A Great Gift

A recent article in Cosmo had told her that 10% of the married workforce will at some point or another sleep with somebody from the job. If you are a woman, then the chances of you sleeping with somebody who is senior to you in the corporate structure are supposedly 60%. And out of those that do "sleep up", a whooping 76% sleep with their direct supervisor. Their boss. Like I did tonight, Amanda thought to herself as she rubbed against the broad chest of her lover, the hot water lapping up against them.

It had been the most fun sex had been in a long, long time. Darren would probably disagree with that, but she could give a fuck right now what Darren thought, because really she blamed Darren for putting her in this situation, and getting the shit fucked out of her by her boss. Well, really she should thank Darren; she thought and grinned to herself.

The road that would lead her to this path had forked several weeks ago, when she had come home announcing that she had just gotten her invitation for her companies annual Christmas party, and there would be an award in it for her this time. An award that came with a cash prize, she added, and a well deserved raise.

"Really hun, that's awesome." The dark eyes of her boyfriend of almost two years ran across the invitation she fluttered onto his lap, and he nodded slowly. "But...I'm not going to be able to make it." He reached up and turned of the TV, nobody really interested in what was going on with the cities annual Christmas Parade anyways.

"Voulez what?"

"I'm sorry, I won't be here." His hand withdrew a tissue from the box sitting next to him, and he very nosily blew his nose into it, then balled it up and discarded it into the trashcan in a high arched throw that bounced of the wall. The look from her got ignored as he pulled out his calendar. "I went in to work for a bit today, and I have to go out of town that week."

"Are you serious?!? I told you about this like two months ago, and you put it in all your little calendars!" Amanda dropped down next to him on the couch, kissing his forehead. Ever since he had come down with some kind of flu, she avoided kissing his mouth, even though they slept in the same bed. She would get whatever he had, she was sure of it. "What the hell do you have three calendars for if none of them mean a damn thing?"

"Yeah, well...sorry. Mr. Matins was very insistent that Rob, Daniel, Matt, and me have to go down there that Wednesday and deal with Exxon, their shit is going haywire, and that is not what the good people want to hear right now."

"God forbid that big oil can't check its email or something!" She stood again, stalking across the room, then turning and coming back, pointing an accusing finger. "You promised! Wait a minute, where are you going?"

"Miami." He grinned sheepishly, holding up a piece of paper.

Amanda ripped it from his hands, her green eyes shooting darts of anger at him as she perused the "List of hottest Miami hot spots," brought to you by Maxim. Apparently you could go to their website and look such things up. She had always known that he was a big fan of the stupid magazine and its two sister publications FHM and Stuff, but she had never realized that he was a member of their online component. Well, that should really come as no surprise, she thought to herself as she threw the printed document back at him.

"So you and your freakish friends, in Miami...how long?"

"At least a week, maybe more. But think of the Christmas shopping I'll do for you." He wiggled his eyebrows at her in vain, both of them knowing that he would be one of the many people out shopping 72 hours prior to the actual gift giving, sweating buckets and vowing to do better next year.

"Really? A week in Miami with the big oil execs. The same one's that took you to the strip club last time?" Not that Amanda was totally opposed to such things. She prided herself on being the girlfriend you could take to a skin joint, and she would occasionally indulge in a lap dance if she saw a really hot girl. Those pictures of her kissing a stripper at the Crazy Horse were probably making some kid on the internet very happy right now. And with her long blond hair, large green eyes, and full lips, she knew that those pictures had come out very well. She didn't go to the gym four days a week for nothing!

"Yeah, well...what, are you worried I'll cheat on you?"

"Right! You should be glad I put up with your shit, what makes you think somebody else will?"

"You never know." He grinned at her, blowing a kiss. This was the usual rhythm of their relationship, and she sighed as she walked down the hallway of their small apartment into the bedroom.

He stood and followed, watching her strip out of her work clothes as she went. The blouse and skirt got dropped into the dirty clothes hamper on her side of the bed, followed by the bra and finally that very nice black thong. His eyes admiringly traced across her beautiful form, from the small feet up the shapely legs, across her full rump to the slender waist. She turned as she pulled open her underwear drawer and withdrew a sports bra and matching panties, showing of her flat stomach in profile, along with that amazing rack. He knew her to be a 34C, his detail oriented mind never forgetting such a thing.

"I'm going to go work out down the street, you cooking tonight or should I pick something up on the way back?" A close friend of theirs worked the desk at the Gold's Gym, and so they got vastly reduced rates, always a bonus.

"Half the treadmills are broke, so I hope you weren't planning on running. I'll whip something up back here." He dropped onto the bed, reaching down for his own dirty clothes basket, coming back up to find himself face to face with the girl he had called his own for just over a year and a half now.

"You worked out earlier?"

"Ah, yeah..."

"Sick as you are?"

"I'm feeling..."

"Miami must be really fucking important." Slipping into her gray hooded sweatshirt she cast one last glance at him, and then stormed out of the apartment.

Things had not really gotten any better from there. They argued and bickered over little things, and after a while he became convinced that she just wanted to fight, and she accepted it as unwritten truth that he did not care about her feelings. Asshole! She had initially been attracted to Darren because he was a party animal just like her, he loved to go out and be out, loved to dance the night away and he was cool to all her friends. He was even good in bed, always a plus in a man these days, and he did not mind talking about emotions every now and then.

But, she now told her friends over lunch several days later, it was now pretty clear that all those traits could work against you, too. He would party and dance the night away with his friends in Miami, and he would be cool with whatever chica's whose path he crossed. She did not put it past him to be good in bed to them, too, and maybe show some emotion.

"You don't think he would cheat on you, do you?" It was important for Miriam to believe this, as Rob was her boyfriend and would be accompanying Darren down south.

"I don't think Rob would cheat on you, if that is what you are asking. But would Darren cheat on me? I mean, he always talks about how if Pamela Anderson came up to him, he would leave me in a heartbeat." Amanda shrugged.

"That's so gross. That bitch has Hepatitis, did you know that?" Sarah poked her fork at her salad before waving the green at her friends. Of the five girls present, she was one of two that was married, having made the jump while still in college. "Milton mentioned that little factoid to me a while ago, apparently he used to stroke off to her. Until he found out she had an STD, after that he only stroked to me." Apparently that was a big victory.

"Nice. Thanks for sharing that little tidbit." Miriam shook her head, then looked back at Amanda. "All guys think like that, but seriously."

"Honey, I don't know. And you know I don't care. He wants to be a dick, be a dick." She nodded emphatically, and her friends agreed.

And so the week of the party, and his departure for Miami, arrived with them still in a sort of cold war. Their longest argument before this one had lasted six days, so by now they were setting new records, the kind that had their friends worried. Sure, they could go out and have a good time, but everybody could sense the tension, could sense the impending fight, and they were not above making nasty comments to one another while out for drinks and dinner. It was the type of situation that nobody else wanted to be associated with for fear of having to choose sides, and so they moved in their own orbit of anger.

Wednesday arrived with little fanfare, and so that morning she headed into Mr. Summers office first thing that morning to make her request. "Hey boss, I need a favor."

"Anything for my sexy secretary." He was looking her up and down, making her giggle. She had picked out the short skirt and tight cashmere sweater with deep décolleté to make Darren jealous when he got the on plane, but she now realized that it would do the same thing to every other man she came across.

"I need to take my boyfriend to the airport at one, so I don't think I'll make it back in time. Is that okay?"

"That's it?" He grinned at her, his fingers still typing rapidly at his keyboard. She marveled at that ability of his to do two things at once sometimes.

"Yeah, I mean they sent out that email a week ago saying that you shouldn't be tempted to scam hours during the holidays..."

Mark waved his hand, casting a quick glance at his monitor and sending the email before he looked back at Amanda. The girl had worked for him for about two years now, and he had never worked with anybody who was as focused or as hard a worker. And she was forever afraid that her job was on the line, despite the fact that she was about to be decorated as 'Support Staff Worker of the Year."

"Where is he going?"

"Huh?" Amanda was already half way out the door when the question came, and she turned her head, leaning her shoulder against the door.

"Where is your boyfriend going? I take it this is business related?"

"Yeah, he's going to Miami for work. Bastard, he knew we had the party this week."

"Can I ask a question?" He was smiling at her now, and she nodded her head.

"I don't have a date, and now you don't have a date...so what about we just go together?"

"Is that okay? I mean, aren't there rules against that?"

Mark laughed, shaking his head. "Sure there are. But I mean, we aren't serious, are we? He's only gone on business, not forever. I just hate to go to these things and walk through the door alone. All the wives of the senior partners look at you like a leper, and then you have to listen to them telling you about eligible bachelorettes all night long."

"I know the feeling. Anything for you boss." She fluttered her eyelashes at him, his laughter following her back across the hall to her office. She liked his laughter, she thought.

The drive to the airport was silent, and they both knew why. Normally when he went away on a trip like this there was a romantic dinner in the prelude, whispered words of how special she was, and then some serious fucky-fucky time on the couch, against the wall, and a couple of other favorite spots around the apartment. This time there had been no such festivities, but a lot of quiet time as they ran on treadmills next to each other, the gently falling snow making running outside a very unappealing option.

She did not get out of the car at the departure line, and he did not really say anything. Finally he just grabbed his bags, kissed her cheek, and walked into the terminal, leaving her sitting in the car, a single tear rolling down her cheek. Not even a comment about her outfit, she thought. Fuck him, anyways. Did he care? Who knew, when she had asked him that exact question last night he had just looked at her rather blankly and moved on. The silent type, she reminded herself. Strong, not so much.

Thursday all her friends asked about him over lunch. He had not called when he got to Miami, but she knew he had gotten there because Rob had called Miriam. They also asked about the stunning red dress she had bought for the party, and the killer heels that she could really not afford, but that she was not going to turn down after everything that had happened. She tried him again that night, but all she got was his voice mail, so she put the phone down, and looked in the mirror.

Standing, she walked over to the full length glass surface, admiring herself. Her body was fit and trim, she knew it was. Her hair was freshly cut, and she had all new makeup supplies for tomorrow. The dress would be stunning, the thong was a new line from her favorite lingerie store, and there would be no bra. She hoped for some cold air, to make her nipples stand up. "I'm going to be hot. And you're going to be sorry you missed it." She smiled as she slipped into slumber.

Friday was a day off for everybody that worked for the consulting firm. The party started at six, but like most she showed up around four, four thirty, moving with the stream of bodies heading up the elevators as the building emptied itself, and going into her office. She was already dressed, but concealed herself under a long coat she had treated herself to last Christmas. Truly, it was out of style, but she did not care as it reached almost to her ankles, and did the job of hiding what she wanted hid.

There was a buzz in the office, as there was every year as workers checked their email and voice mail quickly, doing a couple last minute tasks. Mark showed up just past five, stalking into his office with a huge smile on his face, a small bag dangling from his hand. She waited until ten minutes before their appointed time to head down, then dropped her coat and walked into his office.

"Got any mistletoe?"

"Damn." That was all he could say, his mouth hanging open for a second. "Damn."

"I take it you like it." She twirled once for him, smiling wide.

"Your boyfriend is a fool." Taking her hand, he walked with her down the hall, heading over to the three big conference rooms that connected through sliding walls to form one massive ball room, where music was playing, food was laid out, and an open bar was available to those interested. She was interested, and when Mark got her a drink, she thanked him graciously and accepted. Had Darren called? No. Did she feel guilty for flirting? No.

She noted the looks of the men on her, noted the women that seemed confident of their hold over their dates, noted those that weren't, and those that had come single and were appraising her as competition. And she also did not miss Mark's eyes on her, how he looked at her, the hunger in his eyes, and how he was shamelessly flirting with her. She noticed how his brown hair looked damn cute tonight, noted how his gray eyes tracked her, how his well formed body danced with her. She mixed and mingled with her coworkers and their dates and spouses until the awards were handed out, never turning down a drink, and dining on the fine finger foods.

So when the time came, and her boss called her up to the podium, she was feeling no pain. She had a short acceptance prepared, and she managed to stick to it through focused concentration, and by leaning on the man that she blamed for putting her in for the whole thing. Afterwards they retired to the bar for a couple more drinks to celebrate, and finally she asked the obvious question.

"So where's my check?"

"You know you get paid by direct deposit, right?" He grinned when she laughed, slapping herself in the forehead. "The money just gets deposited with your next pay check."

"That's pretty sweet. But I was kinda looking forward to a big check, you know, Publishers Clearinghouse style. Oh well."

"Sorry, maybe I should have warned you. If you want we can go back to my office, and I'll print you."

"Oh, that sounds' fun." She winked at him, and he nodded her to follow him.

He let her stop of in the bathroom, waiting outside while she rushed in. She did have to pee, alcohol ran right through her, but really she wanted a chance to assess herself in the mirror, take a deep breath, and smile. She knew what the night was offering, and she felt the heat radiating in her body, that combination of lust and alcohol, one fueling the other, and she knew she would not put up much resistance.

They walked into his office, and he stepped over to the small fridge he kept behind his desk, pulling out a bottle of champagne. "I figured we could celebrate your award." Popping the cork, he poured two glasses, handing her one.

"Well, to a great boss."

"And to a great worker."

They tipped up, and he refilled their glasses, then walked around his desk and withdrew something from his desk drawer. She watched him put down his glass and come back towards her, handing her a small black box. "Merry Christmas."

"Oh my god. Ah...this is awkward. I didn't get you anything."

"You worked your ass off all year long. What more could I ask of you?" He grinned, his eyes implying her to open the box.

"Well, what do we have here..." Flipping it open, she was face to face with a four piece set. She couldn't quite figure it out for a second, but she knew diamonds when she saw diamonds, and they took her breath away. "Tell me they aren't real."

"One for each ear, one for that cute belly button of yours, and the necklace to balance it all out." He was grinning from ear to ear.

"Tell me they aren't real. And how do you know I have my belly button pierced?"

"The pool party this summer. I take this as a positive endorsement of my shopping prowess."

Amanda smiled at him, and he smiled back. Nobody really reached for anybody else, nobody really said anything to anybody else. It was just something that happened, something that transpired, an attraction that was not to be denied, an event they had both seen coming since leaving the party, one no longer to be denied, and so they kissed.

Wow, she thought, that man could kiss. Not just the regular, 'hi, this is me' type kiss, but the kind of 'you are going to open your legs to me tonight' kind of kiss, the kind that made her weak in the knees as his arms enveloped her and he pushed his tongue into her mouth. His hands roamed up and down her back, grabbing her ass, fingers tracing across her back, leaving hot traces as she moaned into his lips.

The leather couch in his office was always something she had admired. It was deep brown leather, rich and full, and when you sat on it, the taste and smell overwhelmed you. She had seen the expense account paperwork he had put through for it, and it cost more then she made in two months. But Mark was a good analyst because he had balls, and because he was willing to make calls and predictions nobody else would, which was why he was the youngest partner in the firm, and definitely the hottest. And oh my god, the one with the greatest fingers.

He was on top of her now, her legs wrapped around his waist as he kissed her, nimbly undoing her dress and exposing her breasts. His fingers slipped the fabric down across her skin, his lips following, touching more and more as it became available to his hungry needs. Her nipples did not stay hidden for long, and she moaned out again when he sucked on them, his teeth grazing the tops and then clamping on as he admired her large areolas. "You have awesome breasts."

"Thank you."

No bra today, he noted and so he kept up the compliments on her chest, then on her neck, then her eyes, ears nose, and then just kissing. He was holding her tight, his grip firm and demanding, and as his crotch ground into her, she was certain she had a mini orgasm, her breath rapid and shallow as she grabbed his ass, feeling those steel hard buns. Wow. Did he own a gym or something? Her alcohol-hazed mind did not really comprehend what was going on, but damn it felt good!