A Challenging Internship

"Alicia, how's your first day?"

"It's great, Mr. Damien."

"Okay, then I wish a happy two months for you. You'll love it here."

"Thank you very much, Boss."

Alicia walked out of the office of Gabriel Damien, with heavy steps and a light heart.

The job, contrary to its Hollywood portrayal, was not an easy one. She had to sort through stacks of documents, take pages of notes throughout the day, and be the calendar of her boss.

The last one was in fact, the most challenging of all.

Gabriel Damien was a man of will, of authority, and of whims. He had too many meetings and not enough time. It was the duty of Alicia to sort out his over-packed schedule, only to be later thrown away, because he "felt" to go on a different tour. A new over-packed schedule would be expected of her shortly after.

At precisely 9:30, Gabriel summoned Alicia, and told her to reschedule his 11:00 meeting with Mrs. Cole to the afternoon, as mini-golfing with an old friend of his was decidedly the better way of spending the hour just before lunch.

Of course, Mrs. Cole was not happy about it. It apparently wasn't often that an investor would get blown off. But Mr. Damien was unaffected when Alicia passed on the lament she received from Mrs Cole, minus a few words of troubling vulgarity. He waved his giant hands, and told her,

"She'll come to the meeting in the afternoon, and she'll invest. Listen, business ain't personal. She doesn't have to like me; I just have to demonstrate that the business worthy of her money."

"Of course, Mr. Damien."

"You did a fine job, Alicia. Now, you've probably realized the real meaning of your job: absorbing all the phone calls and stuff, and when you pass them on to me, filtering out the negativity. You're the

Wall of Negativity

."

"O, okay......"

"It's of utmost importance that I remain positive. If I'm positive, the business runs well. If the business runs well, the business gets money. Where there is money, you get paid, and you can kick the negativity away. Isn't that a great strategy?"

"Absolutely, absolutely."

"That's my first lesson to you. You can write that down. Business 101: Hire a beautiful secretary to be your Wall of Negativity."

Alicia doubted how positive her professors would be when she reported that lesson back to college. And, she was 80% sure that Mr. Damien had made up the phrase "Wall of Negativity" a moment ago, and thought to herself to keep the lesson at the "remain positive" part.

In fact, she was convinced that to "remain positive" was fairly effectual, at least in the case of Gabriel Damien. He delegated most of his job to managers and ran the company by meeting with people, blowing them off, and earning their trust back by swooping in with an air of aggressive positivity. The strategy was built on his extraordinary confidence.

The man spoke with enthusiasm and certainty, dress with the most luxurious—but not outrageous—suits, and stared with the most inviting and powerful gaze. His manner and appearances gave importance to his character, which was his greatest tool of persuasion.

In essence, he seduced them to empty their pockets for him.

Alicia gave Gabriel Damien another good look, and thought,

yeah

, who'd say no to those dashing, fierce, gray eyes?

The second day began with a big hiccup on Alicia's part. Mr. Damien's 10 o'clock was double-booked.

Outside the door, two clients were waiting. A gray-haired man with a blue tie reclined on the couch, glancing at his golden watch every 30 seconds. On the other couch, a woman in her thirties and in black pen suit, sat upright with her legs crossed, her fingers tapping, and her chin posed so high, matched only by her self-importance.

Inside the door, Alicia was apologizing in broken words.

"I'm so so—sorry; I don't know what happened. I must have, have, have looked at the wrong—"

"Cut it off! Cut it off!"

Mr. Damien, the boss of Damien Enterprise, plugged his ears with his fingers and shook his head.

"Don't you come in here and apologize like that! All whimpering and crying! Stop it! I'm not listening! Not listening!"

"I'm not actually crying, Mr. Damien......"

"Good! That's a good start. Remember, I hired you as the

Wall of Negativity

. I didn't hire you so you can come in here and complain yourself. Quick, say something positive."

After a few seconds of musing and gaping, Alicia raised her eyes, and with all the positivity she could gather, said,

"You have two clients waiting for you, Mr. Damien. Double the meeting, double the efficiency. You can make two deals with half the time."

He dashed from his seat, hugged Alicia like a bear hugging a rabbit, and stormed into the waiting room.

"Brilliant! That's my pretty new secretary!"

It was an hour of intense negotiation. She gave up the hopeless task of taking notes, and ended up admiring Mr. Damien speaking like a machine gun. His negotiation technique was either frightening or entertaining, depending on whether one was on the receiving side.

The spirits of the clients were overwhelmed by Mr. Damien, their self-esteem crushed, their faculty fogged, their objectives cast aside. The gray haired man had been adjusting his tie every 30 seconds, but that didn't stop him from sweating through the shirt. The woman, whose chin was raised, now leaned her temple against her palm, and looked as if she'd falter to the ground otherwise.

He bid them against each other and reached a deal that both of them were to be purchasing more than they had planned.

"Phew, that was a glorious hour. I almost need to catch a breath after that."

Mr. Damien patted Alicia on her shoulder. His giant hand was quite sweaty and hot from the hour of glory. His face were flushed, his hair quite scrambled, as if he had finished not a business meeting, but an athletic deed.

She brought him a cup of iced coffee and a damp towel, while he reviewed his calendar for the rest of the day.

"Alicia, cancel the rest of the day, and we're going to celebrate!"

"For getting the two clients?"

"No, for you! You saved the company! My schedule was double-booked, and you came up with a brilliant idea that enabled me to turn it into an opportunity."

"It was me who double-booked you in the first place."

"Honesty! That's also what I value dearly. I'd say you have more than atoned for your little hiccup by taking the challenge, and making it into an opportunity. You are the

Opportunity Motor

, like an electric motor that turns electricity into motion."

"I thought I was the

Wall of Negativity

."

"

Wall of Negativity

...... That sounds silly.

Opportunity Motor

is way better. Anyway, your perspective was impeccable, and your contribution worthy of celebration. Let's go to a pub."

"At noon?"

"Why not? You can drink, right? I can't quite tell if you are over 21."

"I'm 21, yes."

"Bar it is! Oh, by the way, that's the third lesson I'm teaching you, always reward the subordinate for a good idea."

That actually sounded like a solid lesson, albeit plenty obvious.

Alicia thought.

"Shotgun!" Mr. Damian proclaimed.

The bar, however, was not open.

Alicia could see a shadow of disappointment looming over his face, so thought hard on what could inject him with a dose of positivity.

"Hey, boss! What about we buy a couple of beers and just chill somewhere else? It's quite a beautiful day, isn't it a good

opportunity

for a picnic?"

The idea was deemed brilliant, and Alicia was again showered with praise. They drove to the top of a nearby mountain. The secludedness was to make sure that they wouldn't bump into a police officer while consuming alcohol, as Mr. Damien didn't seem to be thoroughly convinced Alicia was "a day over 20".

They stopped at a square of clearing of moderate slope, which was surrounded by a rocky edge that provided them with the view of a deep valley.

Water could be heard but not seen. Alicia had suggested that a creek was near, and the sound had echoed through the valley and was amplified by the opposing mountain. But that was not enough to dissuade Mr. Damien from believing that a giant underground river was roaring a few inches below their feet.

Unfortunately, it turned out that Mr. Damien tolerated alcohol as good as he tolerated negative clients. One can of beer was all it took to knock him flushing and tumbling.

Those gray handsome eyes of his were softened by giddiness. He looked less fierce, and instead, a bit goofy and humorous.

He stood on the edge of a giant rock, looked around, and announced,

"Ah! I feel funny, Alicia. I feel funny."

And he hunched over—Alicia had to rush to bolt him to prevent him tumbling over the edge—and threw up into the valley.

His giant body slumped on her shoulders, which almost knocked her out of breath. With incredible fortitude, and despite her slender form, Alicia carried Mr. Damien to the car. Neither had the strength to place him into the car, so he sat down on the ground, giving no care of his expensive suits which were now planted in dirt and grasses.

"You are totally drunk, Mr. Damien."

And you weigh like a bear.

She thought.

"Oh, you are, stronger than, than I thought. You are so pale, and weak."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"I'm, wasted, at noon. That's not, very, boss, like. Bad, role, model. Don't write, that, down."

"I'm going to write down that my boss is the most chilled boss in the world."

"Ah! Enough with the positivity alright!"

"Really?"

"I don't want positivity right now; just some, honest, conv—conversation. Hey, I know you may have thought I was silly, for making you the 'Wall of Negativity' and 'Opportunity Motor'. It kinda sounded like I was some snake oil self-help seminar speaker, didn't it?"

"It really did."

"I'm, so, lame at drinking. How, how, come you're not drunk?"

"It's nothing compared to the parties at my college."

"Ah! Gotcha. Party girl! You must have all the party boys lined up to chase you."

"I hope! But no, I rarely go to parties, in fact. I have triple majors and I'm in business school. More like a nerd girl."

"How come you are here for a secretary's job?"

"It turns out not easy to juggle three majors without fucking up my grade. My GPA is so bad, that my application never even passed the stage of HR-glancing-at-your-resume, except, of course, this one."

"Ha! That's because we don't have an HR!"

"I don't even want to go back to college, Mr. Damien. If my GPA keep slipping, I'm fucked. I had this secretary's job as an internship, so my resume is fucked. I shouldn't have triple-majored."

"Hey, that's okay, Alicia. Do you know why I hired you? Tenacity.

"Your grades are so bad, but you persist. That, in my book, is an A-plus quality.

"I wasn't so good in college either, and look at me now. I'm a boss, drunk in broad daylight with a young, pretty secretary.

"In fact, I was a college drop out; my grade was also bad, that they put me on academic probation for three times, and finally I just quit. I was absolutely jobless and listless, and I could feel that the ennui was eating me from the inside. Until one day, I walked past this self-help bullshit speech, free for all in a coffee shop, and I thought, 'hey, it couldn't make my life any worse' so I attended.

"Of course, it was just bullshit. Positive energy this, negative energy that; all the redressing common sense with make-up words. But I thought, I was actually intelligent and capable, who happened to have an easily defeated mind. My biggest problem was exactly that: I quit way too easily.

"Maybe this bullshit can work on me; you know, give me that tenacity I lack.

"And that's what I did for the next twenty years. Just pretending to be a goof-ball of 'positivity', corner myself to a place of no exit, and whip my ass off to work with what I've got. That, my dear Miss Alicia Fischer, is how you come back from a rock bottom."

Alicia listened with a gaping countenance,

"So, that's how you become a boss?"

"That's precisely how I become a boss."

"Oh, I'm so fucked. How can I write any of these in my report? You're like the anti-thesis of business school."

"You are so fucked. Ha! I am, in fact, an anti-thesis of any school there is. That's why I'm, so, good. Well, as long as you keep being my

Opportunity Motor

when I'm sober."

And it was all quiet for a second. There were the voices of crows echoing from afar.

"Alicia."

"Yes?"

"You've fucked up

big

time."

"What?"

"Neither of us can drive, now. We're drunk."

The news had evoked a sense of nausea that brought Alicia to the edge of that stone, bend her over, and forced her to empty her stomach.

She plodded back, her head now both clearer and floatier, that she was wavering left and right.

"Ah! Nerdy girl is not so tough after all. Sit down, you'll feel better."

"No! My dress will get dirty. That's my only decent dress."

Despite her assertiveness, the dizziness crept in, and she had nothing but an empty stomach to defend herself. She leaned on the car attempting to stay upright, but when her arms and legs resigned, faltered, and was received by the open arms of Mr. Damien.

"I'm sorry that your celebration day wasn't as fun. It was much better in my imagination."

"It's pretty fun. I hadn't been so drunk for a long time."

"You did drink all other five cans of beer."

"And I now have seen the other side of my boss. I really thought you were just a tremendous weirdo. Like, I literally would have thought you were in a cult or something. Can you imagine that? A CEO in a cult? I can't imagine that. Oh god, I'm talking so fast."

Alicia curled her legs and rested her head on his shoulder.

"We're stuck here, and that's all my fault. Should have thought this plan through. You aren't going to dock my pay, are you?"

"I'm not complaining. After all, I have a pretty secretary sitting in my lap."

"How many times have you called me pretty today? I'm like twenty years younger than you and I'm drunk now. This is, like, sexual harassment."

But she couldn't gather a condemning countenance, and her words dissolved into a string of giggles.

"A good thing we don't have an HR, huh? You'll have to report me to me."

He said that with a straight face, only to be betrayed by his laughing eyes. The curls at the corner of his eyes, indicative of both age and humor, was perceived by Alicia as charm and ardor.

"Mr. Damien, I'd like to report that my boss is harassing me. Let the record show, that as I'm speaking—Ouch!—the accused is fondling my thigh with his big hands—Oh God, they're like giant bear paws—and looking at me with his charismatic eyes. He is definitely harassing me, or something."

"Or something."

He leaned down as she spoke. She noticed how his lips curled, parted, and tremored. His breath was shallow, and so was hers.

She kissed Mr. Damien.

The alcoholic, manly breath hit her like a warm breeze, which kindled a burning feeling in stomach. It was a feeling of yearning, and a banishment of thoughts.

So she kissed him more.

They stumbled into the back seat and undressed with immense difficulty, as neither wanted to let go the touch of their other.

When the last bit of Mr. Damien's clothing was kicked off, Alicia found herself on top of Mr. Damien, facing his hairy, muscular chest. His shoulder were broad, his arms powerful, his belly thick. The resemblance to a bear really came as a full package.

She fondly lowered herself onto him, face on his chest, hands around his neck, and pussy against his erection. His big hands came around to brace her butt cheeks, and with little guidance, he was inside her.

"Mmm."

She whimpered.

Mr. Damien held her firmly with his arms, and rocked her from the bottom.

She felt him sliding out and thrusting in, his hips pounding on her slender figure, his chest heaving up and down fervently.

"Ar—Argh! O—Oh—-"

The violent waves of pounding broke her moan into pieces.

Rubbing herself against him, sinking her nails into his muscles, she had the desire to melt herself onto his body. The curled cock of his hit her in the most sensitive spot almost at every thrust.

The numbing pleasure accumulated until she let out a huge gasp, and her body rested on his.

* * *

Alicia woke up, with an aching head and a burning ass. Upon investigation, she found culprit of the former to be alcohol consumption, and of the latter, the sun.

They didn't close the car door facing the valley, and now the sun had assumed its afternoon post, showering its brilliance directly onto her naked ass.

Also shined by the sun was the cock of Mr. Damien, which now lay languidly in the warmth. Alicia just realized that this was the first time she saw a penis in broad daylight, which made her both curious and uncomfortable.

She poked it, examined it, and decided that the ideal lighting condition for a penis was somewhere between a dimly lit room and total darkness.

Probably total darkness.

"Good morning to you too, Alicia."

The real Mr. Damien was roused first by her groping.

"It's three in the afternoon, Mr. Damien."

"What's on my schedule?"

"Driving us back."

"Where are we?"

"In the exact middle of nowhere."

"Oh, yes, now I remember."

"You had forgotten?!"

"NO, no, no, I hadn't. Maybe a little bit. But! But it has come back to me already."

He scratched his head seeing Alicia's threatening eyes and feeling her tightening grip between his legs.

"Don't worry about your report by the way; you can write that you were an assistant to the chief executive. I'll write you a letter of recommendation so glowing that your GPA won't matter."

"That's very generous of you, boss."

"Ha," he sighed in relief as her iron grip had loosened, "I don't really feel like driving, though; still hangover."

"Me neither, Mr. Damien."

"Well, we have to stay here for a few more hours, then. Do you want to play scrabble?"

"Is scrabble a euphemism for something else?"

"It—is. It totally is. But I do have the real scrabble in the trunk, too, if that's what you want."

"I'll have to if

he

doesn't wake up soon."

"The thing about entering one's forties, is that once it goes down, it's not easy to get it up again. It's a very challenging experience, both physically and emotional."

She lowered herself between his legs, hands resting on his thighs.

"Challenge accepted."

And she parted her lips.