel a strange, warm feeling that she wasn't used to. Being in a situation where she was forced to ignore it was challenging, but she was managing.

His daughter came on, and she started to look up slightly more, though still mostly at the file. She was onto her second file by now, and was struggling to come up with questions. She didn't think there was much to ask about, although there was one section that she wasn't sure how to interpret. She waited for his daughter to go back to the bench, leaned over slightly to show him, and pointed. "Um, what does this mean?" she asked, timid, again unlike her normal tone.

“You can talk normally. She can't hear you, but best if you sound the same way now as any other time. It's like poker, you keep everything the same no matter what hand you're dealt.” He was watching the game and saw the opposing defenseman lose the puck off his stick and look down for it. Jazz, on the forecheck, saw it too.

“Uh oh.” Sam said a moment before the crunching chech. “That's not going to buff out.” The officials arm went up to signal a penalty and blew the whistled. “What?! That was clean, Zebra!” He carried on for a bit, and his daughter went to the penalty box. “Well, that was just bullshit. So, how's the paperwork? You're still my assistant, so you have a job to do.”

“I mean,” He said, “You don't want to do a sloppy job, right?” The game was played with shorter intermission to save costs, so the game was getting near the end. “I have a ridged scheduled that you must keep up. It will be hard at times, but you just have to grind it out. You know.”

The final horn sounded. “Ready to go meet Jazz? C'mon!” He laughed and headed down the row toward the tunnel to the locker rooms. When he got there, his daughter waited for him. “Hey Jazzy! Nice check! If they can't keep their head up, pound ‘em!”

Sam hugged his daughter and was chastised for doing so. Apparently, she was too sweaty. It was also inappropriate for him to a guest in her current sweaty condition, but it wasn't her fault, surely. “Jazz, this is Casey my new AA… Casey, Jazz.”

Casey glanced up just as the check happened. It made her cringe. She'd never watched hockey before, didn't understand what was going on, or how that could possibly be allowed. She was too embarrassed to ask if it was. She looked down at the paperwork again. Everything looked standard, and she didn't have many questions-- just a few mundane things.

"Everything looks good," she said plainly. In addition to trying to act normal, she was purposely trying not to say too much or interrupt, even when his daughter was on the bench because she didn't want to interfere with his watching the game.

By the end, she'd made it through nearly all of the files. Once the game ended and he stood, she hurried to gather the files and put them back in the bag, then followed after him. She kept her distance when Sam walked up to her, standing rigidly straight and still with her arms crossed. She watched with a faint smile. She knew it was crucial that she acted well now, and was really doing her best.

"Oh... Hi, Jazz!" she said, offering a small wave and a kind smile. She spoke with a hint of intimidation in her voice, as if afraid to make a bad impression on her boss's daughter. She was somewhat nervous about it, but definitely playing it up a bit to fit the role. It was definitely a bit awkward, but that's what his daughter would probably expect. When she was sure Jazz was looking away, she glanced at Sam for half a second for reassurance she was doing okay.

Sam gave Casey a wink as his baby girl walked back to the locker room on her skates. “Not bad.” He said quietly. “Not bad at all.” He led her back the way they had come. “Was that your first hockey game?” The car was back where they had left it, and the trunk popped automatically as they approached. “Grab the file you had questions about and bring it.”

He didn't hold the door for her, nor did the driver. He'd made it plain they could open their own doors unless it was formal. Once they we back in the car, Sam lowered the back glass and told the driver to take the Schuylkill Expressway. “Now, I don't know if you know Philly, but there would be only one reason to go that way. You've never seen Boathouse Row. Even if you have, you haven't. Not until today.”

“You have to think ahead. First, I didn't tell the driver why to go that way, because I wouldn't otherwise do that. But it could come up. If it does, “Oh! Casey hadn't seen it. Be prepared. So, why did I go this way? Because it takes about 45 minutes instead of 15.” He look the file from her and opened it on his lap.

“Aside from a couple missteps, you did well at the rink. So, if you can concentrate under pressure, maybe you'll earn a little surprise.” He looked at his watch. “If you can read the first sheet and summarize it for me… in a moving car… with enough time left, you can unwrap the prize underneath.

He gave her a sly grin. “Remember, we had both be presentable when we exit the car.” He leaned back in the seat.

Casey smirked over at him, feeling some pride after his reassurance. "It was. It was interesting, for the small portion I actually watched," she replied, walking beside and slightly behind him out to the car. She had a promising feeling about this car ride, though she didn't know why.

She nodded. Of course she had seen Boathouse Row-- she'd lived in Philadelphia for nearly two years, but she was happy to pretend she hadn't, especially if it meant buying more time for the two of them to be alone.

Her eyes widened and flickered between the file atop his lap and his eyes a few times, as if she couldn't believe it. This was really going to happen. If she could summarize the paper, at least, which she was confident she could. Without hesitation, she began. "So, the client... um," she checked the paper, "Mr. Greystone, was appointed for a high-ranking position in the Department of Commerce, but he has ties to a private hedge fund that invests primarily in foreign businesses, so he has a financial conflict of interest that will destroy his chance of confirmation if brought up in his congressional hearing. So it needs to be kept quiet."

She looked up at him for his approval, already scooting over and leaning in toward him, ready for her prize. She'd been thinking about this a lot over the past week, and it seemed it might finally come to fruition.

“That was excellent!” He flipped the page, “So what was the suggested response to the problem. Perhaps, since we have a car with so much leg room, you could read it on your knees.” He looked down at the floor of the car and the file on his lap. “Then, you can just put the file away.”

“What you wish to do next is up to you. However, any mistress of mine will end up on her knees now and then.” He looked over to see what she thought of that remark. “Think of this as a kind of skills test. Don't worry though, it's not timed.”

He was watching her without being obvious. She hadn't blushed, that was good. Her eyes, however, gave her away. It was subtle, but her eyes gave her away. He wasn't sure why, after such a short time, she had decided she wanted a sexual relationship, but it was clear she did.

“I'd warn you about what you're about to get yourself into…but something tells me you already know.” He still wasn't confident she could pull this off. Elle wouldn't be mad about his actions, but she'd be furious that it was his assistant. Not only could it complicate his job, there was the chance that it could be intimate on more that a physical level. That, she'd never abide.

She didn't need to be told twice, swiftly sliding out of the seat and onto her knees on the floor, positioning herself between his legs. The file was picked up and put aside, and then she laid eyes on his crotch, what she really cared about.

She could feel the butterflies in her stomach. This was not supposed to happen, and she knew it. This was horribly immoral and was grounds for her to lose the job she'd just gotten, and that only made it more appealing to her. She placed a hand on his clothed crotch, feeling for what she wanted. She giggled to herself when she felt it. She simply couldn't believe this was happening.

"Trust me, I'm perfectly happy on my knees," she replied, her eyes on his, filled with lust, "I want you so bad, Sam." She unzipped his pants and pulled them down only enough that they wouldn't be in the way. Before unleashing his cock, she leaned back, patting her hands on her pockets, then over her body. She cursed to herself.

"I don't have a hair tie," she pouted, then her face lit up with a mischievous grin. "I guess you're just going to have to hold my hair up for me." With that, she leaned forward once again, and slowly pulled his underwear down, watching eagerly as his dick sprung free.

He felt her hand finally touch him through his trousers and he exhaled at the feeling. “Well, I see you've found you reward.” He let out a quiet moan, “Now…what will you do with it, eh?” He chuckled a little when he heard her giggle. It reminded him of a young girl holding one for the first time.

He heard he say how much she wanted him and it turned him on. Even more than just having a beautiful woman kneeling in front of him. “You look very nice down there.” He leaned back in the seat. “I'm glad you are happy there, too. You'll find there will be many occasions when there is only time, or opportunity, for this.”

“In fact, if you wear panties under that skirt, you might want to rethink that. You never know what can happen in a little bit of alone time.” His mind drifed to thoughts of places and positions where he could enjoy going down on her. “I'm going to guess you had no idea this was going to happen this quickly. Otherwise, I'm certain you'd have asked how I'd like you to groom.”

He heard her say he should hold her hair, and he reached down and collected it up, then held it in one hand. There may be a time when he would use it to guide her to move as he wanted, but not today. No, today he wanted to see what she would do without any coaching. In a way. it really was a skill test.

Sam felt his cock being released from its constraints. He was almost surprised at how excited he was at the thought of her exposing him. It was far from his first time, but something felt very special. Perhaps it was a harbinger of good things in the future. “I don't know exactly why, Casey, but I think I've wanted this since I first laid eyes on you.”

Unsurprisingly, she blushed at his comment. Sitting on her knees in front of him, all she wanted to do was go further. She wanted to prove herself to him, to watch him enjoy her actions. She knew she was capable, and he clearly wanted it too.

She giggled again at his insinuation, the idea of him going down on her still felt like a distant dream, a fantasy. The notion that it will happen in the near future excited her immensely. "And how do you want me to... um, groom?" she asked, trying to be casual, although her red face and thinly veiled attempts to hold back laughter indicated that openly discussing such a matter was new for her.

'Good,' she thought to herself in response to his remark, but didn't have to bravery to say. She reached for his member, wrapping her right hand around the base and waving it around a little for fun, watching its movements with an uninhibited intrigue. She understood that this was a crucial moment for the two of them, one that would make it difficult to turn back. She reveled in that knowledge.

"All I've been able to think about for days is how bad I want this," she told him gleefully before leaning forward and kissing his tip, then down the underside of his cock. "Mmm... I like you," she mumbled in a cute voice as she pulled away slightly. Now looking up into his eyes, she kissed the head again, this time opening her lips and letting his head slide into her mouth, where she used her tongue to play with it. She repeated the motion a few times, humming in enjoyment as she got her first taste of his cock.

He was suddenly having trouble with concentrating on any thing but what was happening in his lap. “Well, uh,” He stuttered, “I like… I like… ah. my I sure like that.” She had put her hand around his shaft and it felt wonderful, particularly knowing it was a precursor to more.

“Landing strip. I like the thin strip over the… oh, oh my.” Her lips and tongue touched him. Then he was through talking for a bit. There eyes met. It was something Sam found incredibly erotic. To him, having her watch his face to see the effect of her actions was so firery his hand twisted just a bit in her hair. The irony of making her messy before being seen in public didn't even register.

She began to hum and he relaxed, closed his eyes, and let her service him. She had a beautiful mouth that felt as soft as velvet. Sam knew it wasn't something he should do, but it certainly wasn't going to stop him. His wife never really liked this, or even did it for him often. He thought he was about to feel one who loved doing it.

Casey exhaled softly through her nose upon seeing his reaction, pleased and amused. She loved the feeling of knowing that she could satisfy him with her mouth so well. For some reason, she had an innate urge to prove herself as better than his wife and win his favor, and she seemed to be doing so, to some extent.

When he twisted her hair slightly, she hummed affirmatively, gratified, somewhat hoping he would do it more. She wondered if he would try to take control at any point-- the idea of which excited her. She was happy carrying this out on her own, but the mere mental image of him using her mouth for his pleasure was intensely arousing.

She pressed on, though, slowly sliding her lips along his shaft until half of his cock was inside her mouth. She continued to tease him, her tongue toying with the underside of his cock while her soft, wet mouth suctioned on his dick. She retreated to the head, then pushed back to the halfway point a few times before letting it pop out of her mouth so she could take a break.

"Landing strip, yes sir," she affirmed now that she could speak while her right hand leisurely stroked his cock, distributing her saliva along its length. "I love sucking your dick so much," she muttered in a soft, lustful voice, intending to get a reaction out of him before she promptly leaned forward once again, immediately sliding her lips all the way to the halfway point once again, then back to the head, now adopting a moderate pace. She intended to really show off her skill soon, but she needed to work him into it.

“I like how you call me ‘sir’, Casey. It makes this sound so damn dirty. I fucking love it.” It really turned him on to have his subordinate performing fellatio on him, particularly in a stretch sedan between meetings. Just as he had the thought, the vehicle hit a small bump pushing his cock a bit deeper in her mouth.

“Ohhh… nice. I love road head. May we have more trips like this in the future.” He tried to chuckle, but it tuned into another moan. She was using her mouth to suck while letting her tongue roam. She had yet to take his full length, and he was highly skeptical that she couldn't do it if she wished. “Ms. James, I do believe you are trying to tease me.” He said breathlessly.

“But it's not going to work, dear.” He was debating on how much to tell her regarding why it wouldn't work. He supposed if she was presently face down in his lap, he could explain. “It's been awhile since anyone has done this. Even longer since someone who ‘loves’ doing it…” He couldn't suppress another groan of pleasure. “So even doing what your doing is going to have me. I'm actually trying hard to hold back.”

“My wife has never been good at this.” He told her. “She doesn't… damn. Damn that's nice… she doesn't like doing it. Never finishes me this way, even though I've told her it's my favorite.” He took a couple deep breaths and steeled himself to last as long as he could.

“I want you to look at me when I cum. That just makes it so intense. Not that it wouldn't be anyway, but I really like your eyes. Such pretty big eyes…” He stopped talking and watched her. Seeing the eagerness she had turned him on to the point he could hardly hold back.

She watched him struggling to hold back and decided to pull away for a moment, not wanting this to end too fast. "So I'm better at pleasing you than your wife, sir?" she asked with a huge grin. She wasn't sure he'd ever said anything that made her happier. The admission that she was, at least in one way, better than his wife, made filled her with elation.

Now invigorated once again to show her affection, she went forward again, this time taking even more, seeming to struggle slightly as it started to go down her throat. She fought through the gagging, though, until her lips were around his base, her nose pressing into the skin above his cock.

She stayed there for a moment, looking up at him while her eyes watered, then backed off. She acted like she was about to take another break, then suddenly went back down almost to the base, then started to bob up and down from head to base while her tongue ran along the underside, starting off at a medium pace but quickly moving into a more rapid one, really starting to show off now. The sounds of his cock in her throat and her gags filled the back of the car.

Anticipating that he wouldn't last much longer, she made sure her wide, longing eyes stayed on his, like he requested. To say she was eager would be a drastic understatement. She'd dreamed of this moment, and couldn't wait for her mouth to be filled with his seed.

“Well, Casey, quite a bit goes into pleasing me,” She had pauses and he caught his breath. “But in this particular case, Abso-fucking-loutly. I can't remember th…” She had stopped talking and taken him slowly to the hilt. All Sam could do is moan loudly.

She continued to work him with her throat. It was tight but so very soft. When she included her tongue on the underside of his cock, he knew he wasn't going to last much longer. “You make me feel so good. My god, so good.”

Despite originally telling himself he would just let her work her magic, he tightened his fist in her hair to make sure she wouldn't stop. He was past the point of no return, and he felt himself building deep inside his loins.

As instructed, her eyes were locked on his. So big a pretty, they looked so very innocent, as if what the rest didn't give it away. All other thoughts were put aside, except for the powerful orgasm building inside him, and the beautiful young woman at his feet.

With a loud groan he climaxed and felt it throughout his entire body. It would have been one of the best he could remember if his mind had the capacity to think beyond the spasms of pleasure. When they began to subside, he whispered, “Stay there a moment. I want this memory burned into my mind. I can't describe how wonderful that was.”

She groaned softly in satisfaction when she felt the first pulse, and the warmth of his orgasm in her mouth. She slowed down slightly while he unloaded, letting his seed fill her mouth. She enjoyed watching his face while he finished. It was hot to her, especially to know that she was able to do that for someone to whom she had such a strong attraction.

Although she would have anyway, she followed his order, keeping his penis in her mouth for about an extra minute. Knowing it would be especially sensitive now, she teased him by flicking her tongue against his frenulum, enjoying his reaction each time. She knew she would never forget this-- she absolutely loved having him in her mouth.

Finally, she slowly slid her lips up his shaft to the head, then let it leave her mouth after once last swirl of her tongue. She tapped his knee to make sure he was watching, then leaned upwards and dropped her jaw to show him her little cum-filled mouth, before swallowing it all. She closed her eyes and grinned, really seeming to enjoy it. "Mmmm, thank you so much, sir." She laid her head on his left thigh to rest, a cute smile on her face that somehow managed to look innocent in spite of what she'd just done.

Although she had been concerned about keeping herself clean at first, she had clearly forgotten about that, or at least cared about other things more in the moment. Her hair was unruly, the tears in her eyes had smeared her mascara, and the bottom of her face was covered in spit and slobber. She didn't really care yet-- it had been worth it, but she worried what he might think.

They had groaned together when he'd filled her mouth. It was so nice to know she was enjoying herself as well. The difference was so apparent. He watched her eyes and face as he released his load into her mouth. There was no reading it wrong. She loved every minute. “I'd better stop thinking about it, or I'll have a bulge all day,” He thought.

Ever after he had finished she teased a bit with her lips and tongue. “Mmm… I'd call you a little tease, but you absolutely take care of me after you do. What should I call you then, eh? My little… what?” She pulled back.

“Well, look at you.” He smiled at her when she opened her mouth to show him cum. “Perhaps you can be my little tart? How does that sound to you?” Then she thanked him for giving him an incredible blowjob. He just smiled when she did.

“Now, get one of the hand towels in the little bar cabinet and clean your mess.” He chuckled. “You might get your chin first, though. See how easy it is to get carried away?” The digital clock by the bar told him that it could be close. “Well, you have about ten minutes before we get to the office. So, you got an A+ for the awesome head, now you get graded on your rebound time.”

He took a ruined make-up and missed hair. “Well, I can't do any more damage now.” He grabbed her forcefully by the hair and slid forward in his seat. He kissed her hard on the mouth, but didn't bite this time. He did slide his right hand up between her legs. Her crotch was wet, and it pleased him greatly.

"That sounds good," she mumbled, seemingly in a bit of a daze as she reached for the towel and wiped off her mouth. While she cleaned up, she couldn't stop smiling. This really did feel like a dream come true to her, and that much was obvious judging by her expression. She truly did enjoy giving blowjobs, and that was probably her favorite she'd ever given. "I hope you plan on letting me do that a lot."

Now that it was over, though, she started to think about what would happen next. She wondered if anyone would notice that she was more smiley than he had been because she knew she wouldn't be able to suppress it. Her looks could give it away, too. She couldn't see herself, but she could tell that she had gotten a bit messy. "How bad is it?" she asked, a bit nervous, "what should I do?"

Just then, though, he pulled her into a kiss. She was certainly receptive, but more passive than she had been when they'd kissed before, letting him do most of the work. She placed one hand on his chest, then running it down his abs through his clothes. "Mhm," she hummed into his mouth in response to his hand, encouraging him to touch her. It was irresponsible to do so when she was supposed to be cleaning up, but she wasn't exactly thinking with her brain.

Sam broke the kiss. “Yes, I'm hoping you can do that as often as possible. If you finish me like that every time, I'll be a happy man. That was outstanding.” He took the towel from her. “There is a mirror on the flap above the bar. I didn't purchase this ride, but that will sure come in handy, eh?”

He was clean enough to pull up his boxer briefs and trousers. When his belt was buckled he pushed himself off and proceeded to watch her tinker with her makeup in an attempt to look respectable. “Don't forget your hair!” He hummed in amusement. “Good thing you swallow, right?”

“You don't seem quite flustered enough. So, as your boss, I want you to tell me your thoughts as this happened. What you were feeling at certain points.” He sat back and crossed his legs, all ready for the office. “The filthier the better. That's another thing I don't get. Dirty talk. Show me what else that pretty mouth can do.”

"Good. I'll do it as much as you want." She took a last glimpse of his dick before he put it away, with a slight frown. "You have a nice cock. It's fun to suck on," she said with a smile, feeling up his abs. As much as it had been satisfying to make him cum, she hadn't gotten off herself. She didn't mind, really, but it meant that she was still extremely horny.

She turned her back to him to look into the mirror and try to fix her makeup. It was bad, but she was able to salvage it by just wiping most of it off of her face. Anyone who looked closely and had paid attention to her makeup earlier would notice the difference, but it was really the best she could do.

Her hair was much more of a problem because, in the absence of a brush, not much could be done to fix the unruly mess. She repeatedly ran her hands through it to try to settle it in, but her hair was still frizzy compared to before. She turned back to him, scrunching her face, "This is the best I can do."

His next request made her giggle. "Well, when I first saw it, I wanted just wanted to shove it down my throat, but I decided to tease you first." She was starting to get red, perhaps indicating she wasn't used to talking so openly about such salacious things. "And then I just wanted to see you enjoy it, especially when it looked like you were having trouble holding it in. And you looked like you enjoyed it so much, I was just thinking about how much better I must be compared to your wife, and that made me try even harder."

She leaned up against him, placing one arm across his body and laying her head on his shoulder. "Are we going to wait until after the thing over the weekend to, like, you know...?" for some reason, talking about it made her shy again, even after everything she'd just said. "I've been thinking about it.”

He loved what she was saying, the proverbial music to his ears. The thought of having her mouth on his cock whenever he wanted was starting to arouse him again. “So naughty. It's a good thing HR can't hear you! However, if you are intent on sucking me dry like that at every opportunity, you might want to bring a brush.”

It didn't help with his erection when her descriptions began. Having her blush just a little while she so casually used words meant for a locker room was hot. “You enjoyed me enjoying you. I like that.” He said, then the conversation turned to his wife. There weren't any feelings of guilt, but it did change the mood.

“Yes, Casey, that was not better than my wife, though. It was better than… well, than I can remember.” He gave a little sigh. “But, you have one huge hurdle to jump. There is no way we can do more before that. It isn't about trust or anything, but she might read you like a book. I can't risk it.”

"I know. I understand," she said, frowning a bit. She got nervous thinking about it. If she slipped up, it could ruin everything that she had lined up with him. It would be disastrous. "I... I really will try my best. You don't understand how bad I want this." She pulled herself tighter against him, cherishing the feeling before they inevitably had to return to the office.

She got quiet, just enjoying the moment. She glanced down and noticed that he seemed to have been excited once again. It made her giggle once again. She thought of touching it, but thought better of it after she had already started to reach out, instead placing her hand next to it on his lap. "Does he miss me already?" she teased, grinning over at Sam. "We're going to have fun."

She glanced out the window and recognized that they were nearing the building. She sighed. "How am I supposed to focus on work stuff now? My mind is all cloudy," she whined, though she was clearly teasing him. She leaned in closer. "I'm so horny, sir," she whispered into his ear.

“It's not just your best, girl, this is a test you have to ace. You might not hear a thing about it Saturday night, but I certainly could when I get home.” He felt her hand on his leg. “I'm going to get grilled anyway. It'll start tonight, actually, because Jazz and Elle have already texted about you.” He knew they'd be jabbering about it like little old ladies for days.

“So, if you really want this, sit back so I don't smell like perfume.” He couldn't stifle a grin as much as he wanted. “Also, if you drool while you stare at my dick like you are… people are going figure it out.” It had also been forever since he could use language like this with someone at work. That was a pleasant side benefit.

“Yes, he wants you again. Did you think it just popped up for the view?” He reached out and lightly fondled her breast as he set her aside and next to him. There was a stick of Speed Stick in a pouch by the seat. “Not that the view isn't nice.” He thumbed her nipple. “There's a brush over there, show me some initiative and take the shit you need.”

“Show me some ass, too, but be quick. We have about three blocks to the office.” Sam was genuinely having fun with her. This would be very nice to have, but it all hinged on her ability to be more mature inside than she looked outside. “So, what’s my daughter's jersey number? Do you dig anal? Because you have a tremendous ass. What's the combination of the safe?” He laughed. “C'mon! Quick quick…!”

Casey grimaced. Being a topic of discussion for his wife and daughter gave her mixed emotions. The sane part of her wanted his wife to pay as little attention to her as possible, for her to be an afterthought. That would improve her chances of pulling it off. But the sick, twisted part of her liked the image of his wife growing jealous of his gorgeous assistant. "I want to hear about it."

A soft exhale of arousal escaped her when his hand grasped her breast. She continued to stare at the tent in his pants, even after he acknowledged it. "Do you think you'll be able to keep your mind off of me when you're at home?" she asked, genuinely curious. She knew he would be all she thought about for the rest of the day, and simply wondered if it was mutual.

She turned away from him and reached for the brush, purposefully leaning forward so that her ass was in the air upon his instruction. She reached a hand back and pulled her pants down just enough to show the bare globes of her ass, her black thong the only thing covering her most intimate areas. Her ass wasn't enormous, but it was an impressive size and shape for such a petite woman-- she clearly worked out.

Brushing her hair and freshening up, she wasn't ready for his barrage of questions. They clearly flustered her, as they were intended to. "Thirteen. Uh... m-maybe for you, and uh... 4857...2...9!" she spat out in frantic, rapid spurts to satisfy him, then looked back to see his reaction. The compliment sprinkled in the middle had made her turn red once again, which she didn't even try to hide.

He gave her ass a swat. “Maybe for me. huh? What's that mean? Either you dig it or you don't, darlin’.” The vehicle pulled up to the curb at the Market Street office. “And you want me to spill family secrets? For that you'd *better* dig anal. Now straighten up and fly right, we're here.” He opened his door a hopped out.

The trunk popped open, but instead of moving to the back, he was intentionally short with Casey, “Grab the files.” He looked at his phone. “Meet me in the conference room at 3:00.” Then he just turned and headed for the entry doors. Instead of taking an elevator, he ducked into the stairwell and headed for his little private space in the basement.

The suit he was wearing was hung on the rack to be dry cleaned. No one would fetch it there, he'd have to drop in off on the first floor. Executives didn't have time for those errands, so it was delegated to others. There were clean sweats in his room, so after a change, he worked the weights and then showered.

“Okay, ” They were seated in the conference room. “Saturday is going to be something. So we need to start going over it. Here, you need to review these files. It's three people we need to meet, have some discussions, take a first read. They could be players at some point.” Sam stood and stabbed at the papers with his index. “Just roll with it.” He threw both hand in the air as if exasperated then pointed at the papers again. “Welcome to drama club.”

“Don't argue with me, you're too new. You can explain, put your head down, ask questions. You just make it look like I'm frustrated and you're…whatever you do if a boss was frustrated.” After they were done, he'd walk past Grace and give her the “grin and bear it smile.” “So, how are you going to handle Saturday night?”

She gasped at the smack, then giggling in arousal. "It means I've barely tried it, and I didn't like it when I did, but I'd give it another chance for you." With great effort, she fit her ass back into her pants, ran the brush through her hair one last time, and exited the car. Files in hand, she took the elevator up to their office, and went to her desk.

As paranoid as she was about someone picking up a slight difference in her appearance, her occasional, brief scans of the room indicated that no one was paying much mind to her. She attempted to do office work for a while, to no avail. Her mind was cluttered with thoughts of him, what they'd just done, and especially his cock. She caught herself smirking while trying to look through files several times. She anxiously waited for 3 o'clock to arrive, and was glad when it did.

She immediately understood what was going on when he started to feign frustration with her. Playing along, she placed her head in her hands. After a few seconds, she looked up with a fake frown, then looked down at the files. She asked several mundane questions while she read through, repeatedly rubbing her face and sighing to put on the facade that he was frustrated with her.

"How will I handle it?" She pointed to the file on one of the three people, "The file suggests he's a ladies' man, so I can be more open and talkative with him, especially in front of your wife. Unless you think that would just worry her about how I am with you when you're not there?"

"And the other two are similar: act formal yet casual, defer to you, make small talk." She looked off to the side, as if nervous to look him in the eye because of how harsh he was being with her, her acting quite impressive. "And to keep up appearances with your wife, I act nervous in front of you, stiff, no smiles or humor, and I'll try my best with the blushing. If and when your wife drills me, I give her the truth but omit details that would give any indication of our relationship.”

“First. she not going to drill you, she's going to read you. You're going to have to talk, and I'm sure she'll try and elicit comments, but nothing direct.” He sat, shook his head, and put his hands out on the table. “So, the ladies man, he'd be easy for you normally, it's a simple play. Elle just has to *know* it's a play. Pretty simple solution, say something a little catty about him to her. Like, ‘his file says he's a ladies man. I think he overestimates his attractiveness’. Nothing too bad, just so she realizes you're acting.”

“With me, don't act scared, just new. You want to impress, you listen carefully, that kind of shit. Now, if the both of you are with me and the right moment comes along, I might say something off color to you. For instance, if the ladies man came up, I might tease you with, say, ‘what don't think you can get a… rise out of him?’. Elle will undoubtedly say something. You just look bewildered. As if you can't believe I said it.”

That made him think of an outstanding idea. “Also… I'm going to do one thing. If she wants to put her skills to use, I'll give her a job!” He popped up out of his chair. “It's brilliant! She has such a laser focus, I just need to direct it properly. I'm going to tell her that since you, like every other hire, had no idea what the job fully entailed, I want her to watch you with the targets. Tell me if she thinks you can handle it.”

He knew his wife would bring him a full report on her. “She'll probably write me up a summary and give it to me in a binder sectioned off into positive, negative, and neutral aspects of your interactions. If she's doing that, it will put blinders on her to everything else. It can't hurt.”

“Okay, any questions on Saturday or anything else?” He took the seat at the head of the table. It put her in close proximity, and while he picked up the file with his left hand, her reached up the table and slid the other between her legs and raked his nails down the inside of her thigh. “Now go get some work done.”

She nodded along, listening closely and taking mental notes of what she found important. She seemed to be composed and confident that she was capable. One benefit of the situation with his wife is that it had kept her from worrying too much about the actual purpose of her attendance, which seemed simple in comparison. She was relatively confident she could handle is wife, she was completely confident she could handle the three men. There would be nerves, and she was curious to see how something like this actually felt, but she knew she could handle it.

Having his wife inspecting her every move, analyzing her performance was a daunting thought, but she couldn't deny that it was a good idea. It made her feel nervous to a degree, but she did well not to show signs of her doubts. Still, as long as she did as he said and put on a convincing act, she thought that everything should go smoothly.

She didn't have any questions. "I think you'll like my dress, Sam," she said quietly, keeping a straight face, as much as she felt the urge to smirk at him. "I was thinking of you when I picked it out. I didn't realize that then, though." She couldn't wait to see his reaction to it, and thought it couldn't hurt to build some anticipation.

With that, she left the conference room and returned to her desk. As difficult as it was to focus, she was very productive as she drudged through the final hours of her shift. She found herself not looking forward to her time at home after work, but rather seeing him again the next morning.

Sam decided he was almost done for the day. He did collect his messages and sorted through them. None were important enough to return immediately, so he put some papers together. He wasn't a golfer, so he didn't putt in his office, nor did he have a dart board. He sat in his padded swivel chair and prepared for the inevitable. He frosted his office glass and picked up his phone.

“Did you get the Wright jury picked?” Only his wife did not want to discuss anything but his new employee. “So you talked talked to Jazz I take it?” She had, and he would hear all about it. He let her carry on, then, “Look, I'm not sure she's even cut out for the job. So look…” He spelled out what he wanted her to do.

He wasn't interested in going out and he had no meetings, but instead of making the commute, he stayed in the city. Since this was a busy time for the weights, and had already had a light workout, he decided to just use his hideout in the building, have a couple drinks and catch up on some sleep.

The next morning, Casey made her typical by-foot commute to work. She wore the only pair of dress pants she owned besides the pair she had worn the day before, and a loose-fitting olive sweater. She decided to wear her hair down again.

Unlike the previous day, today felt like she was really going to work. She was excited to see Sam, of course, but she didn't expect much to happen between them. Even if something did transpire, she feared would struggle to enjoy it, as she was already feeling the pressure for tomorrow. In her mind, today was about being productive and preparing for the next day's event.

She arrived promptly-- 5 minutes before her shift technically started. A glance into his office told her that he hadn't yet arrived, so she situated herself and got to work. Though the part of the job she hadn't known about when she signed up was exciting in its own right, albeit stressful, she enjoyed the simple marketing work, and thought herself skilled at it. When she wasn't busy swooning over her boss, she did good, quality work.

Sam came into the office late, but he'd been up returning calls, planning out a boring day, and trying to find coffee. Even the line for the cart in front of the building was long. As he walked past his assistant's desk he said, “Coffee!” Then he pointed to his office.

Once she came in he nodded to a chair for her to sit. “Well, I talked to Elle and she's going to be watching you…for me. So that's good. She also called you my ‘work wife’ already, so there's that. If she says it to you, have fun with it, roll your eyes, whatever. It won't matter much unless you say something like, “I just can't wait to help you with the wifely duties!” He smiled, probably his first of the day.

“Remember when you applied for the job and I said you might have to travel? Well, in a week or so, that's going to happen. Something happened last night, and they're working on some other solutions, but it looks like we may be going. We'll, I'm going. You might be going, but it's more likely than not if I do… you do.”

"Work wife?" she asked, giggling already, "if only she knew. I'm glad you got out in front of that one, I probably would've laughed when she said it otherwise." It was mildly amusing, but it did concern her to a degree. It meant she was already growing jealous, and they hadn't met yet. That just meant she would have to be perfect the next day.

"Okay. I don't have any plans any time soon, so that's fine with me. Where to?" she asked. Many, many more questions were already circling through her head. Traveling with him sounded appealing. Although there would still be work, but she hoped that there would still be enough time to enjoy the company.

She had carried her purse into the room with her, and was keeping it set on her lap. She fished through it, then held onto something, keeping her hand in the purse and looking up, as if prepared to brandish what she was holding once given the opportunity. She didn't want to change the subject, though.

“Plans?” Sam laughed aloud, “You don't have plans! What you have is potential free time to do what you want that can be disrupted at any moment to do what or go where I need. Plans… my, that's really cute!”

“Well anyway,” His laugh had died to a chuckle, “I only know one stop for sure. Macron is being a bit of an ass, so I need to talk to a couple of his people. Have you been to Paris? It's not what it used to be, but it's still fun.” He had yet to be home, so he hadn't told Elle yet. “There is a chance my wife will go, she likes spending money there. No doubt she'd drag you out shopping if she comes.”

He reread something on his phone. “It could be Oslo or Istambul, depending what I find out. It could also be straight back home. Hard to say.” He handed her a file. “Those are the people we might have contact with, along with what we know about them. Don't just memorize it, look at what angles you could play.” He told her to talk with Grace to know what to wear, and take the corporate card to get anything she would need.

She'd been bouncing in her chair with her purse on her lap, and her hand halfway in it. He was tempted to see how long she could hold it back in. “Okay Casey, what have you got there?”

His laughter made her feel embarrassed, evidenced by the slight deflation of the smile that seemed endemic to her face when she was around him in private. Of course she wouldn't have objected if she had planned anything because she understood that work came first, but it was convenient that it wouldn't conflict with anything.

"Paris?!" she said suddenly, her head shooting up and her eyes widening, surprised and excited. "I've never been, but I've always wanted to. It seems so... romantic. I hope your wife doesn't go-- no offense." She was practically bouncing in excitement. She could settle for Istanbul or Oslo-- neither of which she had been to before, but she was clearly hoping for Paris.

She grabbed the file and took a cursory glance through it to get an idea of what she was working with, then set it aside. She seemed excited at the idea of getting to go shopping for work again, especially after the fun she'd had the first time.

When he finally acknowledged that she was clearly waiting to show him something, she quickly pulled it from her purse and waved it at him. By the looks of it, it was just a small, blank white card. "I have a gift for you."

She placed the card face down on the desk and slid it over to him. "My rec team had a match last night, and I decided to go for the first time in a few months," she explained, sounding just a bit nervous, "and I just wanted to give you a visual. I hope you like it."

On the other side of the card was a Polaroid picture she'd taken in her mirror in her volleyball uniform. She was facing away from the mirror to show the way that her blue shorts hugged her ass. They were so short that half of her ass was exposed. Her head was turned back toward the mirror, her torso tilted enough to give a side view of the way the tight uniform pressed against her breasts. She smiled sweetly into the camera. She watched him with a nervous grin as he looked at the picture, wondering what he thought of her gift.

“My my. Shame you have no reason to pack that uniform for the trip. I believe it would be fun to strip off of you. Very, very, slowly.” He smiled lustfully at the picture. “Of course, you can't. It may sound silly, and just someone seeing it wouldn't be the end of the world. But it would be a bread crumb.”

He took one more long look, then handed the picture back "You need to put that in the safe next chance you get. Just as with the uniform, there would be no reason for me to have it. Could I explain it away? Sure. But it would be one more thing that would make someone wonder. So, we have to give the precisely zero.”

He stood up And told her to follow him. “Come on, it's time to get you a locker, you need to be able to change when you're at work.” Sam led her to a closet filled with office supplies and found a combination lock. He handed it to her and motioned for her to follow him to the elevator.”

On the way down he explained that she should keep workout clothes if she wanted to use the gym, and two sets of work clothes, one casual, and one dressy. “You're going to end up here at the office more than you think, so get used to it.” He showed her the women's locker room and told her to step inside and pick a locker.

“Has anyone ever shown you the rooftop?” He used his pass key once they were back on the elevator to access the top floor. “It's rather nice, we have functions up here, so you might as well get the lay of the land. The top of the tower was mostly glass with stunning views of the city. The elevator bank was located in the only full wall, that also had doors to the restrooms and storage areas.

As they stepped out, Sam said, “To the left is the bar, as you can see. I'll sneak up here for a drink sometimes. Over on the right, the long counter has many uses, like receiving lines, buffets, even wine tasting. The square doors in the wall are dumbwaiters. There's a full kitchen one floor down. Now, aside from the fifty feet of ceiling above us, the rest is all glass.

He walked with her out to the middle of the space, which was bathed in mid morning sunshine. “The roof retracts, so it can be an open air venue. I'm sure you'll see it in it's splendor one day. But the view is incredible.” He stopped and admired the view, and was almost glad the view to the north, where he had grown up was blocked.

“It is very pretty up here. Now come along with me. Let's go back over by the long counter.” He led her back under the covered areadr "Now drop your pants, then bend over that table and face me. “Listen carefully. If you even try to lie to me I will give you one hell of a spanking. Why did you give me that picture? Explain yourself.” He chuckled. “I want to hear you discuss it. Or would you prefer I redden the other cheeks?”

A wide smile was cast along Casey's face the entire time he admired the picture. She'd put some effort into making sure the angle was perfect, and she'd been satisfied with the result. To see it bear fruit was a reward well worth it. Once he was done looking, she took it back, returned it to her purse, and set her purse aside.

While they were in the elevator and then the locker room, she looked him in the eye when he spoke and clearly seemed to be listening. However, she spent most of the time that he wasn't talking staring at his crotch, thinking about his bulge, and repeatedly replaying the events of their car ride the day before. She knew it was bad, and that she needed to focus, especially in preparation for tomorrow, but it was challenging.

Her gaze finally escaped him when they reached the top floor. She admired the view of the city for a while. She could pick out the area where she lived, among many other landmarks and buildings that she frequently passed by, although she now saw them from a greatly different, more elevated view. She then looked around the space itself, which was impressive in its own right. "This is spectacular."

She followed him to the counter, still taking in the view when he suddenly snapped her out of it. Obediently, she promptly pulled her pants down, letting them drop to her ankles, and bent over the table. Her ample, round ass was fully on display, only barely covered by her bright pink thong. She craned her neck to look back at him, a nervous yet jovial smirk on her face. "Like this?" She felt quite compromised, both due to the pose she was in and the way she'd so readily followed his orders, but she found herself enjoying that feeling.

Even though part of her wanted him to spank her, she couldn't help but divulge information to him. "I-- um, when I decided I was going to go last night and I got ready, I was looking in the mirror and thinking about how slutty I looked in the uniform. And it made me think about you, and how badly I wanted you to see me in my volleyball uniform. So I took the picture. And... I guess I just wanted to use it to remind you how sexy I am, and how badly I want you. And I wanted to get you hard at work."

She braced for impact, anticipating a slap. She almost wanted it. But she'd told him everything. He had an ability, mostly because of how deeply attracted she was to him, to simply melt her. She'd looked away from him once she'd finished talking, feeling her cheeks burning red from embarrassment.

“What an interesting conundrum I have here! You have no idea!” Sam enjoyed looking at her naked ass. He wished he had the time to have her kick of the pants so he could widen her stance. “I'll tell you why in just a moment. I'm enjoying the view.”

“So, tell me. How did if feel for your *boss* give you an *order* you know isn't within his power to give in the business world. Yet, you still obeyed.” He laid his palm across the curve of her ass. “My, I wonder what the arc is on this curve. Someone should write it down.”

He leaned toward her a bit and said, “I thought I wanted you to look at me. Did you forget about that?” He began to slowly slide his hand up and down her ass. “What am I going to do with you?” He said almost to himself. Sam was actually pondering it in his head. Having Saturday go well would go a long way to answering the question.

He knew no one was coming up to the roof, and the elevator rang if anyone accessed using a card. Enjoying her right here would have almost zero risk of being caught, and he considered it. Ultimately, the willpower was stronger than the desire, but it was close.

“So, why do you want me hard at work? Did you think I'd fuck you before I said I would? Maybe you did it to tease me. That would certainly merit a spanking. I've got to say, it's a very tempting target.” He slid his hand over to the other cheek. “Very tempting indeed.”

“My conundrum is this, by the way. I believe you have been completely truthful with me. Truly. I also think you aren't going to lie to me. So, you don't need to be spanked.” He paused, “But, I think there's a spark. A little itch in your head that's dying to feel the palm of my hand come down on the sweet meat of your ass.”

“But I'll wait until you ask sweetly for it.”

She shivered when she first felt his hand on her rear. Shockwaves of excitement coursed through her body. The knowledge of how wrong this was only made it feel better. She arched her back just a bit more, further improving his view. She turned her head back again once he reiterated his demand. She had to make an active effort to resist the urge to look away, feeling herself blushing badly.

"I...um, liked it," she plainly stated, already clearly flustered. To say she liked it was an understatement, though. She *loved* how it felt to submit to his demands. She hadn't even mulled it over when he made the order-- she followed it without hesitation. "You're my boss. I follow your orders," she added with a smirk.

"Why? Well... a lot of reasons." She very subtly moved her hips from side to side a few times, just to feel his hand rub against her ass. The sensation was enjoyable, and it made her feel so naughty. "I like looking at it, and I didn't really think you would actually... you know, give in because of it, but it was worth a try." She paused and sighed. It was challenging to keep eye contact with him while talking like this. Her whole face was burning red. "Maybe I did want to tease you a little, too. It's so fun."

She buried her head onto the table, unable to handle it. Her face was so red, and she was so worked up, it was simply impossible to keep looking him in the eye. There was no real decision to make, though. "I... I really want you to spank me sir, please. Really hard, please," she pleaded, forcing herself to look back at him again, now with begging eyes. She braced for impact again, ready to enjoy the pain.

If Sam hadn't been aroused before, he certainly was now. She not only wanted him to give her direction in her new job, but in other aspects as well. He began to wonder how far he could take her. So far, along with her work, he could also dress her. Now it was clear she would give what he wanted of her body.

“I'm doing this simply because I can. You just don't want me to do it, you need me to do it. I can see it in your face.” He put his left hand on the small of her back. “I can feel it in the way you body is reacting and by your breathing. He raised his right arm and kept his hand cupped to the shape of her ass, then brought it down has and fast. The slap was loud and echoed in the empty space.

“Have you ever cum on command? I've been told it's thrilling.” The second landed on the other cheek a moment later. “Now, we'll just let that redden up for a minute. “Did you like that? Does it get your juices flowing? “Maybe we can check that a little later. But for now…”

Sam struck four times quickly, alternating sides. They were half swings with a flat hand. She would feel those when she sat for a few days. “That was to show you what I'm capable of if you don't heed my instructions. Do you understand, my little tart?

Casey gasped at the first slap. It was powerful and stinging, but she seemed to derive plenty of enjoyment from it, her open mouth quickly curling into a grin. She didn't normally enjoy pain, but this was different. It felt amazing, both because it was his hand exerting his strength on her ass, and because it signified her submission to him, her willingness to endure pain for his enjoyment. The feeling was ecstatic, and she wanted more.

"No, well, not yet," she replied looking back at him still, "something tells me you could g-- oh!" she yelped, interrupted by his second spank. She did not seem to view this as any form of discipline in the slightest, evidenced by the way she smiled and giggled quietly afterward.

She took a moment to regroup before responding, "I loved it, sir. You're so... strong." She could feel the arousal building up deep inside, like butterflies in her stomach. There was a certain tension, a yearning for something more, but she was burdened by the knowledge that it wouldn't happen. Not now, at least. But still, even if she couldn't have exactly what she wanted, she craved more. Just then, four slaps.

She buried her face into the table and groaned loudly-- loudly enough that she worried it might upset him. She sounded both intensely aroused and in pain. "Oww," she whimpered, pretending she didn't absolutely relish in the agony. Quickly, her round ass cheeks reddened. She could already tell she would be paying for this for days, but somehow she didn't care.

"I understand. I will always be good for you, sir," she affirmed, now looking back at him again, speaking especially formal to tease him. She was still smiling, although she seemed to be grappling with the pain of the slaps. "I bet you wish you could just tear my panties off and make me yours right here." She knew he wouldn't give in, but it was fun to prod, and build anticipation for when it finally did happen.

“I was under the impression I had told not to wear panties. Did you forget? I'm quite certain you didn't want a spanking for actual disobedience.” He stepped completely behind her, took her lace panties with both hands and tore them off her body. “I don't have to wish on that, now do I?”

“Now, to give you a stronger message on precisely how I want your undergarments, open your mouth.” He took a step to be closer to her face. “You keep your eyes on mine, Casey. I guess it wasn't such a good idea to try and tease me while mentioning panties, was it?” He balled up her ruined undergarment and put it in her mouth.

“So, you'll always be good for me? You can nod. Yes? Well we'll just make sure of that, eh?” This wasn't his first time doing something akin to this, but he was fairly certain it was hers. “I ought to use my belt, buy I'm not sure you're prepared for that.”

He could tell she was enjoying everything he was doing. This would be a test for him as well, as he wanted to see her tears, but at the same time didn't want to cross the pain over pleasure threshold. It was a fine line, but when he removed the gag, Sam wanted to hear gasps of gratitude mixed with apology. It dawned on him he wanted her. In many ways.

He began to bring his hand down on her butt, trying not to think of it as something to enjoy. He needed to think of it in his head as discipline. “It's going to be interesting for you. You can't even ask me to stop! How will I ever know if I'm getting my point across?” She didn't know he wouldn't quit until a tear fell. The pace and power of his hand to her ass increased.

“So, you want to give me control? Are you sure? There will be many benefits, but I will guide you, and use you, and mold you. That's something *you* have started, so be very sure by the time you get back on that elevator. Very very sure. Your panties are off and this is me… making you mine.”

"I... I... I'm sorry," she whined, seeming genuinely upset to fail to follow his instructions. "I didn't expect this to happen today." She gasped when they tore them off. Those underwear hadn't been cheap, but she couldn't concern herself with that, because her holes suddenly exposed to him for the first time. Her lips were fat, forming a perfectly, straight line sandwiched between her ass cheeks. She was already moist by the looks of it, and it was only getting worse.

She forced herself to look him in the eyes again. It was now safe to say she'd never been so red. It wasn't the first time a man had seen her like this, certainly, but it had never felt so intense, and she couldn't recall a time when she'd felt so aroused. Her mouth flopped open on command, and was soon filled with her panties. Indeed, she'd never done this before, but she found it arousing to no end.

"Mhm," she affirmed through the panties and nodded, then he started slapping again. Her ass jiggled wildly with reach smack, and she started to grunt with each one as he grew more and more forceful. She resisted the urge to bury her face in to the table, instead looking him in the eyes with a desperate enjoyment and desire for more. The pain was excruciating, but the ecstasy of his hand on her ass more than made up for it.

However, after taking so many spanks, her ass was now fully red along with her face, and she had started to groan into her panties louder. It couldn't be misconstrued that she wasn't enjoying it, her now-soaked cunt the foremost evidence of her pleasure. But perhaps she was reaching the point where it was difficult to handle the pain. With the next slap, she let out a muffled shriek, and shed a tear, her eyes trying to communicate what her mouth couldn't-- that perhaps she was at her limit.

There, he thought to himself, there you go. He saw that she was at the line, and the tears welled in her eyes. Sam stopped spanking and began to softly rub her heated cheeks. “There there. I think you now know I can give you intense pleasure with exquisite pain. Yet also use it to obey me without question… I sure hope you know what you signed up for.”

He slipped his fingers between her legs, and they slid in her juices. His the index and middle finger began to slowly slide from her clit to her pink little asshole. “From this point forward, you will cum only with permission from me. Presently, you don't have that permission. It is a shame you wore those panties, because I wouldn't have any other way to gag you. Then you could beg for release.”

He could feel her body quivering, and the last thing he wanted was for her to lose it and cum. So he slowed his movements the took his hands from her body. “I'm going to remove your gag. When I do, you get to your knees in front of me, then you thank me for what I've given you today.” He removed the panties from her mouth and waited.

Once he finally stopped, she kept huffing into her panties repeatedly. His massaging her ass soothed her, although it ached, aggravating the stinging feeling from all of the spanks she'd endured. She was already overwhelmed, which was only intensified when she felt his fingers on her pussy, then her ass. It made her shiver, so desperate that a mere touch could be enough to send her over the edge.

She fell to her knees in an instant, she sat back on her heels, but her ass quickly jolted up when she felt the sharp pain of trying to sit on her sore rear. Instead of sitting back, she leaned forward onto him, her head just beneath his crotch. She laid the side of her head up against his thigh and wrapped her arms around him at knee-height. She met his eyes with an overwhelmed, but deeply pleased smile.

"Thank you so much, sir. Thank you for putting me in my place, and giving me what I deserved. I'll never wear panties around you again-- unless you tell me to of course." She considered asking him to let her cum, but decided it wasn't worth asking, since he'd almost certainly deny her. She suddenly regretted the fact that she hadn't touched herself to the thought of him yet, and hadn't orgasmed in over a week. She already needed it badly, and it seemed he was going to make her wait longer.

Keeping one hand wrapped around his legs, the other moved up and was placed on his crotch, just to the side of his cock. She looked up and admired his bulge, letting her mind wander about all of the things that she wanted to do with it. She could've gone on for hours, just dreaming about his member.

“You will be completely forthcoming with me. Blush if you must, but don't hold back anything.” He put the fingers of his left hand under her chin, and his thumb slipped between her lips. “Here. You can use this as a pacifier. I do believe you like using your mouth. That's an excellent trait.”

“When you speak, in private of course, you will be blunt. When I want to know your mind … when … you'll give me even the most innermost thoughts. If you understand, nod and suck harder.” He petted her head with his right hand. She seemed very naturally submissive, and he absolutely loved it. “Keep your eyes on mine.”

“I want you to suck move up and down on my thumb for each day it's been since your last orgasm.” He gave her a moment to respond. “Now, you may nod to a yes or no question, but do it slowly. Was it alone? Did you just masturbate? Hmmm… With a toy?”

“Well, with all that's happened, I'll bet you are just about to explode. I mean, I can practically feel you quivering.” He broke the grip she had on his leg, and went to one knee. He whispered in her ear. “I wonder if you can cum just to the sound of my voice. Let's try, otherwise, it could be days… Do you want it? Do you want to cum for me? You may… you may release.”

Without hesitation, she began sucking on his thumb. It made her feel so small and under his control to be pacified by just a thumb, and she loved that feeling. She sucked harder and nodded to show she understood, her eyes never leaving his gaze. Her eyes silently begged him to let her orgasm, as she was still shaking, teetering on the edge.

She sucked up and down his thumb nine times, feeling her face burn at the admission. Slowly as he commanded, she nodded to confirm that she'd been alone, and that she'd masturbated, but just looked at him when he asked if she'd used a toy. It felt humiliating to just readily surrender so much information about something so intimate, especially while on her knees and sucking on his thumb. Perhaps that was why she only felt more and more aroused, closer and closer to losing control and giving into the building tension.

Her eyes widened, filled with anticipation as he got down on his knees. She nodded slowly but firmly, sucking harder on his thumb, humming "Mhm" onto it repeatedly. She didn't want it, she needed it. All it took was his permission, and her slight shaking suddenly blossomed into spasms. Breathing heavily, she collapsed into him, breaking their eye contact. She desperately wanted to take her mouth off of his thumb and moan to express the intense pleasure she was experiencing, but she didn't want to disobey him. Instead, she sucked as hard as she could while her whole body convulsed against his.

Her orgasm was especially long and potent, taking nearly a full minute before finally starting to die down. She held herself tightly against him, panting through her nose while the euphoria subsided, slowly moving her lips up and down his thumb to help calm herself. Her eyes met his again, now expressing a relaxed joy as she winded down.

“Well, look at that. I think my pretty little girl might have just had a new experience.” Sam slowly slipped his thump out of her mouth. “Amazing what you can get done with a this. Look, you hardly left any teeth marks. I was prepared to lose it, actually.” He chuckled and waggled it.

“I was going to have you tell me every filthy detail of what went through your pretty head the last few minutes, but I think I prefer to leave it in there to simmer for a bit. But someday soon.” He stood up and waited for a beat. “During a time like this, your head should tell you to stay on your knees. Other times, you will simply do as I wish because you already know them.”

He looked down at her and smiled. It was a very pleasant view and he told her so. “But now, you should stand and pull your pants up. Be careful, it's going to be pretty sore.” She was a mess. “But now, how in the world are you going to face the public? You don't *even* want to look in a mirror.”

He hoped he worried her just for a moment. “Don't worry, dear, I've got you covered. I'll take you down to the basement, toss the clothes in the locker, shower and grab a tower. Put the clothes on the dry cleaning rack. Then go find Misty… no, Mindy. Tell her you need some sweats and you clothes to the one hour.”

“You with me? Sometimes I give orders like this. Then, in the gym talk to Helga or Heidi or whomever it is with the name from the Alps.” He looked her up and down. “You certainly don't need to work on anything in particular, so just tell her you want an hour work out for toning.”

He headed to the elevator, “C’mon now, don't dawdle.” When the car arrived, he stepped on with her and swiped his card and pushed an unmarked button, then BG for the basement gym. “Another perk. Now we won't stop for any other floor. Handy, isn't it?”

The moment he withdrew his thumb, words spilled out of her as if a seal had been opened. "Oh my god! Thank you so much sir, that was..." she paused to breathe, still lightly panting, "that was amazing!" She was still shivering, the aftershocks of her powerful climax not yet gone.

She rose and looked down at her bare groin. He would be able to see that she had shaved her pubic hair into a landing strip, like he'd ordered the day before. Besides that, though, she was a complete mess, her cunt covered in her arousal, traces of her orgasm dripping down her legs. It felt odd to put her pants back on, but she wasn't one to disobey his orders.

She reached down to pull up her pants. They were difficult to pull over her round rear anyway, but the regular struggle was magnified by the pain of pulling them up over her red, sore ass. She grimaced and jumped three times to get them back into their regular position. She tried her best to fix her hair, though she knew it was futile. She didn't have to look at herself to know she was an absolute mess.

His rapid fire instructions made her feel like she needed a notepad, but she was fairly confident she could remember exactly what he said. Her walk was slightly awkward as she followed him to the elevator, leaning her hips forward to try to minimize the burning of her sore skin against her pants. She knew it had to look silly, but hoped he wouldn't say anything.

The elevator opened at the basement, and she stepped out, heading straight for the locker room. She stripped free of her untidy clothes and got in the shower, setting the water to be lukewarm. She cleaned off the sweat and lust from her rooftop fun with her boss, while reliving it in her head. Her mind shifted to wondering how she was going to make it through an hour in the gym with a tender ass.

Sam chuckled on his way back up to his floor. This was quite fun, he thought to himself. She was sweet and wild, which was terrific, but could she keep a secret. His trousers were tight from his lingering erection, “I should have had her take care of that,” He muttered. But he knew it would have ruined the beauty of the encounter.

Once he got messages from Grace, he retired to his office and closed the door. It was generally open, but once closed the room was all but soundproof. The fist call was to the top where he received his orders. “Mills, 541603 Echo, go.” It was not nearly as cool as it sounded, so Sam always did it alone. “Yes. Confirm.” He hung up.

“Bond… Lames Bond.”

She was contect one, and she wasn't in any big case at the moment, so she picked up directly. “It's Stockholm, not Oslo.” He listened for quite a bit. “Then don't. Well, I don't know. Wherever teenage girls go sleep when their parents are away. Yes, well, if you watched her games that wouldn't worry you. Yeah, I'll be home tonight. Okay.” He put the phone away.

The back corner of his office was glass with a splendid view. Instead of hard office chairs it was furnished with a couch and two chairs with wood side tables. He tapped his phone. “Grace, if you see Casey, send her to my office.” He didn't wait for confirmation. There were plenty of files to read while he waited.

"Unbelievable," Casey muttered to herself. If she'd known that asking for a toning workout would mean she'd be doing lunges, and now squats, with a sore ass, she probably wouldn't have done it. Although it was his order. Regardless, she fought through the pain with gritted teeth, as she imagined he would want.

Even though she typically loved to exercise, she couldn't seem to get into it today. Her regular enthusiasm was absent, and replaced by wandering thoughts of her boss's firm hand forcefully colliding with the meat of her ass, and how tremendously horny it had made her. How his permission alone was enough to make her cum, with no stimulation at all. She didn't understand-- she'd already gotten off, normally that was enough, but she was still thinking about it, still fantasizing, still horny. He made her insatiable in a way that no one ever had.

A glare from Helga snapped her out of her daydream, and back into her second set of box jumps. Luckily, besides the discomfort of exercising with a well-beaten ass, her workout wasn't all that taxing, so she stayed clean. Just as Sam had planned it out for her, everything timed up perfectly, and she got back into her work clothes right when she finished up.

She knocked lightly a single time, and waited for the door to open. "You wanted me?" she said, sneaking a wink at him as she stepped into his office, then waiting for his instruction.

“Come in. You can leave the door open. I though you might want to sit on something a little more comfortable this afternoon. How was your workout?” He stood and pointed at the chair across from his and walked to the bar. “I'd offer you some, but you're on the clock.” It was quiet enough to hear the splash of whiskey in the glass.

“Pascal Mailhos. That's who I'm going to meet in Paris. Look him up and get a feel for him. Small details. Elle will come to Paris, but not Stockholm. It's not Oslo, and probably home after that.” He gazed out the window at the sunny day. “Tomorrow night will be interesting. I'm sure Grace has filled you in on all the particulars.”

“Since no one can hear us unless they were standing in the doorway, you can speak freely. I told you I wanted to hear your most intimate thoughts on this morning.” He gave her a look. “Oh, but first, tell me how you feel about fucking women? It's something I wish to know.”

"The workout? It stung," she said with a nonchalant smirk, "Well, it stung in one place. Well, I guess it counts as two places." She chuckled at her own remark. "But other than that, nice and easy." She didn't hide her disappointment that the two of them wouldn't be alone in Paris, pouting at him.

"Fucking women?" she repeated, mildly surprised by his question. "It's okay. I did it once or twice in college-- it's fun, but it's not the same. I love cock too much. Especially yours," she explained in a voice slightly quieter than her normal one, her rigid posture indicating her discomfort at talking so freely with the door open, even if he said it was okay. "Why, do you want me to do it? I would for you, sir," she softly teased with a giggle.

"But anyway, this morning," she began, her smile quickly widening at the thought, "I didn't think that we were going up there for that. And I just... I wanted to feel that so bad. No one's ever really... just, spanked me, especially not that hard. I couldn't stop thinking about how strong you are. And that made me really wet-- well, you saw that. And I couldn't stop thinking about how badly I want to feel my boss's dick inside of me."

She crossed her legs, aroused once again from her own words. "And sucking on your thumb, I wished it was your cock. But it felt so belittling, like I needed to be silenced. I loved that. Then the orgasm..." she couldn't find words, just closing her eyes and throwing her head back at the mere thought. "I can't even describe it. It was so powerful, and you didn't even have to touch me to make me feel that. I felt like such a dirty slut." She eyed him to see if he was satisfied. As comfortable as she'd gotten to be with him, she still felt vulnerable being so open with him.

“Awww…you might to be forced to see some sights on the West Bank and shop the Champs-Élysées?” He made a face of mock terror. “I know what Elle does with my credit card by herself, so with *you* along, I may need to get Macron to float me a loan! He laughed.

“You'd fuck women for me? That's a good start. Just knowing you don't have any qualms about the female body could be a very good thing.” An unusual look crossed his face. “Could be a good thing for you, too. You just don't know why yet. Perhaps I'll explain somewhere over the North Sea if all goes well.”

He looked intently at her. “You know, I didn't ever think this would happen, but it's kind of nice. Around me, you are the belittled little slut who I can have suck my thumb, or my cock, or whatever I want. Bend you over and fuck you. Cum when I tell you… This morning was fun for me, too.”

“Then, you'll also be my watchdog. You are the gatekeeper to me. You'll learn as you go, and it will take some time, buy you'll figure that part out.” Sam paused and pondered a moment. “My second AA kept a .45 in his desk. Once someone just strode by his desk and started pounding on my door. My guy snuck up behind him and put this pistol to the back of his head.” He laughed. “That was a little extreme, but quite cool.”

“Well, I'm going to the house tonight, so I won't see you until tomorrow night at the gala. If you have questions, now is the time! Or anything else you want to discuss.”

"I hope you're not expecting me to do that. I hardly know how to shoot a gun," she said with a little giggle, although she worried that he might not laugh along with her. She held her hand up as if she were holding and imaginary pistol and acted like she was shooting it, amused by the thought. It didn't suit her at all.

"I have two questions. One is more pertinent to the job than the other." She smirked at him. "First, I guess this is just because I haven't been to one, and I don't know the culture. Obviously, I don't want to get too drunk, but it would probably raise eyebrows if I didn't drink at all, no? I'm thinking of sticking to one glass of wine, or maybe to at the absolute most. Since you know better than me, what do you think."

She could already feel herself blushing thinking about the next question. "Um... the other question. I know that you don't want me wearing panties here. I understood that much from earlier." She giggled, still perhaps a bit nervous, her face now fully flushed red once again, "Anyway, I don't know if it matters to you, but I don't want to disobey, so I just want to clarify. My dress is like, knee length-- it's really nice, I can't wait for you to see it-- but I'd prefer to wear panties just in case. Is that allowed... sir?”

“Well, no one would say anything were you not to drink. But aside from my wife, no one will be counting. Alcohol has it's uses, but in this case it has a variety of them. Drink wisely, but eat something with a little fat in it. Complex carbs are no good. There with be plenty of food, so snack, and drink water.”

He got up and poured himself another. “It has it's uses. People will loosen up if they believe you are, too. Sometimes you want to seem tipsy as a cover to pass bad information. Plenty of uses.” He stood at the glass and admired the view. “The event is in the Grand Ballroom at One North Broad. Look it up online and get familiar with it. You'll be dropped out front and just wait in the main lobby. Be there before us.”

“Stand up.” He walked away from the window and had her stand just behind him. “There. That's where the ‘right hand man’ stands. That's you. Elle will be on my left arm. Be within reach, but don't touch.” He figured she would do fine. Grace had probably mentioned it already, but having the visual was better. “And don't stare at my ass.”

“Panties… panties…” Sam scratched his chin. “They just ruin the line of a dress. If it's knee length, you'll be fine. Besides, what if I need you to flash some horny old geezer for me? You certainly wouldn't mind flashing your cooch for the greater cause, would you?” He headed for his desk. “Okay, back to work. I'm out of here. Train to the Main Line… see you around 8:00!”

Casey's alarm to start getting ready went off at 3:30 PM. Perhaps it was too early, but she was never one to take the risk of being anything other than early. She stepped into she shower, taking her time and making sure that she was as clean as possible. Being that she was naked, she inevitably ended up thinking about Sam. It would've been natural to quickly get herself off so she could focus on cleaning up and getting ready, but she didn't have his permission, and planned to honor that.

She fit herself into the dress, almost in awe of herself looking in the mirror, doing a few twirls and admiring her own body, sure that he would absolutely love it. The powder blue satin clung tightly against her body, perfectly displaying her impressive form. Her impressive cleavage was readily visible, the low-cut dress supported at the top only by a small, thin strap on either shoulder. She smiled at herself in the mirror, basking in the knowledge that she looked absolutely gorgeous.

Her makeup routine was fairly standard, as she didn't need anything more than the minimal amount that she typically wore. She applied what was essentially a slightly amplified version of her regular makeup, but decided to break out her bright red lipstick for effect. Satisfied with the volume of her wavy hair after the shower, she decided she would just wear it down.

Once it was time to leave, he slipped on her short, white heels, grabbed her matching white bag, and checked that she wasn't forgetting anything. The open air on her cunt made her feel like she was forgetting something, but she had to repeatedly remind herself that he'd mandated against her wearing panties. It made her feel bare, but maybe that wasn't such a bad thing. At least, that's what she tried to tell herself.

She arrived at the venue at around 7:40, and waited for them to arrive, as she'd been instructed. It gave her time to grow anxious, worrying about all of the details of the night that would have to go well. Some of them were about the job, but most were about his wife.

Instead of the normal town cars the firm used, Sam and Elle arrived in a stretch limo. The door was opened and Sam stepped out and leaned in with a hand to help his wife, even though she hated it, because it was protocol. He spotted Casey waiting inside, and as Elle took his arm they headed toward her.

“Elle, may I introduce Casey, my new administrative assistant? Casey, this is my wife, Elle.” He let them exchange pleasantries. “Well, shall we? If nothing else, we can find the bar.” On the way, Elle began her commentary. Sam figured it was coming, particularly with what he asked her to do, but he hadn't warned Casey.

First, her looks. Elle calmly and quietly said her tits and ass would be distracting. Then that his gay clients would be sad with his selection. Finally, that now the women would now be going after her husband, and doubted Casey could “protect” him. Sam was hoping she didn't take the bait.

The three went walked the foyer and then entered into the ballroom. “Samuel Mills and wife, with guest.” The door attendant made a check and nodded them in. “Nothing to check.” As they moved farther in the room, a waiter offered a tray with champagne. Sam held up a hand to refuse, Elle took a flute, then stared at Casey almost daring her to partake.

The room was done in royal blue, which was his favorite. Since there was no meal being served, there were only a few tables set along the sides of the room under the stained glass. Elle led them to one of the tables and set her clutch down and put her blue wrap over the chair. “How do you always manage to accessorize with the damn room?! It's maddening!”

His wife whispered something in his ear, and it made him chuckle. She smiled and then said something else to him. “Of course,” He responded, “But be sure to have her back by midnight, make sure she eats, and… don't get her wet? Or was that a gremlin?” He grinned.

“Casey, Elle would like to introduce you around for a bit. I think that might be a nice way to start the evening.” He turned and have her his full attention. “You look very nice tonight, Casey. I do believe you will find me at the bar once she's done with you.” With that, he left the women and headed across the intricate tile floor to wet his whistle.

Casey strode along to his right as he had instructed she do. She greeted Elle with a small nod and a kind smile, but was careful not to say anything more than a simple greeting, knowing her place. She just kept walking, acting as if she couldn't hear when Elle began her critique. She did find it deeply offensive, but recognized that it was likely meant to provoke her, and did not engage.

She let her head rotate about the ballroom upon their entrance, taking it all in, but keeping her slight awe to herself. This was typical for the two of them, and she had no desire to stand out. Just as she was about to refuse the champagne, she caught Elle's glare, and grabbed a flute of her own. 'I can handle one,' she told herself internally, feeling the need to justify it.

She set her own bag down and looked away, curiously examining the people present, taking note of the way that they grouped together, especially around their persons of interest. She could hear segments of Sam's voice responding to his wife behind her, but not enough to make sense of it. She wasn't typically a very jealous person, so the frustration she felt seeing Elle on his arm was a relatively novel feeling to her. She would have to hide it, but it stung.

She turned back to face Sam upon his addressing her. "Okay," she said simply, firmer than the obedient way she tended to talk to him elsewhere. "Thank you," she responded to his compliment with a faint smile, not blushing or grinning widely as she would at the office, acutely aware of Elle's gaze, which was placed tightly on her. She eyed Elle, pacing along with her once they were side by side. She tried to act casual, and largely succeeded, taking a small sip from the flute while she waited for her counterpart to initiate any conversation.

Sam found the bar and ordered three fingers of apple juice on the rocks. He always gave the appearance he was drinking at these kinds of events, even if he wasn't. Over the years, it had become clear that people, particularly big drinkers, don't trust those who do not. At least, not as readily.

There were some familiar faces, and small talk was happening all around him, so he joined in here and there. Mostly, he was watching his wife with his…well, what exactly is she he thought to himself. Not quite a lover yet, certainly not his mistress. He was extremely glad his wife couldn't read his mind from across the room.

He was watching the both of them carefully. They looked elegant, and Sam had to put the thought of them together out of his head. There had been a few times during their time together that the opportunity to have others join them in bed, and each had been met with a firm negative response. They still looked good.

The other reason to watch carefully was to see what his wife might be gleaning from his new assistant. Casey had kept quiet while Elle tried to elicit a response with her remarks, but did seem to give in to pressure to have champagne. He knew it would be awhile, and he waited patiently with a smile.

Indeed, it did take a while, but Casey finally found her way over to Sam at the bar, Elle nowhere in sight, having gone to the restroom. She leaned toward him, but not too close. "She's definitely a lawyer," she muttered to him with a smile. "She was pleasant, but I could tell she was trying to read me the entire time. I think I did well, I didn't give anything up." She posed for him, leaning against the bar and slightly forward in a way that displayed her cleavage for him, though it was subtle enough that no one other than his wife-- who she knew wasn't looking-- would notice.

She still held the flute in her hand, about a quarter of the champagne remaining. She'd been pacing herself, clearly. "She asked me what my favorite part of working for you was, and gave me a really stern glare," she told him, straightening her back and letting her eyes scan the room, making sure that Elle wasn't coming back yet. "I kept a really straight face, and said I like how important the work feels. She looked like she bought it." She took a dainty sip of her champagne. "You should be glad I didn't tell her the real answer."

"What have you been doing, just waiting here and drinking?" she asked, assuming the beverage before him was some kind of alcohol. "And shouldn't we be working? Where are our people? I greeted two of them with her." She scanned the room again, both for the men and for his wife, perhaps a bit overzealous about getting to work.

“Stop scanning the room, Casey. Put your tits away, too.” Sam spoke evenly and quietly. The easiest way to attract an audience was to whisper. “If you think you only need to convince my wife, you haven't been listening. Don't show off in front of me with anyone around. Rumors are much easier to get started than they are to stop.”

He wondered if she was right or not, because his wife was an excellent lawyer and wouldn't give anything back. Casey was new at this, and might have a skewed view of what she gave away. He hoped she was right, of course, and he would know soon enough. “You better think about your sore ass. That's the truth.”

“We aren't doing anything yet because our targets aren't lubricated enough. Besides, both of mine will come to me. I just have to wait.” He took a long drink. “You have to hunt your quarry. You can use your tits on him. I think he'll really like it, and it's a bonus if Elle sees you do it.”

She frowned instinctively but quickly forced herself back into a neutral expression, quickly exiting her pose and looking back to him. She understood that it was best, but that didn't make his swift rejection of her little tease hurt less. She considered apologizing, but decided it wouldn't accomplish anything, and moved on.

"Makes sense. I haven't talked to mine yet. Judging by the file, I probably won't have to wait too long, huh?" She sipped again, watching him. She found herself so infatuated in even his simplest movements, even just his mere existence. It was fun when they were alone, but agonizing when she had to hide it.

"I'll make sure she sees it," she affirmed, adjusting her dress slightly. "We'll see if she still thinks they're a detriment after I put them to use. It better work as well as we think!" Clearly, Elle's little remarks had gotten to her, even if she hadn't let it show earlier. She took a brief glance over her shoulder. "Here she comes," she said quietly to stop him from saying anything he wouldn't want her to hear while she entered earshot.

“Oh yeah, he's a pervert. I'm sure he's noticed you by now. If he only knew you you were into older guys, huh? Good thing I don't tell him, isn't it?” He chuckled just a bit. “Remember, you just play tipsy, pass the information, and make sure he remembers you. It really shouldn't be too hard. Unless he took Viagra…”

“Were you needing something stronger than champagne? Here, have the rest of my drink. I insist.” He handed her the glass and waited for her reaction. Elle was working her way over. She had a love-hate relationship with these kind of events. But she always had a smile and was always charming.

“Well, have you rubbed elbows with all the Philadelphia elite, dear?” He said to his wife. “Casey is about to embark on her first little assignment, speaking of elites.” He told her who would get the pass, and she hid a smile poorly. Sam turned to Casey, “Well, the man approaches, young lady, best of luck to you!”

"Not that old!" she teased back, feeling the need to defend herself. She hadn't really thought about herself and Sam in terms of their age difference since an extraprofessional relationship had developed between them, but she did now. He was well over twice her age. It didn't bother her one bit, in fact she knew it was part of the reason he was so enticing to her, but it was an interesting thought. She had fun letting the idea linger in her head a while.

"I really should be careful, but I'll try it," she said, taking the glass from him, sure to brush her hand against his more than necessary in the process. She then took a sip, preparing for the burn of alcohol, but feeling nothing but a sweet crispness. She realized quickly. "Damn, you're good," she muttered to him, setting the glass back on the counter.

She turned her back and saw her target drawing near, eyes on her. She did a little wave toward Sam and Elle, and trotted away toward him. He found a spot further down the bar, apparently in need of another drink, even though she could tell he'd had plenty. She leaned her back against the counter, her head slightly back, sticking out her chest at him while they chatted. Even from out of earshot, it could be deciphered that she was working him without much issue, winking and blowing kisses while her target downed another drink.

Before long, she found herself at a table with him across the room. She let him touch her a few times while she casually prodded at him. The flirting came easy to her, and it proved enough to get all of the information about the man that she could ever want. She tried to catch Sam's gaze from across the room, a little smug grin on her face to indicate how well she was doing.

Sam didn't even have to hear her say it, so she didn't. The look was enough. Casey had certainly garnered the intended man's attention, but had also caught the glances of others. “This wasn't what I was expecting in the least. On the bright side, she isn't shy.” Elle suggested he he go get her and he didn't disagree.

It was easy to make eye contact, because she had eyes on him at several points during her conversation. He made a motion with his head and finger that clearly indicated he wanted her to break off the conversation and come with him. One table against the far wall was empty and he sat with his back to it and waited.

“Sit to my right, one chair between us.” He said when she got there. “Read the room, young lady. Read it… Does it look like a nightclub? You might as well have dressed in neon lights. It wasn't a good look.” He was speaking softly but forcefully. “It looks like I have some work to do with you.”

"Was it that bad?" she asked, crestfallen. Her face was fully red, and she looked on the verge of tears. "I'm really sorry, Sam. Jesus." She tried to compose herself, not wanting to draw any further attention to herself. She fought off the urge to cry and her face gradually returned to its regular color, but she still looked deeply upset, blankly staring down at the table. It was the best she could do at the current moment.

She'd been so confident. She had gotten the man to tell her a lot, but perhaps she got carried away. She'd been so focused on getting information from her target to impress Sam that she had forgotten that the room was filled with other people, all of much higher status than her, who did indeed have eyes.

"I... um..." her instinct was to defend herself. Maybe tell him how much she found out about him to try to justify it, or how she'd never been to anything like this, and she might've been too used to college parties. Ultimately, she decided it wasn't the time. It wouldn't help the situation. "It won't happen again. Well, obviously." Her voice was quivering, her posture shrunken. "I just..." she mulled over defending herself one again, "nevermind. Sorry."

She felt profoundly stupid, and that she'd failed him in some way. As much as she wanted to just move on, and accept that she'd erred, it was hard not to dwell on. "Um... how bad does it...uh... mess things up?" She'd been looking down the whole time, but she finally looked over at him now, still visibly distraught.

“Relax. No one gets it right the first time. But did you put the information *in his head*... that we needed you to put there? The information you got was fine. But we need him to remember what you told him. He's much more likely to do that if it comes from you. Why? He'll remember you.”

He sighed. “Unfortunately, other people here will as well. Hopefully not for a long time, for your sake. These people don't tend remember anything that doesn't have to do with them.” Sam wished he had a real drink.

Maybe she wasn't ready yet, and he threw he into this too quickly. She seemed like she had it all figured out, but she was new and wasn't used to these people. “Well, you did look good. I mean, for what it's worth, if you didn't look so delicious, no one would have noticed.”

“The other silver lining is that I'm very doubtful that Elle suspects anything. I'll hear a full report later tonight, but it would shock me if she saw anything between us. Now I just have to train you a little better.” He gave her an encouraging smile. “You liked the other training we did. Didn't you?”

“Now, you take a minute and pull yourself together, then get yourself a nice stiff drink, and come over and join us.” He knew this could be salvaged, he just had to teach her more. It was fun to play with her, so it could be very enjoyable. “It's going to be fine.” He made physical contact by putting a hand on her shoulder before getting up. “Just fine…”

"I did. He definitely won't forget it," she told him, still seemingly shaken, although that seemed to amuse her slightly. "If nothing else. He'll remember." She was still visibly upset with herself, but calmer now. She loved the sound of his voice more than ever now. It was soothing.

His compliment made her crack a little smile. "Thanks Sam. I like hearing you say things like that," she said with an even tone, simple and candid, the situation having stripped her of her typical guile. She relaxed more now, though still upset. She had her arms folded over her chest, now feeling overexposed in her dress.

"If it's training like that, I don't mind at all," she said. It kept getting easier to smile, the effect he had on her clear. She had plenty of questions about his words, most prominently, if his wife indeed didn't detect anything, whether they could be more intimate now. As much as she wanted to ask, it didn't seem like the right time, and she could ask when they saw one another again on Monday.

She took a few minutes to compose herself, taking deep breaths until she felt fully calm again. She pulled the front of her dress over his chest as much as possible, regretting choosing such a low cut. She ordered a glass of whiskey-- she didn't drink it often, but dearly needed it now-- then found Sam and his wife. She seemed calm now, even compared to when they'd been walking in. She felt there was something that she should've said, but had no idea what it was. So, she just nodded at him, a faint smile to tell him she was feeling better.

Sam had asked Elle to give Casey a little bit of slack, some encouragement, and perhaps even a little advice. When she arrived, his wife took her aside, and he moved out of earshot. The conversation would be repeated to him twice, and it would be quite interesting to compare the two versions.

It looked like they might be a few minutes, so he decided to wander back over to the bar for a real drink. Both had an eye on him, so he just gave them a little wave. “Well, who knows how this will all end. At this point, I'll just hope for the best,” He said to himself. Then to the bartender, “Two fingers of your best Irish.” The woman looked a bit animated. “Better make it three…”

He was going to wait until they looked like they were about done, but after awhile, he began to wonder what subject they might be currently discussing. The drink was still half full, so he picked it up and took it with him on his slow walk back. By his quick read of their body language, it had gone fairly well. He pulled out his phone and made a quick call on his way.

“Ladies, I have done what I needed, I know you have as well, Casey. So, honey, unless you need more social interaction…” He left the question hang, and Elle almost laughed. “I guess not then. Casey, I called you a car. You'd be forever waiting for a cab, and I don't want you walking this time of night.”

They all walked down to the lobby. The limousine was already waiting and the driver open the door for Elle, and she climbed in. Sam turned to Casey. “We'll debrief Monday morning. I know this didn't go exactly as planned, but don't let it ruin the rest of the weekend, okay?” He smiled and then hopped in the limo after his wife.

The conversation with Elle surprised Casey. She'd been rather stern with her when they were alone earlier, which was more in line with what she'd expected. But now, she seemed sympathetic, charitable, and even invested in her success. It certainly encouraged her, and made her feel better about her mishap, but that came with mixed feelings. She wanted to resent Elle, to feel that she represented a barrier blocking off that which she coveted. That way, she didn't have to feel bad about having an affair with her husband. Seeing her in a better light would cause difficulties, so she tried to ignore it.

As he drew nearer, they both went silent. She couldn't help but exert a light sigh of relief as they headed to the exit. All she wanted to do was leave the ballroom behind and forget about her incident for the rest of the weekend. Of course, she would have to worry about it once again on Monday, but she would also get to see Sam again, so it would be worth it in her mind.

"Okay, I won't," she said to him quietly, looking him in the eye, enjoying her last look at him until Monday. "Goodbye. Have a nice weekend." She shifted her gaze into the limo and waved at Elle, "Bye! It was nice meeting you!" She waved back, the door shut, and quickly they were gone.

Finally alone, she placed her head in her hands. It wasn't terrible, and it went well as far as averting Elle's attention from the relationship she had with Sam, but it was still embarrassing to have done a poor job. It dominated her mind, as much as she wanted to ignore it. Fortunately, her ride arrived shortly, and she hastily entered, eager to leave the venue behind, and try to enjoy her remaining day off.

Sam got to the office early as usual after an uneventful ride on the train. Usually Mondays were busy with issues that had come up over the weekend, but there was very little that required his attention. He wasn't sure what mood his assistant would be in after the Saturday night event, but he was looking forward to seeing her.

He would share the assessments his wife had made, along with some of her comments. Sam had heard how the conversation at the fundraising event had gone, and he was quite curious how Casey would describe it. It certainly would give him some insight.

What he did know was that Elle had little idea there was any romantic interest in his new hire. However, she was also well aware that her looks were something Sam would appreciate. He joked it off, but it was valid, and had to be considered as this, whatever it might be, went further.

He knew she would be in soon and likely head right to his office. There would be a quick debrief, but this morning wasn't the time to start teaching her how the affluent and powerful act. Or, more importantly, how to act around them. His plan for this morning was mostly to let her vent, ask questions, and maybe even a little teasing.

The overseas trip was entirely his business, she wasn't even necessarily needed for anything in particular. But, as he'd told his wife, she needs the exposure. There was nothing wrong with a little arm candy, either. His thoughts turned to Stockholm, what had happened before and what going again might bring. “It'll be interesting, one way or another, it's bound to be interesting,” Sam muttered to himself.

Casey stepped into the office four minutes early. Although she was technically early, she felt as if she were late. She'd showed up five minutes early at the latest every other day on the job thus far. Still, no one beat her into the office, besides Sam.

The moment she spotted him, her disappointed expression faded into a wide grin, and she instinctively marched into his office. She wasn't sure how Sam was planning to handle her incident, now that he wouldn't have to mince words anymore. She hoped he wouldn't berate or belittle her, but there was part of her that would enjoy even that, so she really couldn't lose.

She wore a plain white dress shirt and a knee-length skirt, finally having summoned the courage to do so without panties. It still felt odd, but she wouldn't disobey his orders, and she anticipated it might impress him later.

"It's nice to see you again," she spoke, waiting for his instruction and taking her regular seat, sure to cross her legs. "I hope you know how much I miss you when we don't work." It was just a passing comment, but she truly meant it. The day before had felt empty, like she was missing something, and she knew exactly what it was. She admired his features once again, a big and shameless grin encompassing her face.

"How was your weekend? Well, I guess I mean how was your Sunday?" she inquired, leaning forward. Not only did she genuinely want to know, but she of course wanted to prolong the inevitable discussion of Saturday night.

Sam watched her walk in and sit. Then she crossed her legs in front of him. “I do believe you need to cross those legs just a little slower when we're alone. It's nice taking a peek at your pussy.” Yes, what a way to start the day. He leaned back in his chair, put up his feet, and rolled up his sleeves.

“My weekend. Well, you were definitely a topic off discussion, ol’ number thirteen is unlikely to ever win the Lady Bing, oh and you were *definitely* a topic off discussion.” He laughed. “Unless she's fooling me, Elle doesn't know. But she made it very clear that you would be my type, or would have been when I was younger.”

He took a long pause. “You really should bring coffee, you know. But! Tell me all about your conversations, especially the one with Elle, and give me your overall thoughts on the night. What you might do differently, things like that.”

Then, we can discuss some cities. I see so much of the northeast, and I like the south, but if it's food, New Orleans. Do you like Vegas? That's for entertainment. I'm not a big L.A. guy, but I have to go at times. Seattle? San Fran?”

“What? Did you think I was going to wait until we got to Europe to fuck you into a coma?”

"Well, I talked to a lot of the people there with Elle, but it was just greetings and small talk, mostly. But when we were first going around together, Elle was mostly nice, but I could sense that she was being just a little... like, short with me, you know? Like maybe she sees me as competition or something." She shifted in her seat, bad memories from Saturday night reentering her mind. "I just acted confused about it, like I didn't understand why she was acting that way. I think I did a good job."

She sighed. "And then that mess with the old guy. I'm not making excuses, I know it was bad, but he was *really* handsy. Like, I was trying my best to keep it under control. Obviously, not well enough. At least we know he won't forget the info. And he essentially just admitted to insider trading and money laundering to me like he was bragging about it. He kept asking me to flash him, too, and I said no. It was really odd."

"And then the other conversation with Elle, it was a lot different than before. She kept telling me how the people at those events are odd, and difficult to deal with if you haven't before because none of them are regular people. And she said that I'm beautiful enough that I don't need to press the issue with those guys, I should just exist and let them come to me, and that it would still work as well, but it wouldn't damage the perception of me of the rest of the room. She was just... really, really nice. It felt a little odd to me."

Her smile returned when she shifted to thinking about cities. She was confident she understood the insinuation, which only increased her excitement. "I know it's boring, but my favorite city I've been to is definitely New York. It's so big and... I don't know. I just love it. And I've been to Vegas a few times-- I told you my dad has a gambling problem, right? It was alright. I didn't love it. I went to LA, but it was only for a day. It didn't impress me all that much, though."

"San Francisco?" she asked, eyes lighting up. "Is that a possibility? I've never been there, but I've always wanted to go. Is it fun? I've always thought it seemed like fun." She could go on about cities for days, loving travel as much as she did. She couldn't be happier that her passion for travel was blending into not only her job, but her relationship with her boss, especially.

Her version of the conversation was very similar to the other he'd heard. Elle had made it sound a bit more stern, but that was to be expected. Maybe his wife would take Casey under her wing and teach her the ropes. They would definitely be spending time together in Paris, because Elle loved shopping with with a friend.

“Well, the way to handle that is simple. Do you *really* care that he pawed your tits? You move him. Position him so he can get a little feel, let him, and he never forgets it ever. He'd be hearing your voice in his ear while he's trying to get hard for his crusty ol wife.” Sam laughed. It was time to see if she was willing to do what it takes for the job.

“San Fran? Okay. Hold on a minute.” He hit two buttons on his phone. Then he furtively gave his name and identity. “SFO. Low. Yeah, everything on the room if possible. Beacon, two suites.” He muted the phone. “You'll love the Beacon, it's awesome. Yes yes, I'm here. Really. It's carrot and stick? Oh, that's sounds fun. Yes, I have the perfect person for it. Starlite then, not the Library. Yeah.”

He hung up and grinned. “Good gracious, this will be fun. You will get to actually use the talents from Saturday night! We're going to double team a local pol. You get to be the stick. Honestly, I haven't done one of these in ages. We should have some real fun.”

"I don't really mind. I mean, I don't derive enjoyment from it, don't get me wrong, but it doesn't bother me either. I just... didn't handle it well enough. I know that." She spoke with shame, truly embarrassed by her performance. "I hope you liked my dress, by the way."

She watched the phone call with a squint. She was able to follow most of it just by hearing his end, but it felt bizarre how quickly it all happened. She gave him an awed look when he hung up. "That's all it took? We're going?" She was giddy, resisting the urge to leap out of her seat.

She looked back out at the office, seeing that some people had started to trickle in. She leaned in close to him and slowly uncrossed her legs when she was sure he was looking, then suddenly closed them and moved them together to the right side of the chair. "Does that mean... it's gonna happen there? When are we going?"

The job sounded fun too, although that wasn't the main reason she was excited. "Do you have any info on him? And what are we trying to accomplish with him?" She didn't mean to bombard him with a barrage of questions, but she wanted to get a grasp on the situation, especially since things had developed so quickly.

“I liked the dress. I would have liked taking it off of you, too.” He was too concerned with other issues two nights ago, but he could think back and see the dress. It might have looked real nice bunched up around her waist while he had her bent over a balcony, too. He'd have to remember to do that.

“Sure that's all it took. This is a big outfit, and people lower on the chain get assigned all their tasks. I used to be one. We must have dozens waiting to either be selected or handed out. You get way more Lubbocks and Des Moines than Miami and Vegas.”

Sam eyed her as she flashed him, and he smiled slightly. “There you go. I'll be seeing more of you very soon... We'll fly out of PHI, which is gross, but it's the private terminal. I hate flying commercial, even if it's first class. Once you get used to a private jet, it'll ruin you. Elle will, because she'd never go to Stockholm. Remind me to explain that later.”

“This is really something any operative could handle. We do many things for many people. That's how we make money. Do you know why Old Grabby McThisty needed to hear what you told him? I don't. I can figure out some of them, but we don't ask those questions. Unless it could affect the firm? Like lobby or campaign reform? We're just peddling influence.”

Sam considered telling her that is the reason to keep a low profile, but he figured she'd gotten it. “So who wants this clown in their pocket? Who the hell knows. I just know they are willing to pay a tidy sum to get it.” He thought of something fun. “Flash me that nice twat again and I'll tell you when we go. If you want all the mission details, I want you to tell me the filthiest thing you've ever done in your life.” An evil grin crossed his face.

"Private? Wow. I really am moving up in the world." It would be another new experience of luxury for her, but she'd long since realized that those would be frequent occurrences in the early stages of this job. That didn't make it any less exciting that she would get to experience it, though. She didn't try to hide her excitement either, wearing a wide grin of pure elation.

His instruction took her by surprise, but she didn't hesitate. As her legs opened, she yet again revealed to him her vulva, which had grown moist merely from their conversation. She blushed, feeling vulnerable knowing that he was looking at her most private area. She loved to feel vulnerable around him, though, and it only made her more aroused.

"Filthiest? Hmmm... There was this guy I really hated in college, and I saw him at a party. I don't remember why, but I let him fuck me in the bathroom, and so he bent me over the sink and fucked me so hard, and I couldn't stop myself from moaning really loud. And then we left the bathroom, and everyone knew what we did. And I let him cum inside-- well, he didn't last long enough for me to tell him to pull out. It was embarrassing." Thinking back, she realized that it really was filthy. That's what he asked for, though.

“Of course, private. That's why only certain people can pick what they want to do. Someone out west could do it for a fraction of the cost. But they can use me for the important jobs, so…” He watched her open for him. “That's private, too. Not even you can touch it without my say so. I hope I've been very clear on this point.”

“So, anytime after tomorrow, but a weekday. He's on our schedule. You're doing the initial meet in the bar, then you get him into the elevator. He'll be coming up to see me, but that isn't your job. We want a compromising picture, and you're going to provide it. C'mon.” He stood and walked out into the main part of the office.

“You, whatever your name is…come with us.” He pointed at a young new associate. “Grace, you, too.” Sam walked out into the hallway. “Okay, so Casey. You have him in the elevator, about two floors before ours, you just lean in, hand on crotch, and a hot deep kiss.” He looked at the young man, “Hopefully our guys leans in and grabs some ass or whatever. Now’s your chance kid.” He patted him on the shoulder.

“I'm the camera man. Doors open, click click click. So the timing and angle has to be right, we only get on shot. Case, if you think he won't respond, surprise him. Then, bring him out of the elevator, Grace will be the other thug. He and camera man take him to my room.”

Sam pointed to the left as if that's which way they would go. “Casey, you trail the group, they'll put him through the door and wait outside. You come in. Got it? Good.” He pushed the call button and turned to the young man. “Try and get it on the first take. Or not.” Sam laughed.

She listened to his instructions, making no reaction, simply making sure she understood exactly what the task was. She eyed the young man that Sam had pulled from the office. She felt bad that he'd suddenly been dragged into their little practice round, but it meant that he would get to kiss her and feel her up if he wanted to, so she decided it would be well worth it for him.

The elevator opened, and the two of them stepped in. She pressed the button to have the elevator go down several floors, so that she could practice the timing. "Um... Daniel, right?" she asked, offering him a playful smile to get him prepared. He was visibly nervous, responding with a simple nod. "Calm down. It'll be fine," she told him, practicing her coddling. He was relatively good looking-- it wouldn't be difficult to get herself to kiss him. Although, he looked to be about her age, and she had a preference for older.

The elevator stopped, and she sent it back up to their floor. She placed a hand on his back and watched the floor number tick up. Just as it reached two floors below theirs, she pulled him into a passionate kiss, pressing her breasts into his chest while her free hand groped his crotch. Meanwhile, her tongue ventured into his mouth. It wasn't as enjoyable as kissing Sam, but she had to imagine that she was kissing him to keep herself going. Until the door opened.

The problem, though, was Daniel. He stood stiff, which made it difficult for Casey due to their height difference, forcing her to essentially pull his head down. The kiss was very one sided, too, with her doing all the work, and him just standing with his mouth open. His hands stayed at his sides. She wondered if maybe he was just nervous, or if he was doing it on purpose. Regardless, she imagined the picture didn't turn out great, which she sought to confirm with a glance at Sam. She stepped out of the elevator beside Daniel. "At least I got the timing right. Again then?”

“If you think he can handle it. Did you traumatize this young man?” Sam laughed then looked at the young man. “If you're gay, tell me now. If, not, you best not come back up here without a handful of…her.” Grace hit him on the arm. “What, you old prude. I'm just having fun.” He motioned Casey to hold a second.

“Have fun kids! Remember, Casey, the next time some stranger will have a camera. It doesn't have to be perfect, because he'll likely never see it.” He watched the elevator doors close. “Oh, to be young again. You don't have to stay, Grace. Sorry about the prude thing, I was in the moment.” She snorted.

This was fun for Sam. She was like a toy, but if he could use her talents like this, it would be quite pleasurable. Though he couldn't tell anyone he was fucking her, they all wanted to, and he was. They were jealous, they just didn't realize they were jealous of him.

"I didn't try to!" she said with a little chuckle. He looked sheepish and flustered, his face having flushed red. She gave him a frown of sympathy, knowing how he felt, at least to a certain extent. She considered that he might not be into her, but she'd seen him glance at her in the office a few times, and had felt his bulge growing while her hand was on his crotch. He was definitely just nervous, she decided.

They went back in the elevator, and again went down several floors. Once the door closed, she turned to him, and looked him in the eye. "I know you're nervous, but really, it's fine." She gave him a confident smile, having done well to mask her own embarrassment for once. "I won't judge you. Just... do it like you mean it. Whatever you want to do when we're kissing, I'm promise you it won't bother me. Okay?" He nodded, somewhat reassured, although apparently not enough to speak.

The elevator stopped. She sent it back up. She watched the floor number rise, placing an arm on his back five floors away, then pulling him in at two. He did much better this time, immediately reaching for her ass and grabbing a handful through her skirt and leaning down to accomodate for their height difference. She rewarded him by clutching his crotch, feeling an erection through his pants, and pressing her breasts into him.

The door opened, and she knew they'd done much better. She continued for a few seconds, then pulled away from him. She was thankful it was over, discovering that she didn't enjoy such acts nearly as much when they weren't with Sam. She stepped out of the elevator with Daniel, who now wore a glazed over smile of pure ecstasy, as if his life had just peaked. She met Sam's eyes, curious to know what he thought.

“There we go.” Sam wasn't quite laughing, but close. “Young man, you are dismissed. It you need to take a moment, we understand.” Grace stared at Sam. “I'm teasing! C'mon, that was like a Christmas bonus, and it isn't even the season! Okay, okay. This *was* important. The guy in San Francisco could react either one of those ways, so it was good work.”

While it was amusing, he was pleased that in both cases, his girl had gotten the shot both times. It should be a piece of cake. The question in his mind wasn't if she enjoyed what she did with the kid. What he really wanted to know was if using her body for him turned her on.

“Okay, fun time is over!” He grinned and headed back to his office. The smile still wasn't gone when they both sat in the same seats they'd just left. “Isn't it fun to do a little office role-playing? That poor boy, but I feel sorry for his dick. He's going to beat that thing like it owes him money.”

Sam gave her a long look with a half smile on his face. “So, how did you feel about it? Be honest, because you have have to be and I'll know anyway.” He leaned forward and put his arms on the desk. “It's important you tell me every everything. I need to what's in your head.”

She strode back into his office with a renewed confidence, sure that she would be able to handle the job expertly in a few days. It would be easy for her, as evidenced by her success in the practice run. Even if she didn't love kissing men besides Sam, especially with such passion, she felt strangely aroused in a way that she had yet to unpack.

"It was fun, in a way," she responded with a little giggle. She cringed at the thought that the man would almost certainly masturbate to the thought of her. She had thought about it before and was sure people did, but she didn't want to think about it unless she was attracted to them. "It felt a bit tiny. Well... I guess I shouldn't be telling you that." She looked mildly amused, albeit disgusted. "All I'm saying is I don't want to picture that."

"You know, it's weird. I'm not attracted to him at all, and I didn't... you know... enjoy kissing and touching him. At all." She looked slightly perplexed herself, not fully understanding her feelings yet. "But still, it turned me on a little. Maybe it was knowing you were watching, and that you were deriving enjoyment from it?"

She crossed her legs slowly, having gotten slightly wet. Her eyes scanned him, the subject matter slipping her mind in favor of lustful thoughts of the man in front of her. She could hardly wait to go to San Francisco.

“I am asking for a reason. Sometimes I just want to know things for my own enjoyment, but this isn't one of them. In fact, I'm asking for two reasons.” He watched her cross her legs. It wouldn't be long before he would enjoy her delicious little pussy any way he wanted. The thought made him hard.

“Things like *this* aren't really part of the job. Do you think the desire to please me will transfer to another person if I need, or even if I want.” He watched her face closely. “Remember, you will run into people like me who can absolutely read you. They would likely know if you were pretending. Most probably wouldn't care, but some might.”

“I have women willing to do whatever I need the to…” He thought how to phrase what he was about to say, “Unlike this job, however, I do have to take assignments that involve sexual situations. You didn’t sign up for that. So… it's not a requirement, but it might mean I take trips either without you, or with someone else along. You don't have to tell me now. Wrap your head around it, and give it some thought.”

He thought about Stockholm and what had happened. The weeks of arguments, discussions, and finally, the resolution. “I asked about your feelings on females for a reason. The same way I'm asking this. It's something to discuss, because I don't want you to do things just because I want it. If it doesn't turn you on, then it's nothing I'm willing to have you do. However, depending on your feelings, we may have something to talk about.”

"I need to think about it," she said, holding both hands up as if backing off, startled by how serious his response had been. She wished she could give him a solid answer, but she didn't have a grasp on it yet herself. "I think I'll be able to tell you after the San Francisco thing, but I don't really know."

She noticed the way he looked at what her skirt failed to hide when she folded her legs. It turned her to the extent that it became agonizing to sit still and focus on anything other than daydreams about his body against hers. She had something he wanted, and she wanted to give it to him. It was no longer a question of when it would happen, either. It made every minute feel longer, each one a barrier between her and what she so desperately wanted.

"I did think about the woman thing some more, though. It's been a year or two since I did it, and I think it would be fun." She looked down, contemplating whether or not to share something with him. She sighed, then let out a laugh. "I almost touched myself thinking about it yesterday, but I stopped myself because I follow your orders." She kept looking down, feeling herself blush yet again. Controlling it when he was with her never seemed to get easier.

“Good. I want you to think about it. It's not something to rush. Sort your feelings out. We'll see where we land on that.” It was a very important distinction and he was glad she realized it. “It doesn't mean there still won't be some work like that, but it would be much more limited.”

“Stockholm. That was earlier in my career. This wasn't something simple, and someone thought it was a good idea to send me. It wasn't.” He thought back. “The key to making this pass was, and still is, a woman named Astrid. She is a stunning woman with certain… proclivities. In the end, I had sex with her to get the job done.”

He left much of the story out. “It almost destroyed my marriage, but we decided that this was my job. I would avoid it if possible, but she knew it could happen.” Sam also didn't want to detail out everything he was thinking. “So, I haven't seen Astrid in a long time, so I don't know how she'll be. But she does owe me one.”

"Ohhhh." A wave of realization washed over her. She'd picked up certain clues about Stockholm, but now it all made sense to her. She listened carefully to the words he chose, noting where he seemed to leave things out, or be intentionally vague. She had no intention of pressing him, but it was interesting. Of course, she still had plenty of questions, but it wasn't the time, and her curiosity was satisfied.

"So essentially, you want me to-- if it comes to it-- have sex with her instead of you." She smirked, amused by the concept. "I think I can do that. I mean, like, I think I want to do it. I can't give you a definitive answer yet, but I think I want to." Women weren't necessarily her preference, but going against what was typical-- both societally and personally-- was arousing to her.

"I must know, though: what is she like? Is she nice, mean, somewhere in between? What does she look like? Is she cute? Do you think I would think so?" she paused, recognizing that she was asking too many questions. "I just need to... get a grasp on what I'm agreeing to." Although there was some uncertainty regarding whether she could actually do it, she enjoyed fantasizing about it, and that much was obvious from her desire to know more, and the way she practically jumped out of her seat asking questions about her prospective encounter.

“Describe Astrid.” Sam rubbed his chin. “That's quite a task. Is she mean? She can be. I've seen her be ruthless. But she's never been mean to me like that.” He was deciding how much to tell and how to phrase it. “She tried to bully me, but it didn't go quite as planned. She got what she wanted, only it was more than she expected.”

“Ever since we cleared that up, she's been nothing but a sweetheart. I think you two would get along. She'd definitely want to dominate you.” He laughed. “What does she look like… Well, she isn't what you would expect from a Nordic woman. She's a redhead. It's almost auburn in color, and green eyes.”

“She's only five foot or so, athletic figure, I think she was a dancer, but she isn't talkative about her past.” He smiled. “She's very attractive. If she weren't, I don't think Elle would have been so upset. So, yes, I think you wouldn't find her to be very cute.”

“You're wrong about what I want you to do, though. I don't want you to have sex with her so I don't have to…” He took a deep breath. “I want her to demand to fuck *us*. I have an understanding with my wife that sometimes … sometimes, this is part of what I have to do. She rarely asks questions, but if she did. If she ever did…”

"She does sound like fun, yeah." Casey leaned back in her chair, unsure of what to say. It was a lot of information, and not necessarily what she was expecting. Her smile intimated that she wasn't closed off to the idea in the slightest, though. "That's a... um, a very interesting proposition."

She closed her eyes and tried to picture it, to imagine what it would be like. She struggled. "I've never been with a man and a woman at the same time before. I guess there's only one way to find out if I like it!" she said with a naughty grin, watching his expression. Although the possibility of trying something new excited her, she didn't quite know what to think about it yet. She wasn't sure if she could do it, as much as she wanted to.

"She doesn't dominate you, does she?" she asked under the guise of a joke, although she was curious. She didn't think he would let anyone dominate him, but she also assumed there was plenty she was yet to learn about him. "She doesn't sound like she would just lay down and follow orders like me, the way you described her. She definitely seems interesting.”

“No. No one dominates me. As I said, she got what she wanted, but it was more than she bargained for.” He made a bit of a face, but then laughed. “I'm surprised that even crossed your mind. But I suppose everyone has their kinks, but none of mine are like that.”

“The reason I'm considering this, and discussing it with you, is it gives all the cover I need. If it were asked of me, I wouldn't have to lie. I have to do that enough dealing with the job, I'd prefer not to with my family.” He wondered if he were actually faced with the situation, how he would handle it. “People you know are either the most simple or most difficult to read. It'd be good to remember that.”

“I'm going to give you a couple pearls of wisdom. Take them as just that. Were I to think you'd be offended, I wouldn't tell you this, but, it's germane here.” Sam paused, but assumed it was important for her to understand what type situations she was going to encounter, and the people involved.

“Never think you are the smartest person in the room. You can always have more knowledge, but intelligence is a different matter.” He paused. “But here's the numbers. You're right around the 99th percentile, I've seen all your tests. However, that leaves about 80 million people smarter…you'll meet a lot of those people in this business.”

“I'm in the 99.9%. There's 812,000 give or take. Astrid… is one of those, I'm sure of it. So, you need to remember that. If she puts you into the throes of passion, and she will if you let her, you *really* remember that. She isn't a partner or a friend, or even an asset. She's in the information business, and she is always collecting.” He winked.

She smiled, flattered at his remark about her intelligence. His other compliments made her blush, but that made her grin ear to ear with no shame. She wasn't used to being complimented for things other than her looks, and she loved it when it happened. That expression faded, though, at the mention of his own intelligence. She almost laughed. No matter what she did, he was always better. That was part of the reason she loved his company, but it still came with a mild frustration below the adoration.

"Okay, I'll keep that in mind." She squinted slightly and nodded, taking a mental note. "I won't let my guard down around her. Well, in that sense, at least." She chuckled at herself. As much as she was acclimating to her job, she sometimes caught herself finding it bizarre. She never could have imagined two weeks ago the situation she found herself in, and the nature of her job. Traveling to Sweden and having sex with a woman for business wasn't exactly what she'd had in mind, but she enjoyed it.

Although they were normally meeting his, her eyes were wandering down his frame, imagining what it would look like without the suit. She tried her best to focus on the job, but he was so innately appealing to her, the occasional daydream was inevitable. She caught herself and slipped out of it, suddenly correcting her slumped posture and sitting up once again, her eyes returning to his face. "Uh... What's our business with her anyway? Why do we care about her?" she asked, quickly trying to return to the topic of discussion. It was an instinctive question, but she was genuinely curious.

“I'm sure you've heard the term back channel, it's in every spy movie. The Cuban missle crisis. I'm sure you know it was Bobby Kennedy and the Russian ambassador that kept us from WWIII. They just couldn't make it look like a quid pro quo with the missiles leaving Turkey. They had a direct back channel, but there are way more that are indirect. That's where we come in.”

Sam pulled out a thick manilla folder from a file drawer in his desk. “That has to stay in this office, but it's Astrid's file. After you get done with that, we'll discuss the Frenchman. She doesn't want anything to do with him, and the feeling is mutual. So, we build the bridge, or make the link, or whatever metaphor suits you. The people who want them to talk,” He made air quotes. “Well, they pay a pretty penny for the service.”

“I can't give you all the details, but Macron has been doing a little saber rattling. Sweden just joined NATO. So, the concern is that the Swedes, who have 2,000 mile border with Russia, could get left hung out to dry by their new partners.” He grunted. “So I get to play messenger. The Frenchman is easy, he's in our pocket, but Astrid… not so much.”

"I see. So we're intermediaries or we're just doing the dirty work for the intermediaries." She grinned, thrilled by how important the work felt. She'd expected a mundane office job, but certainly couldn't complain doing work with such significance.

She placed a hand on the thick folder, sliding it toward herself, then picking it up and opening it. She parsed through the abundant pages searching for information that was especially eye-catching or that would be helpful for executing their job. "Damn, she really is important, huh? I can't believe you... you know..." she trailed off, still struggling with the thought of him being intimate with anyone else. She knew it happened, but preferred to avoid thinking about it.

She kept moving through the file, occasionally making note of something she found interesting, or potential useful. "Yeah, I think I'll get along with her," she finally said with a grin, closing up the file and placing it back on the desk. "I must say, this job really is fun. And I don't mean just because of you... although a lot of it is that. But the work itself is engaging too. I have a lot to learn though, obviously." The last part was said with some shame as she thought back to the weekend.

“Well, it's part of what we do. But when you think about it, we're just running errands. Perhaps more important than picking up a loaf of bread, but errands none the less.” Sam laughed. “When I started they literally had me pick things up and drop them off. That's it!”

He thought about how he got to his position in the company for a moment. “It's not that the first meeting in Sweden made my career, it didn't. It may have helped, but in reality hardly anyone knew the details, just that the job got done. I had to weigh many things in that decision. At this point, it's not an issue for you. I won't force you into anything. However, getting the job done doesn't just get noticed by me. At some point you may be faced with the same choice as I was. How much do you compromise personally to achieve success?”

Grace came in and handed him a sheet of paper, which he passed to Casey. The hotel was the Beacon Grand, and the room was the Beacon Grand Suite, the best available. It had the address. The information on the Starlite, the trip itinerary, and two sets of numbers. One five digits, and one was eight. “Here, learn the information and memorize the codes, then shred this.” He was looking forward to the trip.

She studied him, unsure the best way to answer his question. Were it a job interview, or even a typical conversation between her and her boss, she would just tell him what he wanted to hear, but she felt like she could be honest with him. "I'd like to say I'd compromise a lot. And I honestly think I would, but I can't really say that with confidence until I'm really in the situation, you know? I think I can handle it, though."

She swiped the paper from him with enthusiasm, any reminder of the San Francisco trip a thrill to her. She through the hotel, the room, the information about the bar. "This is going to be fun," she said simply, continuing her reading. She looked away from the paper and mouthed the numbers, reciting them to herself a few times until she was confident they wouldn't leave her mind. She promptly placed the paper in the shredder.

"So... when we go to San Francisco..." she started with a little smile, as if she had something clever to say. "I know we won't be there for long, but I'm probably going to miss my volleyball game." She feigned a frown. "Maybe I'll have to bring my uniform and see if I... can make up for it." If that wasn't enough, she added on a coy wink at the end. She had no intention of playing volleyball while they were in San Francisco, and she knew he knew that. It was just a means of getting his permission while teasing him in the process.

“Well, don't compromise too much just yet, but if you seem suited for this kind of thing, there could be a future for you.” He said softly. “Women generally possess a great deal of guile, but have difficulty separating the job from the normal emotions of life. That's what some eggheads said anyway.”

“You might have the knack for it. We'll see.” Sam pondered her other question. It was fun to mull over in his mind. If she wanted to play, why not have some fun. “About the uniform… I always advise to pack light, but that shouldn't pose a problem. You'll rarely travel with me and take more than a carry-on. There might be a place to practice, but finding a game?” He shrugged and played dumb.

He tried to stay focused, but his mind was racing. “I assume you can be packed by this evening? In fact, get a bag list from Grace. I keep six, I believe, here and there. Stay prepared. You never know when you'll get a call to be picked up in five minutes.” He smiled. “I mean, I assume you'll want to go… Okay, unless you have something more, scoot. Get whatever done you need, assign the rest to staff, and go home early. The jet will be fueled and ready, wheels up at 5:00 a.m.”

Once she had left his office, he paged Grace. “Grace, get a guy up from tech on the double. Have him take her voice prints for the earpiece, but don't tell her what it's for.” He listened, “Because I want to mess with her, that's why. How do you get away with asking me that shit? One day I'm going to just fire your ass.” He could hear her laughing from his office. “Hilarious. Get me our set up guy in SFO, and put him through.”

He sent a text to a general hub while he waited. It took about twenty minutes, but she rang him and said that a David was on the line. “David, Sam Mills. Coming out in the morning… pull my text off the board.” He waited. “I know it's a bit odd. Just have someone call the ADs of the local… yeah. Next two days. Uh huh. Fluid. Just do whatever you can. If nothing is possible it's not the end of the world. Let me know.” He terminated the call and chuckled.

"Yeah, I'll be ready," she said with confidence, uncrossing her legs and standing up, "I'll see you then, sir." She subtly blew a little kiss to him, and turned to leave, returning to her desk. Each step was a reminder of how aroused he'd gotten her just from talking to her as she felt her wet folds rub against her thighs. She sighed as if she resented it, but she wouldn't have it any other way.

Per usual, she took care of business when it came to her office work. As distracted as she could get around Sam, she was efficient and detail-focused when at her desk, as mundane as the work had the capacity to be. She found a certain comfort in that work, being that it came so easy to her. She enjoyed the more complicated work, too, but it was more of a challenge.

She was interrupted briefly by one of the tech guys to take her voice prints. She was curious as to why, assuming that it had something to do with Sam, but she decided not to ask, and the man gave her no indication. She couldn't help but wonder, but ultimately didn't think much of it.

As he advised, she finished up the work that she deemed to be important, delegated the rest, and headed out a few hours early. It was against her nature to leave early for no good reason, but she wasn't interested in going against his instructions, so she obeyed.

The moment she made it to her house, she started to pack for the trip. She tried her best to pack light, but made sure to include the volleyball uniform, hoping that it would be put to use in the way that she intended. The rest of her night was leisurely, much of her time spent looking forward to the following day.

Sweats were definitely made for travel. At least, Sam thought, when you don't have to see anyone. His suit bag was in the trunk with his backpack that he would transfer himself. It was a habit that worked for him, and no one ever had access to his bags when he was on the move.

They pulled up in front of Casey's place just on the fringe of Center City. He wondered if it was rented or on a contract. It wasn't a bad location at all, was ripe for gentrification, and likely wasn't all that expensive. If this girl was actually going to be as good as her potential, he'd keep her around until she was ready, then set her loose to see where she best fit in the agency. Either way, she'd need a place of her own.

He was pondering if or when he should mention it to one of the real estate people in human resources. She emerged from her doorway just a after they pulled up. She looked good, at least what he could see of her in the city made light. Perhaps she didn't even like the house. If she did, F.X. could likely negotiate a decent price.

The driver opened the door for her. He'd gotten the limousine because at this time of morning it came with coffee service. “Good morning,” He said as she climbed in. “You look awful chipper for this time of night. There is fresh coffee, if you'd like some, though.”

“So, how do you like your place here? I was just thinking about the neighborhood and such. Do you rent?” He chuckled and realized he just brought her into an ongoing conversation in his head. “Sorry, sometimes our promising new hires are in incentivized to stay with us with generous housing options. So, are you excited?”

Casey strutted out to the limousine. She sported a single small suitcase, and seemingly nothing else. She appeared confident and eager to go, wearing light blue jeans, white t-shirt with a crude drawing of the sun on the front, and a bright smile. Her outfit was simple, and not meant to impress by any means, but she still found herself thinking of what he would think while picking it out.

"Good morning," she replied as she got into the limousine, sitting beside him but leaving some space, unsure what was going to be considered acceptable. "What can I say? Travel gets me excited," she explained, leaving out some of the truth while she helped herself to some coffee.

"My home? Yeah, it's nice, I think. It's a good location and it's nice inside, just a little cramped. But I make do." She didn't even question why he would ask her such a thing, having grown accustomed to his seemingly random questions. "And yes, I rent it. But I'd probably look for somewhere else if I had the money to buy a place."

His next question made her laugh. "Am I excited? I could hardly sleep last night, Sam. It was all I could think about." She grinned at him, "I think we're going to have fun. There's work to do, I know, but still." He wondered how his wife felt that the two of them were traveling together alone, but decided not to ask, at least not right now. Instead she just let her eyes wander about his body, fantasizing about the things she wanted to do to him, but moreso the things she wanted him to do to her. It was becoming a common mental trap for her, but one that didn't get old.

“Maybe we can check out some real estate. Or if you see something you have to have, let me know.” Sam dimmed the lights to almost complete darkness, then slipped his hand behind her neck and pulled her face to his, “Careful with your coffee.” He kissed her deeply and lingered, then let go and whispered, “Excited?”

Then he kissed her again. “I think you are excited, but not just about travel.” He slid his hand down over her breasts and down to her crotch. “We're going to fly out of MIV… Millville. So we have almost an hour.” He spread her legs and cupped her crotch. “So warm. I'll bet it's already moist. There best not be panties under here.”

While he fondled and kissed her, he began to whisper to her quietly. “Did you know that leaf springs were invented and first used in the 1800's? Before that, vehicles ride pretty rough, I'm told.” His hand moved up under her shirt and over her bra. “Seats with springs came a little later in the same century.”

He put him hand to her waist and played with the button of her jeans for a moment before popping it open. “If you wonder why I'd mention that, is because riding in a vehicle is much nicer these days. Especially…” He slowly began to unzip her pants, “Because if one person is on the seat and the other not, they kind of bounce differently.”

“It's what makes ‘road head’ so much fun! You never quite know what motion is coming, so everything is a little unexpected. Now I know you're familiar with the term, and I also know, personally, you've given it. But have you ever had it done? It's more difficult to do for a woman.”

Sam opened her jeans a bit. “Either way, you've never had it done by me. I like to think I have a decent technique.” He laughed very softly. “I owe you one in the back of a limo, so if you're interested, slip off your shoes and jeans for me.”

Casey seemed somewhat taken aback by his quick advances, but she didn't resist at all, returning his kisses with passion and leaning into his touch each time his placed his hands on her. "Is it that easy to tell?" she teased, not surprised that he could sense other sources of her excitement.

She shivered lightly when he placed his hand between his legs, reveling in the touch she'd been craving for what felt like years. She instinctively spread her legs forward to encourage him to keep touching her there. She chose not to confirm her lack of panties, deciding it would be better to let him see than to tell him.

"No... I've only given it," she responded, already starting to breathe heavier in anticipation. "You're awfully forward this morning, aren't you?" she teased while she kicked off her shoes, pretending that she wasn't loving every moment of it.

She lifted her rear from the seat to ease the removal of her jeans, deliberately moving slowly at first as she exposed her pantiless crotch. Her small landing strip and the area surrounding it appeared freshly shaven, as if it had been done the night previous in preparation for this very moment. As he had predicted, she was already moist, desperate for more of his attention.

She took her jeans fully off and set them aside, then spread her legs wide for him. "Please," she pleaded, yearning for the pleasure that she knew only he could provide to her. She placed one hand on each side of her, ready to grip the seat when necessary. "I need this so bad. You don't even know.”

Sam gave a little smile. “It's easy for me to tell. But then, that's what I do. It's one of the things I want to teach you.” He said, “And I know what I want, so why shouldn't I be forward about it? We're alone. Besides, it doesn't seem like you want me to be any other way right now.”

He watched her slip of her jeans and even in the dim light could make out the pattern she had shaved to his specifications. He inhaled deeply, and while he couldn't see that she was wet already, he could smell her excitement faintly. “Well, I get to be the first, eh? Well, I best make it special.”

“Remember,” He said as he slipped off the bench seat and maneuvered in between her legs. “You can beg, you can plead, you can scream and whine, you can definitely moan… and you will. But don't you dare cum unless you have my permission.” He kissed and licked her inner thigh while waiting as the vehicle stopped for a red light. “Yes, how very pretty.”

Sam put his hands on either side of her pussy, with his thumbs pointing down, opening her up to him. Then, as the car moved forward, he let the natural motion of acceleration push his mouth on to her. Instead of moving as he usually would, he kept his tongue flat across the top of her labia. The limo began to lumber along, and he kept his face pressed against her as it began to rock and bounce.

He had selected this route for a reason, the road was in some disrepair, and the lights would make for both short and long “sessions” as he had termed them in his head. The first ended fairly quickly, and as the vehicle slowed and physics pulled him back. He gave her an evil grin and pressed her legs wider.

“Hold on tight.” His hands slid under her legs and to the small of her back just as his face pressed back into her. This time, he let his tongue slip farther into her and he very slowly moved side to side while his head bobbed up and down. This would be a fairly long stretch, particularly if the lights cooperated. Each time the car rode over a hump at an intersection, he would speed his own movement slightly.

By the time they had covered the five miles to the bridge, he thought she was ready. They had never discussed how quickly she could cum, but no matter the answer, Sam wanted to know for himself. He knew where he was by the noise, and traffic slowed to a near stop to pay the toll.

“Now, you have 1200’ of grooved asphalt to show me how many times my hot little assistant can explode for me. Ready? You will never forget cumming across the Delaware!” He chuckled as he returned to her hot soaking crotch. He pointed his tongue and pushed it down on the hood of her clit just as the limousine began to rattle over the washboard like surface.

Casey closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths, trying to relax as he moved between our legs and started inching toward her wet slit. As the limo lurched forward and his tongue first pressed into her, she moaned out loudly, already deep in pleasure. "Yes... your tongue feels so good," she managed, her head resting back on the seat as she relished the feeling.

She narrowly resisted the urge to reach down and press his head back into her when the inertia of the car stopping pulled him away. "Please, don't stop. Keep going. I need more," she frantically begged before moaning even louder, each of his movements making her sink deeper into the seat, pressing her pussy into his face. She gripped the seat hard, the sensation engulfing her.

She yelped in surprised please with each sudden bump in the road, and her moans tightened into whimpers as she struggled to hold back from cumming. "Sam! Oh my... you're gonna... oh! I c-can't..." she struggled, eventually giving up on trying to form words and just holding on as best as she could, trying not to cum without his permission.

She breathed rapidly and heavily as he pulled away, her pussy now a wet mess desperate for release. Each moment he spent not pleasing her was agonizing, but it was worth it when she heard through her lustful haze that she was allowed to orgasm.

She practically came upon impact when his tongue touched her clit, the random movements from the grooves only amplifying the sensation as she came hard. She moaned loudly and her legs shook, her pussy leaking its juices all over.

Just as her breathing and her moans started to calm, she felt another wave of pleasure nearing, and within seconds she found herself practically screaming in pleasure, descending into a second orgasm. Her empty cunt convulsed and leaked juices while her whole body shook with overwhelming ecstasy. The second was more powerful and longer than the first, and by the time it ended, the shaking of the limo from the grooved asphalt had ended, and she was left a heavy-breathing, shaking, dripping wet mess.

She simply looked down at him in the dark, in sheer awe of what he had just made her experience. She had no words.

There were towels under the mini-sink, and he reached for a couple. He handed her a towel wearing a very satisfied smile. “Now, while you may want to bask in what I hope is the glow of sexual satisfaction, I want you to do something else.” He wiped his grinning face, which he has freshly shaved for the occasion. “We have a half hour or so, but pretend it's five minutes before we step out into a crowd.”

Sam grabbed his backpack and pulled a few items from it and set them by the sink. “C'mon now, chop chop. I think you enjoyed yourself, so if you want to do them more often, you'd best get good at this part.” He wet a brush and fixed his hair, added a bit of deodorant under his shirt, then washed off his face. “Your turn. Just kneel in front of the little sink like I did.”

Once they had freshened up, he sat across from her and smiled again. “You're awfully quiet! I'd say the cat got your tongue, but I pretty sure that was me!” He laughed and then glanced at his phone. “About seven minutes. Not too bad. If you liked that, and it seems like you might have… it can happen with more frequency if you can ‘recover’ quickly.”

“We have a few minutes before we get there.” He gave her a look with one eyebrow raised, “So tell me what you're thinking. It hasn't been very long since I walked into a conference room looking for a guy named Casey and found you instead.” He sat back and crossed his legs. He'd gotten the newest and most opulent jet when a smaller one would have done. Was he trying to impress her? Perhaps, but he was looking forward to taking her aboard.

Casey smiled back at him as she took the towel and wiped off her thighs and crotch, which had been made into a wet mess of pleasure. She felt as if she should say something to him, but had nothing to say. She occasionally shivered, experiencing aftershocks after her intense set of orgasms.

She knelt before the sink and cleaned herself up, fixing her hair and using his deodorant. She cleaned up her legs and pussy again to make sure they were properly clean, although she knew she would like be wet again quite soon, simply because he was with her.

Once she was satisfied, she retrieved her jeans and put them back on. It was a slight struggle to pull them over her ass, per usual, but she managed. She slipped her shoes back on and sat down, looking over and smiling at him. Even after what he'd just made her feel, she craved more, leaving her feeling an unbearable tension.

She felt her cheeks redden when he acknowledged her quietness, but she still didn't speak, instead just giggling quietly.

"What I'm thinking?" she finally said when prompted. "Right now, I'm just thinking about how amazing that felt..." she looked like she wanted to say more, but was mulling over whether to say it. "And all of the things that I want to do for you, and all of the things I want you to do to me." In truth, she couldn't think about anything else. She felt an urge to move closer and touch his body but decided not to act on it. "I'm still really horny," she added with a shameless grin, "really, really horny.”

“Well, I hoped that would be the case. Not only that you enjoyed it, but are still ready for even more.” He spread his legs slightly showing off the bulge in his sweats. “Of course, I've been ready for you for a while, too.” Sam tossed the towel in a small bin, then glanced out the window. “We are almost there, I believe. I hope I didn't turn your legs to noodles, you have to manage some steps.”

The limo paused at the security gate, then drove onto the tarmac. “The G700, you're going to love this.” Sam had done some modifications to the plane that made it very inviting to clients, he explained. "Well worth the costs. It makes a great employee perk, too!”

The car glided to a stop, and he wasted no time getting out. The trunk popped and he grabbed his bag and let her grab her own. After the trunk lid shut, he tapped it three times and the driver left to have the vehicle detailed. “Shall we?” He led her up the boarding stairs that would retract once they were aboard. “Two pilots are required, but for this flight, we didn't need an attendant.”

He led her to a pair of chairs in the front of the plane. They were leather and upholstered. “If you thought first class was nice, you haven't seen anything.” He grinned at her as the door sealed and they buckled in. “Two souls aboard and secure.” There were a couple of buttons on a console and Sam released the one he'd pressed to reach the cockpit. “There is no tray table, put your seat in whatever damn position you please, and prepare for takeoff!”

Casey made no attempt to hide what her eyes were fixed on as he widened his legs. "I want it so bad," she muttered quietly, seemingly to herself, although she didn't mind if he noticed. She licked her lips, fantasizing about him yet again.

She moved slowly as she exited the limo, her legs shaky, but not enough to where she couldn't walk. She marveled at the plane, "We have that all to ourselves?" This would be her first time flying private, and with all of the other excitement surrounding this trip, she'd hardly thought about it. Now all of the joy and excitement of flying private flooded over her at once. "Wow! I feel like a rich girl."

After managing her way up the stairs with her wobbly legs and her small suitcase in her arms, her mouth fell agape again. The interior of the plane was much nicer than any she had ever been on, and her reaction made that apparent. "This is amazing, Sam. Amazing," she said, head swiveling as she tried to take it all in.

She was relieved to make it to her chair and sit down again after her slight difficulties walking. "So comfortable," she commented while reclining in the chair. She leaned back and relaxed, but there was a certain tension inside of her that remained. That would be solved before too long, she thought to herself while she smiled at Sam.

The jet lighted off gently and climbed quickly. It wasn't the fastest, nor would it go the farthest. However, it was the pride of the fleet for its mere extravagance. They reached cruising altitude in a matter of minutes and the plane leveled off. The pilot came over the speaker to alert them to this and also that the weather would be good for the duration of the trip.

“Well, it's just us now,” He said to her "Why don't you get a little bit more comfortable? In fact, you could strip all that off. Just for me here and no one anywhere will see anything. He kicked off his shoes and put his socks inside them. Then he removed his sweatshirt and stood up. “There's a really nice big bed in the back of the plane, but I'm not taking you there if you have clothes on. What *are* you gonna do?”

Instead of watching her strip, he walked slowly towards the back of the plane. His thumb hooked into the waistband of his sweatpants and he inched them down as he went. He whistled something completely off key. “This is me teasing! You'd better acknowledge! Don't make me go all Sam Jackson on you. *Spanks on a plane!”* He laughed.

"Then I'm going get naked for you." Casey didn't waste any time, hastily shedding her shirt, then kicking off her shoes and standing. Her jeans dropped to her ankles and joined her pile of clothes on the ground, leaving her in nothing but her pink lace bra. She liked the way it looked on her, and had worn it anticipating that he would see it, but he wasn't looking. What to do?

She watched him strip as he moved to the back of the plane, biting her lip. "God," she muttered to herself, her legs shaking just from looking at him while standing. "This will be fun," she thought to herself. She decided not to acknowledge his joke, as deep down she thought that him spanking her sounded amazing.

She shook her head and tried to focus on the task at hand once again, and just then she got an idea. She strode up to him, walking quickly to make up the distance he had already covered, and placed a hand on his chest. Her eyes looked up into his, wide and pleading. "Sir," she quietly said, pressing her chest into him then pulling away in an attempt to draw his eyes to her bra. She shivered in anticipation, feeling his eyes on her. "Can you help me take it off?" She knew she was flying close to the sun with such a question, but she wanted it that way. One of her hands was already wandering toward his crotch.

“Well, of course I can.” He reached behind her and snapped his fingers and unclasped the lace bra. “Amazing the things you learn in a fraternity, eh?” Slipping index fingers under the shoulder straps, he slid them off leaving the brazier to hang on her pert breast for a moment before dropping to the floor. “As sexy as your lingerie may be… it covers something much more beautiful.”

His warm hands slid up her sides and his thumbs rode up under her breasts. Soon he fondled them with both hands and leaned in to kiss her fully on the mouth with his head tilted slightly to the right. Then he pulled back an inch. “What are doing with that hand, young lady?”

He put one arm around her and went from the of her back to a firm cheek. “I think you want to sleep with me. That's what I think.” He lifted her up on her toes. “Well, there is good news.” He set her back down on the floor and led her to the back of the aircraft. “There is a very nice bed back here.”

Sam brought her into the surprisingly large room, flipped on some music and found a channel he liked. “The bad news is I'm sleepy. So we aren't doing what you think on this flight. You can snuggle and touch whatever you like, but leave my knickers on. If you make me cum in my sleep, it might make me upset.” He winked at her.

Her breasts dropped slightly as he removed her bra and let it fall to the floor. Her breasts were slightly larger than they appeared when covered, but far from enormous. She liked to think they were the perfect size, and desperately hoped he agreed. Her pink nipples were as hard as they'd ever been. She watched his face, watching him get his first glimpse of her bare breasts.

She moaned into his mouth while he kissed her, aroused by his caressing of her sensitive breasts. "Uhhh..." she said after his question, letting out a giggle. Her hand fell to her side. "Exploring."

Everything about her demeanor, from the little smirk to the faux-innocent wide-eyed way she looked into his eyes indicated that she thought this was the moment where she finally got what she craved. She nodded excitedly as he spoke and practically skipped behind him into the bedroom. Then the letdown.

She gave him a light, playful punch in the shoulder. "You can't do this to me! Do you know how... how... how horny I am?" A poorly hidden smile as she acted upset indicated she wasn't being entirely serious, although she was somewhat frustrated.

"You're a cruel man. Cruel." She dramatically fell onto the bed, her breasts jiggling wildly as she did, making a pouty face as she looked up at him. In spite of the cloud of frustrated horniness dominating her brain, she appreciated the moment of being fully naked in front of the man she was infatuated with, knowing that he was looking at her body. It made her even wetter than she had been.

“Wow! Just… wow.” He was grinning. “I take you to a place you want to go, in luxury, mostly to have fun, but I'm cruel? Well,” He mocked a deep sigh, “I guess I better have them turn the plane around…” Or you can climb in this bed with me and do precisely what I want. You never know, you might just like it.”

He knew she would climb in with him. She would probably be a little wired from the bouncing bridge and excitement of the trip. But it had been a late night, the limousine had come early, and there was nothing like sleeping to the soft roar of the Rollls-Royce twin engines. Of course, having a warm woman snuggled in with you as close as she could get didn't hurt.

“Normally, I would take care of this rigid, warm, throbbing cock before trying to sleep, but that would further inflame you and I really need a nap.” He rolled over on his stomach. “You can sit on my ass and give me a nice backrub. I won't even mind if you get it all wrinkled like I was in the tub. I'm going to warn you, you best get some sleep.”

She giggled, enjoying his teasing. "Oh fine," she dramatically bemoaned, then matched his fake sigh with one of her own. "I guess I'll have to settle for sleeping next to you rather than with you," she paused and put an arm on his back. "On a bed in a private jet headed to a city I've wanted to go to for years," she added on, making fun of herself. She was disappointed she wouldn't get the relief that she needed, but willing to wait for it. It would pay off, she had to tell herself.

"I'll sleep," she affirmed, crawling into the bed. She was excited by what the warning likely meant, though still skeptical that he could wear her out. More than anything else, she was excited to find out.

She crawled up beside him, laying on her side so her soft breasts pressed lightly on his side like warm pillows. One arms ran along his back, rubbing his skin affectionately, soothingly. Her head laid right beside his, her eyes locked on his. It felt so romantic she had entirely forgotten that they weren't truly a couple. Why did he have to be married? She asked herself that every few seconds.

"Sweet dreams," she whispered in a sultry voice. "I hope that they are all about me. Every... single... one," she drawled, into his ear, then planted several kisses on his neck. She laid her head down, letting the both of them rest together for the first time.

He awoke when the wheels touched down at HWD. It was on the east side of the Bay Bridge, and he'd used it a few times prior, but it served his purposes well. He got up as soon as they came to a stop and tried to get up without waking her. There was an adequate shower that was stocked with toiletries. The water was instantly hot and Sam took advantage of a quick shower. He stepped out toweled off and put on fresh sweats, t-shirt and hoodie with an Eagles logo. “Got to represent in 49er land.”

“I'm going up to the front and open up. Otherwise I can't have coffee brought on. There's hot water, shower stuff, and the drawers are full of gray sweats like these. Did you really bring that outfit? The volleyball one? If you put that on underneath the sweats…” He turned and headed out the door to the front of the plane, letting the door close behind him.

Sam lowered the stairway, and a car was waiting, but not idling. The driver got out and they spoke briefly. The airport would bring breakfast up, the directions would be in the navigation system, and they would be ready to go by 9:00, leaving time for a leisurely breakfast. He returned to the cabin and sat at one of the chairs where they would eat and waited on her.

Casey awoke slowly, starting when he left her. As she got her bearings and remembered where she was, she let out a discontented sigh that she was alone in the bed. She inferred he was in the shower, and laid alone while waiting for him.

She felt herself lighten up when he strode out, her craving for him clearly not having worn off with the rest. She seemed to still have heavy eyes from her recent waking, and she said nothing to him, just lightly smiling. She stood and stretched as he turned, then collected her volleyball outfit plus an extra shirt from her suitcase, and headed to the shower.

She took a brisk and efficient shower, steaming the room by using scorching hot water. Normally, a shower of that variety felt cathartic to her, but the tension she felt today only had one solution.

After finishing her shower, she briefly checked herself out in the mirror, running her hands along the smooth skin of her lithe figure. "He's so lucky," she whispered to herself, then chuckled. She slipped into her volleyball uniform, then covered it with gray sweats and a plain black long-sleeved shirt. She wrapped her hair up in a towel to aid its drying and stepped out of the bathroom.

She strolled over to where he was waiting and sat across from him. It felt odd to be in his presence without being in a cute outfit and having her hair fixed, but it was a signal of her trust to let him see her like this. "Did you sleep good? I did. You make for a great body pillow," she charmingly remarked, placing a hand on his knee.

“Quite well. You must be a ‘cool’ sleeper. I'm told I put off heat like a furnace, but you nestled in tight. “They'll bring an assortment of foods, eggs and ham, or fresh fruits, probably a pastry or two.” He explained. Then he produced a small box, no bigger than a common lighter, but square and matte black. “I have a little present for you.” He opened it in front of her and it held two small devices. “This is going to feel very strange at first, and sometimes you have to tune things out, but these go in your ears.”

“A company called earHero made these for the spooks. Naturally we have them now. Put them in. They're virtually invisible, and they with hear what is around you, and also wherever I go. Mine are in already. Watch!” He got up and skipped down steps to the car where the driver waited. He asked him the weather forecast and recorded. “Crazy, huh? It can lower the noise and do other cool stuff.”

He knew she'd get the hang of it, but she hadn't said a word in his ear. Before they could say much more, breakfast arrived, and he thought it all smelled delicious. “Just eat whatever you like. But I am going to have some bacon and eggs!” He lifted the silver covers from the plates and filled his plate. “Ask questions, now's the time.”

Interest was evident is Casey's face when she saw the tiny earpieces. She took her hair out of the towel and set it aside, brushed back her still-damp, wavy hair, and fit the devices into each of her ears. She squinted, trying to acclimate to the sensation of them being in her ears. Questions flooded her head, but she let them linger there while he showed off the device's function.

She quietly clapped her hands together when their breakfast arrived, eager to eat. She filled up her plate with eggs, an array of fruits, and a danish. The nap had made her hungry, so she didn't waste time digging into her food, occasionally making comments about how good it was.

She felt almost relieved when he welcomed questions. She had no shortage of them. "What are we using these for? I understand the general purpose, but why specifically for today?" She took a few more bites of eggs before asking another. "And... do you get used to how it feels? It's kinda weird.”

“Well,” Sam spoke in short clips when his mouth wasn't full. “Aside from getting used to dual, or multiple audio inputs, there's a skill to learn.” He plucked a piece of crisp bacon from his plate. “You can't just babble on to a special friend in your head. People will think you mad. It's an art to talking to others without anyone catching on. But I think you'll catch on quick.”

He got up as he took the napkin off his lap. “You can grab coffee to go if you want. I think I'm done.” He headed off the plane, but said over his shoulder, “I want a sneak peek at that uni, but the drive is on half an hour.”

The car pulled up at a brick plaza a few minutes minutes minutes after they got in. Sam open his door winked at her and jumped out. A sign read Haas Pavillion and the walk led to a large white building. “This is Berkeley. I thought about coming here. It's an beautiful campus.” They walked the bricks to the severely sets of doos. Sam opened one and held it for her.

The distinctive sounds of sports echoed in the building. “Well, you wanted to get a practice in, right?” He started down the steps past the empty seats to the gym floor. “Walk away down the sideline. Get used to hearing me. Try and say something to me without drawing attention.”

He turned left where a young, tall and dark skinned woman stood with a clipboard. “Okay, Casey, watch how it's done.” Then, “Hello, you must be Coach Andreno,” Bjt she insisted on just Alyssa. “Thanks, I'm Sam, someone told you I was coming?”

She nodded, disapprovingly, and make it clear it was unusual. But since it's a JV practice, it would be fine. “She has a uniform on, so please, just work her out and see what she's got. It's kind of a dream, I think, but she obviously doesn't need an athletic schollie…”

She furled her brow as they stepped out of the car, puzzled as to why they were there. She considered asking, but decided not to. All at once, his words, the sound of volleyball, the location, all came together and the realization washed over her. She went pale.

She lost her sweatpants and overshirt, revealing her navy blue volleyball uniform. Her uniform was dark blue and theirs were all either yellow or white. That's okay, she thought. She was used to playing libero anyway.

The players looked at her, as confused as she had been when they had first entered the building. Casey was embarrassed. She could feel her cheeks burning as all of the people who actually belonged at the practice stared at her. It could've been worse-- she was about their age, and still thought herself relatively good at the sport. But they were actually on the team, and they were all significantly taller than her.

One asked what she was doing there. "Well," she began with a nervous sigh, unsure of the best way to explain it. "I lost a bet with my asshole boss, and I think he's trying to embarrass me." She had to partially lie, but the second part was clearly meant for Sam to hear.

A practice match began, and she played libero as she'd expected. The level of play was much higher than that of her rec league, and she made several early mistakes, and failed to receive an easy serve. The others were kind and didn't seem frustrated with her, but she wasn't concerned about what they thought, really. At least not as much as she cared about what Sam thought. She grimaced, wishing he wasn't watching.

“Embarrass you?! Tsk. How could I even do that? I know you've got the chops for this.” Sam had taken a seat a row up from the floor. “Of course, now you told the players one thing and the assistant coach was told another.” He tried not to laugh, knowing how it sounds in the earpieces. “That's going to be an interesting locker room.”

“You were right about one thing, I sure do like your ass in that uniform. C'mon, put you fingers in it and snap it on your ass like they do in the Olympics.” The coach was looking at him and started to wander over. “I think she's coming to offer you a full ride! By the way, your tits look plenty nice, too. Hold on, let me talk to coach then I'll talk about you being all sweaty.”

The coach tried to get more information out of him, but he simply asked for an honest assessment. Alyssa explained were Casey a blink quicker or a few inches taller, she could see a walk on possibility. If she really wanted to play, the JUCO route would be best. She needed more coaching. “Well, thank you, Coach. Not only for the advice, but for letting her get in some work.”

“Yes indeed,” He said quietly as she moved away. “I don't know. I kind of like your height. It seems perfect when you're on your knees. How about you? Do you think you need extra inches?” He was grinning. “You're breathing heavy. Is it that game or my game doing it?”

She shook her head, trying her best to stay focused on the game with him in her ear. The ball came her way and she had to dive forward to make a difficult dig that impressed all of the other girls. She stood and, as she regrouped, slipped two fingers inside her shorts, then made the fabric smack against the bare skin of her rear. "Hope you're happy," she quietly muttered when she felt that no one would hear.

Now, she was acutely aware of his gaze fixed on her. She liked it, and it was obvious why she'd brought the outfit for him. The way that her ass leaked out of the tight shorts. She was sure that he was looking at it, but she couldn't check. In the midst of her little daydream, the ball suddenly barreled toward her, but she wasn't prepared, and she missed another easy dig. She opted to run after the ball, and once she had gotten the ball and was far from the other girls, she spoke to him. "You asshole. I can't focus."

She heard the coach in her ear, which amused her enough for her to crack a little grin. Being even close to D1 walk-on quality when she'd only played in a rec league in the last three years was quite satisfactory, as far as she was concerned.

Although she hadn't noticed it until he'd mentioned it, she was breathing a lot heavier. "You're not helping, I'll say that," she quietly said while the other girls were distracted. That was an understatement, though. She felt butterflies in her stomach, and she'd gotten wet just from his words, and it was starting to form a small stain on her dark blue shorts. Then she missed the ball again.

“Whups! I think that one was yours, sweetie.” He laughed a bit, even though he tried to suppress it. “Yes, you need more coaching. Should I help with that? Next time I have you begging to cum, I'll give you some tips, how's that? You can say something like, ‘I only *ever* want to release upon *your* command. How's that sound?” He was grinning.

“Speaking of asshole. Do you like yours touched a little? I know I do. It's very *very* hot.” He hummed softly. “You know, I never did ask how long this practice would last. Hope you have plenty of stamina.” Sam wished he'd brought something to drink.

“Oh, by the way, do your best not to eat with these in. It sounds like a cow is in the room. Filter issue. Speaking of eating, where would you like to be eaten tonight… I mean, where would you prefer to dine?” The ball high arc from the opposing side. “Overhand dig, baby. Tips up!”

She rolled her eyes and tried her best to stay focused on the game, but whether she accepted it or not, he was having a tremendous effect on her playing ability. With each step she took, she could feel how drenched the space between her legs was becoming. "Focus," she muttered to herself, as if it would really help.

"Yeah, a little," Casey replied tightly to his query, tense as she watched the ball fly about, prepared if it were to come to her. It did not, and she eased up while the ball was retrieved, taking a few steps back so she could speak. "You already said you want to... uh, do anal with me, didn't you?" she asked with a tense tone, as if such a thing was still somewhat taboo to her.

The ball came her way high over her head. She shifted slightly to get it position, put her hands up, and firmly hit the ball. It wasn't as graceful as she would have liked, but it worked, and that was all she could ask for in her current condition. She watched as her teammate set the ball, and another successfully spiked it over the net. She took a deep breath, trying to relax.

"Ummm... I don't know. You know this city a lot better than I do." She leaned forward, inadvertently positioning herself in a way that exposed the growing stain on her shorts to him. "I think I want something light, though. Maybe a salad. So you don't have to worry about upsetting my stomach later." She would've winked if she was facing him.

“Oh yes, you try and focus while I talk about your ass. I *do* want you to anal. Perhaps I can show you how it can be *really* good. First, I get you just insane horny. Much wetter than that little patch you have right now. Then, I have you…” A whistle blew and the coach called the team in. “Might want to put on your sweatpants!”

He pondered the meaning of eating light. “We could go to Boudin. That's kind of light, I suppose. Why would I upset your tummy, sweetie?” The team began to break up and head for the locker room. A couple waved to Casey as they left. “Looks like the coach wants to have a word.” Sam stood and waited. He expected her to say about the same as she'd told him.

“Well, I hope you had fun. It sured looked like a workout from here. You might need a good hot shower, in fact.” He was talking to her at the same time as coach to get her used to hearing two people at once. “If you shower with me, certain parts will come out really clean from all the attention.” He smiled to himself thinking about it.

She sighed in relief, thankful that the practice was finally coming to an end. She wasn't sure she could take any more of his dirty talk without losing her mind. Feeling brave, she decided not to put her sweatpants on before coming into the team huddle, instead just holding her hands together over her crotch and hoping nobody would suspect anything.

The coach gave specific advice and instructions to some of the players, then congratulated everyone on a productive practice and dismissed them. Casey said her goodbyes to a few of her teammates, and then retrieved her clothes as the coach approached her, and gave her a speech similar to the one she'd given Sam, but with a softer choice of words. She squinted as she tried to listen to both people at once, but seemed to do well enough. "Okay, thank you. Have a nice day, Coach. Thanks again," she said as she walked away, and toward Sam.

"A shower sounds nice," she replied once the coach was out of earshot. As she approached Sam, her movement was somewhere between a typical walk and a waddle, given her condition. Stray beads of sweat dripped from her face, her hair slightly damp. "Well, is that everything you dreamed it would be? I tried to put on a show for you," she said with a small grin as she neared him.

“Well, I don't know about your thoughts, but the coach seems very nice. Especially since she probably got voluntold to do this. You looked like you were holding your own, and looked pretty hot doing it.” He grinned back at her. “But you might have to air dry and wait a minute on the shower. We have a stop to make.”

They headed back the way they came, and it was cool even though it was the middle of the day. Bay Area weather, Sam thought, but at least it was sunny. “Of course I enjoyed it. Did *you* enjoy it. I know you like showing off. You like showing off for me, in fact. I can tell.” They reached the car and he opened the door for her.

“Okay, behave yourself,” Sam said, then lowered partition glass. “The shop via the hotel. No need to stop at the hotel, just drive past it.” He put the divider back up. “It's maybe a half hour. We'll be crossing the Bay Bridge.” The traffic moved at a decent clip, and soon they were approaching their hotel.

“Okay, this is where we'll be staying.” He put the divider down again. “Watch where we're going. Learn the route. There are lots of cities, and each one has a route.” They only went a few blocks and made two turns, the last into an alley. “C'mon, we're here. This cigar shop has been here 150 years, and it's a drop.”

They entered to the smell of tobacco, leather, and wood polish. “Okay, this room is open 24 hours, and as you can see, it has private humidor with punch key locks. I gave you a paper with two numbers. The first one is the box number and code. Find it and open it, you can pull the envelope out and look at it, but then put it back without opening it.”

Casey beamed at him, too tired after the practice to try to hide her blushing. "Of course I enjoyed it. I love feeling your eyes on me, in places they shouldn't be..." she stared off into space, briefly daydreaming about it. "I could've played better if I wasn't distracted thinking about that."

She got back into her sweatpants and overshirt once she cooled off a bit, and spent most of the ride looking out the window, paying attention to the way that they were going, as he instructed. Dirty thoughts about Sam inevitably wandered into her mind, but she tried her best to set them aside, saving them for later.

A puzzled expression was cast across her face as they stopped at the cigar shop. Fumes of tobacco bombarded her nose upon entry, and she had to hold back an instinctive cough. As much as she wished she could hide her distaste for the scent, she knew he would notice, and just hoped he wouldn't ridicule her.

She furrowed her eyebrows at him, unsure what the purpose of this stop was if she wasn't to look at the envelope, but regardless she started to search for the lock with the right number. She had properly seared the numbers into her memory, and had no difficulty putting the code in once she found the right one. She triumphantly held up the envelope to show him, looked at either side of it, and put it back in the box and closed it. "What now? Was that really all?" she asked, squinting at him, still questioning the necessity of this trip.

“Yeah, that's all. Smart off and I'll turn you over my knee and have you breathing hard and heavy in this musty hole.” He faked a tough look. “All your holding is a driver's license, passport, and $5,000 in cash. All the movie crap about ‘go bags’ aside, it gets you out of town. That's all.”

He arched an eyebrow, “This work is rarely dangerous, but it pays to be prepared. If you open that, even if you put it back, inquiries would be made. Take it and someone would be looking for you.” He chuckled. “It would be fun to know what the docs named you.” He took the envelope from her and replaced it.

“Your face, but those clever fucks are always up to some chicanery mixed with humor. Maybe you're Karen Carpenter Smith this go around. They know you might respond some way to Casey, so they used the initials. It would be just like those guys.” Sam reached out and took her by the arm. There were two overstuffed brown leather chairs in the small room. “C'mere.”

He sat softly in the chair and spread his legs somewhat. “Straddle me.” He patted his thigh just below the bulge in his sweats. “I know you want to, but even if you didn't… I'd make you. You're going to grind, too. It's going to make you a horny little girl.”

“You're going to beg to kiss me, too.” He looked into her face. “You're going to tell what you want. In the filthiest ways. Then tell me why you want it.” Sam gave her a slow wink. “If I like what I hear from you, Casey, my sweet little assistant…”

“I might take you to the hotel and give it to you.” He said softly.

Although startled by the sudden shift, Casey didn't hesitate to comply, swiftly climbing onto the chair, one knee on either side of his lap. She lowered herself onto his lap, perking up and giggling when she felt his bulge against her sensitive vulva through their clothes. She smiled at him for a short moment before suddenly looking away, the heat in her cheeks too much for her.

Obediently, she started to slowly roll her hips, rubbing her crotch against his. Even through layers of clothing, the sensation was enough to make her quietly moan. She kept her pace for a while, simply enjoying the sensation while she rested her chin on his left shoulder.

After basking in the pleasing yet frustrating experience without interruption for about a minute, she pulled back and looked at him again. "Please let me kiss you, sir. I want to feel your tongue all over my mouth. Please!" she begged, her voice quiet but adamant.

She kept up her rhythm a while longer, occasionally humming and groaning while she soaked in the feeling. She could feel herself growing even wetter than she'd been during the volleyball practice, soaking her uniform underneath. "I wish that you would pick me up while I'm only wearing the uniform, carry me to bed, throw me down, and bend me over," she whispered in his ear. The words essentially spilled out of her, and likely would've come out with or without his command. "Then tear the uniform off me like a wild animal, and pound my brains out from behind.”

Her pace grew faster while she conjured up the image in her head. Her eyes were shut, and she wore a lustful smile. "I dream all the time about you just treating me like you own me, like I'm a complete slut meant for you to use. Talking down to me, calling me names..." She could hardly bear to look him in the eyes after saying something so filthy, but she managed it, her cheeks entirely red. "And I'm tired of imagining. I want to know what it would feel like to have your cock inside of me. I want to moan beneath you and know that my pussy is completely filled with you." She shuddered and her whole body convulsed slightly as the last words left her mouth.

"I want you to slap me and pull my hair and spit on me, so I feel small, like I'm nothing but your slutty little assistant." She was thrusting her hips along his crotch at rapid pace now, her breaths much heavier than when she started. Her wetness began to leak through her uniform on to the sweats. "And I want you to fuck me in every single position, so I never have to imagine how it would feel to take your cock 'this way' or 'that way.' I want you to leave me exhausted by the end. A shaking, exhausted mess. So I can feel just how much power you have over me." She held her fast pace, hanging her head back slightly in enjoyment, her begging eyes meeting his now that she'd laid out her dream for him. "Will you do that to me, sir?”

“Yes.”

She felt so good moving on his lap, he said it quietly and let his eyes close while he listened to her speak so wantonly about her desire for him. He could take it for a short time, and he couldn't remember the last time he'd cum while clothed. “I like the way you feel.” He pulled her toward him. It slowed her enough to regain himself. There may be a time when he could be vulnerable with her, but not now.

For now he needed to project power. “If you want me to have your mouth, I'll take it.” He filled his hand with her hair and brought her mouth to his. The kiss was savage with passion, but tempered by his desire to control her every move. His tongue explored her, taking in the feel and ttaste of her. Before he released her and slipped away, he nipped her lip. It wouldn't draw blood, but it would swell just a little.

“That's my mouth. I'm going to kiss you like that. I'm going to kiss you many times in many different ways. Until you know without any doubt, that mouth belongs to me.” He locked eyes with her. “Do you believe me? Because you should be careful when you beg. As I give you what you desire, I'm going to take every bit of you for myself.”

“I want mold you into the perfect little pet. Loyal, sweet, and loving to me, but a for fierce and dangerous to the rest of the world.” Then he said quietly, “So you be careful. Little office slut is plenty of fun, but I have more planned for you. I see you some day in a big office in charge of things… powerful. But when I walk in and close the door, you slip to your knees. Are you sure you can handle that?”

“Will you still be calling me ‘sir’? Maybe it will be any even better title, but it's good for now. No one will bat an eye if they overhear it.” He pulled her close and put her face to his shoulder. “But we'll know.” He stood and lifted her with him and held her for a moment. “Perhaps we should go to the hotel.”

His kiss made her groan into his mouth as he took what was his. Her hands wandered about him, one resting on his neck while the other felt up the muscles of his arm. The little bite elicited a small hitch in her breath, but nothing more. "I believe you, sir. You own my little mouth," she replied obediently, meeting his eyes, her own filled with pure lust. As he'd said, the grinding had made her incredibly horny.

"I can handle that, sir. I know my place. I'll always belong to you." She sounded like she meant it, and she did. She'd already noticed that her demeanor around others was much different than that around him. She acted confident and in-charge around most, but allowed him to do with her as he pleased, essentially.

She didn't feel just how wet she'd gotten until he lifted her. It felt as if she was completely soaked, and she looked down to see that her arousal had seeped through the uniform entirely, and a dark patch had formed on her sweatpants. As she looked into his eyes, her mind was nothing but an encompassing haze of desire. She could barely think, and the thoughts she had were strictly about being intimate with him. She was sure of it: she'd never been so horny in her entire life.

"Can we hurry?" she asked, voice slightly shaky. "I need it, sir." She hoped he wouldn't make her walk, already feeling them wobble before she had to put any weight on them. More than anything, though, she just wanted to get into their hotel room and enjoy herself.

“Just know your place with me. I will absolutely teach you how to never be put ‘in your place’ by anyone other than me.” He kept his arm around her and guided her to his side. No one knew him here, and chatty drivers got pink slips. “Do you need me to carry you, princess?”

He chuckled. “Hurry? Are you going to melt into a puddle right on the floor here? I think we'd have to pay the cleaning bill!” He started them towards the door. “Hurry? I have no intention of doing such a thing. Now, we can go to the hotel directly, sure. After that, I promise nothing. If I'm honestly going to make a lover of my assistant, I'm not going to waste an opportunity.”

“You may believe you're a good lover, and we shall see. But as good as this is about to be, I want to turn you into the woman every man wants to possess, but I am the only one who does…” She definitely has the tools Sam thought. The years it could take to teach her everything could be incredible, and an excellent way to appease his mind. “Lessons could be very entertaining and enjoyable. What do you think?”

They got through the door, and once they navigated the steps, it was just a sidewalk between them and the door. This driver had no idea Sam preferred to open his door. “Hop in there, sweetie.” Then to the driver. “Hotel, rear entrance, by a direct route.” He got in and the door closed. “Well, I can't get us there any faster than that.”

Casey leaned heavily against him, her arm wrapped around his back, relying on him to help her faulty legs make it into the car. "That's what it feels like," she said, almost whimpering, her body shaking lightly as together they headed for the exit. She knew it was necessary, but it was agonizing to wait. Her body wanted him right now.

"Lessons. Yeah," she breathily replied, clearly struggling to focus on anything but the thoughts dominating her mind. So long as 'lessons' would be an excuse to be with him, she wanted them. "I've never been this horny in my life, sir."

She practically collapsed into the car when they finally made it, and laid against him once he got in behind her. "This is okay, right?" she asked while she nestled against him. She closed her eyes and took deep breaths, somewhat embarrassed by how desperate and needy she was acting, but she couldn't manage to calm herself down. There was only one thing that could resolve the tension inside of her that built with each moment. "I'm gonna be so good for you, sir.”

“Yes. I think you'll enjoy, well, most of the lessons.” He started to run his hands on her body. “This is just fine, Casey, lay on me all you want. The real question is how much of this can you handle?” His hands slid across the sides of her breasts, then to her stomach and thighs. “Have you felt like this before?”

The motion of the car and their proximity gave the same kind of friction, even though it wasn't directly on the most sensitive parts. Yet, all of his nerve endings felt alive. He hoped she was feeling it as well. First, he wanted to possess her body, then her mind, which would lead to her heart. It wasn't as if he just came to realize this, but he'd admitted it to himself.

“You're going to be good?” He quizzed. “I think you'll be both. Very bad and very good.” The car turned the last corner into an alley and stopped in front of a double door. It was grand like the front entrance, but it was clean and tidy. There were two elevators, one for service, and one for private guests. Sam grabbed his bag from the opening trunk and nodded for her to do the same.

“It's always nice to have the special service.” The man on duty knew Sam and handed him key cards with a nod. He passed one to Casey. “Going up?” He pressed the button and soon the doors opened into a foyer that stepped down into a large living area. “There are two suites on the left, on the right a small conference room. “I'm going to take a quick shower. You can freshen up and meet me out on the balcony in, say, five minutes?”

Casey trembled as he toyed with her, desperate for a release she knew she would have to wait for. She found it agonizing, as indicated by her small whimpers and squirms. "Sam," she whined, unsure she could take any more. "I've never felt it this much, no. I need you," she panted, her voice quivering through uneven breaths.

After what felt like an eternity, she finally felt the car come to a final stop, and looked out to see the hotel through the window. She stumbled out of the car on unsteady legs as she went to retrieve her suitcase. She followed him to the elevator, trying to act casual while breathing heavily, hoping the now-enormous wet stain on her pants wasn't as noticeable as she thought.

"Yes sir," she confirmed as they parted, her head swiveling about, taking it all in, evidently not accustomed to such luxury. Once her initial amazement wore off, she found a mirror. She instinctively fixed her hair, now with visual proof that she looked like the desperate mess that she felt she was. "Not long now," she muttered to herself while she fixed up until she was satisfied with her appearance, then shed her outerwear, leaving her in nothing but her volleyball uniform, just like she wanted.

She found her way out to the balcony and patiently waited for him, leaning on the railing as she looked out, for the first time getting to enjoy the San Francisco cityscape. She let her jaw drop slightly, astonished by the beauty of the city. Even in such a personal moment, though, she anticipated his arrival, and had her back arched to display her round ass. She tried to focus on the city around her, but could only think dirty thoughts about Sam, wondering how it would feel to finally have him. She craved the moment where she heard his footsteps or his voice. The moment where the time she'd dreamed and daydreamed of for days straight finally began.

Sam finished and was drying off. His erection hadn't eroded in the slightest. “You relax there.” He smiled and felt like he was a young buck about to get lucky. He pulled one of the terrycloth robes from the closet and slipped it on. He tied the knot loosely, gave himself a look in the mirror, and stepped out of the bathroom.

He saw her through one of the floor to ceiling windows as he headed for the balcony door. “Yes, that is a very fine ass. Seems to be in a perfect position as well.” He was quiet as he was barefoot, and the door was open, so he slipped out unnoticed. He sat quietly in a chair behind her. “I must say, it *is* quite a view…”

“I think I have an idea. Instead of me tearing off that cute little outfit, I want you to strip out of it. But, before you begin, go and bend over that center column beside the rail. Very shortly, I'm going to take you from behind with this.” He opened the robe and let it fall to his sides. He was ridged with desire for her and every vein bulged.

“Now, the shorter rail will give me great leverage and I'll likely be able to just pile drive into you. The other won't give me quite the same angle, but when you moan and scream, no one will see you. Over the rail? This entire side of the hotel will know exactly who is getting fucked up here.”

“Now. Very, very…very slowly, strip for me. Take that little thing off that sporty little body of yours and watch my cock enjoy every second. Once you get my nod. You make your choice and position yourself. I know how much you want it. You can't hide it. But if you hurry too fast to get it, I'll spank you instead and make you wait. We don't want that, do we?”

Casey bent over the column when he ordered it, widening her legs to give him a prime view of her ass and her soaked crotch. Her legs trembled with excitement as she looked down at the streets, seeing cars and people move by but thinking about nothing outside of her own desires, especially how badly she wanted her insides invaded by his member.

Upon his next order, she turned to him and ran her hands along her body, gradually feeling down the cloth of her uniform. She paused the movement to grope her breasts, deliberately squeezing her fingers around her bust, index fingers each rubbing her hard nipples that were visible through the tight clothing. She was careful not to move any part of her body too quickly, desperate not to delay her reward.

Shifting her hips to her left slowly, her hands finally reached her waistband, at which point she hooked her fingers beneath and then pulled the bottom of her shirt up, exposing her midriff. Her eyes were fixed firmly on his cock, watching each throb of enjoyment. Her mind wandered while she strolled through her stripping. She briefly pondered which way to bend over for him, but it wasn't much of a choice in her current state of mind.

Her shirt rose to her breasts, and inch by inch she peeled more of the uniform from her skin, holding still for a moment just before her breasts would pop out from beneath, then pulling up slightly, letting her round breasts fall free, bouncing a few times before settling, her aroused nipples greeting him.

Once her top was finally off and discarded behind her, her hands found their way to her waistband once again. Her hips swayed slightly, seductively, as she pulled her shorts down. As she gradually proceeded, her shorts briefly stuck to her wet crotch before suddenly snapping away, exposing her soaked, needy pussy. She spread her legs slightly and let her shorts slip down her legs at an easy pace. Once they were around her ankles, she stepped out of them.

Now it was time for her choice, though she'd made up her mind rather quickly after his initial description of her options-- right now, she didn't care who saw, only how it felt. She turned her back after one last look at his excited cock, still taking her time, weary not to receive spanks rather than thrusts. She bent over the shorter rail, arching her back high, presenting her innocent little asshole and her desperately dripping slit, practically begging to be used, to him.

He watched her test the pillar, but he thought he already knew which she would choose. She sauntered over and began to touch her breasts through the uniform. Though he'd seen them before, he was amazed at how much he wanted them bared in front of him. “I see you looking at my cock. I know how much you want it. Can you tell how much it wants to be inside you?”

She didn't speak, the top was gone and she was swaying as she started on the shorts. “Look at how wet you are, my little slut. I do believe you are ready for me.” She turned a slowly walked to the short rail as he thought, and hoped, she would. “I like it, you horny little beast! You don't care if the whole city hears you. Good girl.”

She was arched and ready for him, and he let the robe fall to the floor and positioned himself behind her. “I can feel you quivering. Your breath is already raspy. I believe you are ready for me.” He took one of he hips in his left hand and guided his cock with the other. He placed the tip on her drenched lips and teased it up and down. “You didn't think you were getting it all at once, did you?”

He slipped inside her just enough to let go and hold both of her hip to pin her to the rail. “I know you want to push back, too. No no no. They won't only her your moans and cries, oh no, I want you to beg. Everyone is about to hear how much you want to feel me.” He slid a little farther into her soft folds, then back out, teasing. “Ever hear the term, ‘shout it from the rooftop?’ You're about to let everyone know *exactly* what that hot tight little cunt wants.” He whispered to her.

“That's right, I can do this all night.” Knowing full well it was a lie. “C'mon tell them. Tell them what you want.” He was also teasing himself, but he could feel her breathing and shaking. He was determined to take any dignity from her when it came to him. He wanted all of her, to possess her. She would break. “Beg for it…”

She groaned as he teased her, then gasping when she felt the very tip of his cock part her lips. Trembling, she tightly tensed around his head and leaked arousal all over it. She needed more. In spite of his strong hands pinning her in place, she still tried to push her hips back and welcome more of his member into her, to no avail. She whimpered, desperate for more.

"Please, sir!" she nearly screamed, giving him what he wanted, unable to bring herself to care who heard in the moment. She was conscious that she would likely be embarrassed over this later, but all that mattered was the aching feeling between her legs. The shame could wait for later. "I need that whole cock inside me. I need it so bad, sir," she shouted as her voice cracked repeatedly, desperation evident. "And then I want you to fuck me so hard I can't think anymore. I want you to pound my little pussy. Please!"

"Use me like I'm your toy, sir. I just want you to use me. Like I belong to you. Make me belong to you. I want it so bad," she spat out loudly in rapid succession, unveiling her desires to him and anyone who wanted to listen. Her arousal leaked down her legs now, entire body needy for him. She gripped the rail below her with both hands, bracing for impact. "Show the world how much of a dirty fucking slut I am, please!”

He breathed in deeply, both the scent of her sex, buy the reek of her desperation. She'd given everything, even her dignity, to be with him. It was enough, she wanted the woman as much as she wanted to be taken. His nostrils flared, then as he breathed out slowly, he entered her. “You feel good, my little slut.” His words turned into a groan as he took his time to completely fill her with his cock.

“Is this what you want, Casey? To feel me in you. Taking you?” He let out another breath and slid deeper. He was moving slow, but was almost fully buried in her soaking wet pussy. “Yes, taking what I want. You can let the world know, alright, that you're *my* toy. *My* dirty fucking slut!” Then he gave one more hard thrust and her hot cunt swallowed all of him. He waited. “Mmmm… Let me just hold this right here a moment. I can feel you pulsing around me. You feel so good.”

He wrapped a hand in her hair and pulled her toward him, arching her back. Then still holding her hip with one hand, he ground into her before sliding halfway out of her. “My…” He pounded back in, “Toy.” Sam rocked back and almost pulled his shaft completely free, then pinned her to the railing again.

“Tell me more. Do you like it? Do you want it slammed into that sloppy cunt again and again? Because I just love hearing you beg. Everyone for miles already knows you're a little slut. Tell them all what I'm doing to you. I know you want to explode all over my cock, too.” He slid back, then slowly filled her again. “Are you going to beg to cum, too? You'd better…”

Her eyes fell shut and she let out a long, sustained moan of pleasure as he slowly filled her. Her body convulsed, her walls clamping around him. "This is... it's... what I want. It's so good!" she cried out, already overwhelmed with pleasure. The sensation of having her boss fully inside her was one that she'd dreamed of since she'd gotten the job, but she'd never imagined it feeling quite as good as it did. It was an all-encompassing sort of pleasure that completely satisfied her in a way nothing else truly ever had.

She yelped at the harsh thrust, her ass reverberating while he pulled her back by her hair. "It feels... s-so good, sir," she managed through heavy breaths, clearly struggling to manage her pleasure. "I love being your dirty slut... it feels so... so wrong, but... amazing," she spat out, again trying to push back against him as he pulled away, though she knew it was futile.

She didn't hesitate to beg for more, and loudly at that. "I want to feel you do that over and over, sir. And I want you to just... pile drive me so hard you almost feel bad... fast. Over and over. I want it like that." She groaned as she felt her walls welcome his size once again. Her body tensed, fighting the urge to cum right then. "The slow feels like torture. Just use me. Please!" Any sense of shame she had normally had entirely left her, now sharing her desires with the entire hotel.

"It's gonna make me cum fast though. Is that okay daddy?" she asked, the last word slipping out like an instinct, one she didn't even think about. It didn't seem she realized what she'd said, either.

He liked it. He was never quite sure, having a daughter of his own, how it would feel to be called “daddy” in an erotic setting. That, the “sir”, the intense response she gave him, it was a heady feeling. Sam couldn't remember a time when someone wanted him this way. He began thrusting with long powerful strokes.

Though there wasn't a chance he was going to last much longer, he said, “You want to cum, little girl? I can sure feel you tighten on my dick. You like when I'm filthy with you, don't you?” He felt a clench, “That sopping wet cunt is also sweet and tight.” His pounding became harder, he knew a climax wasn't far off.

“If you want to cum, you have one more thing to do, slut. Can you keep your head while losing your mind? God, you better get this right. I want to feel you get off with me. Together.” He tried to catch his breath and paused his motion, on the edge, deep inside her. “The last set of numbers. Recite them in order. One for each time I enter you.” He slid out of her, hoping she would remember.