As Marcie typed away at her computer, she could hear the muffled thumps, laughter, and moaning coming from the sales floor down the hall. She hoped that Samson was doing all right. She also hoped that Samson didn't give in immediately to the peer pressure. Marcie was doing her best to type a memo, but it wasn't taking. She was too distracted by all that was going on.
Her desk was situated in the antechamber just outside of Gordon's office. From her position, she could see her boss through the glass window that separated them. What's more, she could feel his eyes on her. When she snuck glances behind her, she could tell her boss was in a sorry state. The air conditioner was failing to keep Gordon from sweating through his shirt as he sat at his large executive desk. His eyes wandered between his computer screen, the locked door to the antechamber, and Marcie's back.
Marcie was grateful that Gordon promised to remain respectful. She just hoped that he would stay true to his word. She suddenly became aware of herself. Her breasts pressing against her blouse, her hips pushing against the standard office chair, the nape of her neck feeling the breeze from the aircon. She couldn't help but think of herself as a piece of juicy steak on a platter before a starving "vegetarian" man.
Marcie pressed down on the intercom to check if Gordon was alright; he seemed off-kilter enough that Marcie was worried he might suffer a heart attack or stroke. There was no answer. She tried the intercom again… Nothing. The intercom was on the fritz again. She was about to call someone from IT when she thought better of it. Those guys would certainly take advantage of her. They'd given Marcie lecherous looks well before the laws were introduced.
She stood up from her desk and carefully intruded into Gordon's room. "Is everything alright, Mr Fumes?" Marcie asked in a higher range than usual.
"Perfectly fine Marcie, thank you." Gordon adjusted his tie as if he were choking. His personal mobile phone started to ring; a custom jingle reserved for his wife. He answered it, accidentally placing it on speakerphone, a common occurrence for the older man; he must have been pushing fifty now.
"Gordon... oh god... Gordon are you there?" Mrs Fumes sounded breathless.
"Linda? Are you ok? Did you lock the doors?"
"I uh…" A muffled moan erupted from the phone, "I did, but the postman had… a package to give me."
"Linda, tell him to leave."
"I—I tried, he said he'd leave once he was done." The sound of slapping flesh grew louder through the phone. "He's already inside... Gordon, it feels..." A toe-curling cry of pleasure followed. The line went dead.
Marcie stood there silently, wishing she were anywhere else but here. Gordon started pacing, tie completely removed and thrown to the floor.
"I can't believe it!" Gordon was talking to himself… "How could Linda do this to me? Fucking the mailman? Really? Here I am being a saint while she fucks another guy in our home." He stopped pacing and looked at Marcie.
Marcie backed away slowly like a doe caught in a tiger's sights.
"It's not fair, Marcie. Tell me, do you think it is fair?"
"Not fair at all, sir…" Marcie was almost past the threshold.
"I tell you, the stress is going to kill me. I can't focus, how am I supposed to protect you if I can't think straight?"
"Sir?"
Gordon walked over to Marcie and placed one of his hands on the doorframe. "I'm a man, Marcie. A man in pain. I need help alleviating it."
"You said you were going to keep things professional Mr Fumes." Marcie's voice was firm. She looked for an escape plan.
"I know… But the law says you're supposed to help." Gordon looked down Marcie's blouse, he was close enough that Marcie could smell his aftershave. "I won't ask for... everything. But I need help. I need to take the edge off. Just... a helping hand? Please?"
"Mr Fumes, you are a…" Marcie stopped herself from finishing her sentence; she was about to say that he was a 'married man', not the best move right now. She was in a tough spot. A single word, and Marcie could be thrown to the wolves on the sales floor. There was no way Samson would be able to protect her from dozens of horny guys. "A helping hand?" Marcie swallowed.
"Yeah, just a handjob, just a quick handjob to clear my head. You can do that, right?" Gordon was almost touching her.
Just a handjob? Marcie thought it was as fucked up as it sounded. But this is far better than the alternative.
Marcie looked down at Gordon's crotch. He was already tenting. This wasn't good. Her mind thought of Samson. Would he be able to forgive her for something like this? How did Marcie know that Samson wasn't already fucking some tramp in his cubicle? No. Samson wasn't like that. This would all be on her.
"Just a handjob. My clothes stay on." Marcie set out the terms.
"Brilliant!" Gordon wasted no time in unzipping his pants and pulling out his cock. It flopped against Marcie's skirt.
"One moment." Marcie held up her hand as she retrieved a small bottle of hand lotion she kept on her desk. She hated dry skin. She squirted a generous amount into her palm and rubbed her hands together. The smell of cocoa butter was strong. Gordon nodded in approval.
Marcie returned to her boss, his cock out and standing in the doorway. She reached down and took her boss's cock in her hand without looking at it. It was surprisingly heavy; her hand barely fit around the girth of it. It was already warm and twitching with excitement.
"Ahh." Gordon let out a relieved sigh as Marcie's hand began its slow journey up and down his length. "Oh god Marcie…"
Marcie remained silent as she worked his length. She was determined to get this over as quickly as possible. She started at a steady pace, sliding her palm from the tip of his glands, all the way down to the base of his balls, and then back up again. She couldn't help but think of it like she was reloading a pump-action shotgun at a retro arcade. The journey of Marcie's hand took longer than it would have with Samson. Gordon's length slid up her forearm as she stroked; he was clearly hung. She glanced down. Her suspicions were correct. A size that Marcie had only seen in pornos and hentai. Who knew Mr Fumes was packing heat?
"Your hands are amazing, even softer than I'd imagined."
"Than you imagined?" Of course, Gordon had fantasised about her; men had a one-track mind.
"Yeah, can you blame a man? You're stunning." Gordon looked down at Marcie's breasts, watching them jiggle slightly with each pump of her arm. He continued to steady himself on the doorframe as he reached out to grab a handful of Marcie's tits.
"Sir!" Marcie complained.
"Just over the clothes, I promise," Gordon assured Marcie. Somehow, Marcie didn't trust his promises anymore.
I need to end this before he gets any more ideas. Marcie's left hand joined her right around Gordon's shaft. She pumped away steadily, thinking of anything but what was going on right in front of her. She was just churning butter in her head. The big thick stick going up and down… up and down… She entered a state of flow. Gordon's cock pulsed between her fingers. The lotion made the sound of each stroke distinct.
"Here I come Marcie." Gordon dug his fingers deeper into Marcie's blouse. His balls tightened. His cock throbbed in Marcie's hands. "Fuuuck!"
Marcie sidestepped Gordon's release. Long, thick ropes of cum plastered the floor where Marcie was standing a moment before. Marcie was on autopilot; she continued stroking her boss until he was fully emptied. It really was a lot of cum. A lot of cum that she was probably going to have to clean up. When Marcie was done, her hands were slick with lotion and her boss's love. She let go of Gordon's cock, and it began to deflate. She grabbed some tissues from her desk, wiped her boss's cock, then cleaned her hands.
"Thank you, Marcie." Gordon seemed like a whole new person. Revitalised. "Excellent performance. I will make a note of it for my files. Do you have the Smithson account ready?" His professional demeanour returned, and the flop sweat he was suffering was completely gone.
"Yes sir. I will bring it in right away."
Marcie's heart sank as the reality of what had just happened set in. Although the doors were locked, she wasn't safe in here.