Anything For Business

I stared up at the ceiling of my office and wondered how many other assistant bank managers let their customers fuck them after hours. Mark Adams' cock traveled in and out of my wet cunt like a piston. I'd met him two weeks ago; finalized a small business loan with him an hour ago; and now I was letting him fuck me on top of my desk.

It's not like I go months without sex or anything. I hired a kid right out of college, Chad, who is more than willing to do me morning, noon or night. I've even been known to let Chad and Christine, the manager of one of our other banks, have their way with me at the same time.

So why did I find it necessary to flirt with Mark Adams until the bank was empty and he was practically ripping open my blouse? The moment he had my bra off and his mouth was on my breast I knew we'd fuck. Of course, the fact I had his cock in my hand didn't hurt his chances.

He was rough in his handling of me and I loved it. He lifted me onto the desk, pushed up my skirt and yanked down my panties in just seconds. I barely had time to spread my legs for him when his huge cock drove into me and I screamed with pleasure.

I came within two minutes. Now I was recovering, waiting for him to cum…or for me to have another orgasm…whichever came first.

I reminded myself to ask Christine how often she'd done the same thing for the sake of business. This WAS business, after all. I'd never do this for the sole purpose of personal gratification.

My fingers gently rolled across my right nipple, then my left. I squeezed it a little harder and felt my pussy clamp more tightly around Mr. Adams' cock. Then I moved a hand to my clit and rubbed it, listening to the man's heavy breathing.

He was going to be a steady customer and I'm all about customer relations. It's what will make me a good bank manager one day, I thought. Then I noticed a crack in one of the ceiling tiles, making a mental note to tell maintenance about it tomorrow.

About the same time I felt another orgasm approaching, I heard the small businessman with the big dick groan the way guys groan before they cum. Sometimes they bother to warn me; sometimes they don't.

"Fuck. Yes! I'm gonna cum!"

I took that as a warning. I felt the first blast of his cum just as I started to orgasm, too. My legs were wrapped tightly around his waist. He held me up by the ass and poured shot after shot of cum into me while my body shuddered in its own excitement. Maybe I didn't take it as seriously as I should have, but God that was a good orgasm. Two good orgasms, in fact.

This guy was alright.

"Thanks for the loan, Rachel," Mr. Adams said while pulling up his pants.

"Thanks for the fuck, Mark." I couldn't tell from his look how he interpreted my remark. I sat on the edge of the desk and let him enjoy the view of my naked breasts. My rumpled skirt barely covered my pussy. I was back in flirting mode again. "I'll be seeing you some more, right?"

"When we expand," he said with a smile. There was only one way to interpret THAT remark.

"Great. It was a pleasure doing business with you." I extended a hand. He shook it once, kissed it once and left the bank.

#####

I didn't expect to hear from Mark Adams again for a while. So, I was somewhat surprised to hear a voicemail from him two days later. I leaned back in my chair and put it on speaker.

"Hey, Rachel. This is Mark Adams. We're having a grand opening in a couple weeks and I wanted to personally invite you. This wouldn't have been possible without your help, so I hope you'll consider coming. It's nothing formal. Just the employees and family and friends like you. If you're interested and your schedule permits, give me a call at 555-1234. Hope to hear from you. Bye."

I'm not one to turn down too many party invitations. And while this one had the potential to be a real snoozer, something made me give it serious consideration. Maybe the two orgasms were still fresh in my mind. But the dude deserved my continued 'support', so I waited twenty four hours, called him back and confirmed my reservation. He truly sounded excited. Nothing like a happy customer.

It was a fairly uneventful couple weeks leading up to the "Grand Opening" of Mark's little restaurant…except for the blowjob I gave Chad in the safety deposit box area one night,. By the way, me giving Chad a blowjob at work is not news. The fact he didn't want me to swallow this time and missed my face, leaving a trail of cum down the front of three safety deposit boxes IS news. We got most of it before it disappeared between the cracks. Oh, well.

What to wear to a customer's "Grand Opening" was my biggest concern. Should I dress like the thirty year old assistant bank manager I was by day, or the cute, single woman I liked to be at night? I decided this was more play than work, so I went for a low cut top under a jacket and dress slacks that might have been a bit too tight for work.

I'm used to going to functions by myself, so that wasn't an issue. In fact, it leaves me free to do some 'scouting' of prospective future dates. Mark Adams was married, so I wouldn't be wasting too much time with him. But I was pleasantly surprised upon my arrival to find many more men than women present.

The restaurant was really well laid out and it seemed like a place I'd want to come back to and try later. I found Mark, or he found me, and we exchanged greetings. He introduced me to a couple co-owners and investors before setting me free again to mingle and test the cuisine.

Just when it seemed I'd meet more new food than people, a young man caught my eye. He couldn't have been more than eighteen. I'm not normally immediately attracted to guys that young, but this one was different. He was tall, cute, and seemingly self-assured as he walked through the crowd taking pictures on a very expensive looking camera.

I purposely strolled leisurely in a direction that would cause our paths to intersect. His back was towards me as I got closer. When he finished taking the picture of a smiling middle-aged couple holding drinks, he turned and almost ran into me.

"Hi," I said calmly.

"Oh, hi. Excuse me," he said.

He had the greatest eyes—a shade of blue I'd last seen while looking up from the top of my desk at work.

"It's OK. I'm Rachel," I said, extending my hand.

"Hi. I'm Jeff. Jeff Adams." His handshake was firm without being aggressive.

"Oh. Are you Mark's…" I let the sentence trail off, hoping for him to finish it.

"Son. Yes."

I smiled. It figured. My life was never uncomplicated. I was about to flirt with the son of the man I mindlessly fucked a few weeks earlier.

"Nice to meet you. This is a very nice place," I said.

"Thanks. And thanks for coming. May I take your picture…for our album?"

"Of course." I smiled and surreptitiously hoped he was capturing more than a head and shoulder shot of me. He backed up a step. That was a good sign, I figured. The flash was followed by a quick glance by Jeff at the back of the camera.

"Perfect. Thanks."

"Do you take photos as a hobby or is it your job tonight?" I asked, not wanting him to get away just yet.

"I want to do it professionally. It's what I'll be taking in college when I start in the fall."

"Awesome!" I said. "What area do you want to get into? What type of pictures?"

"Fashion, if I can. For magazines and advertising," Jeff said, thrilled that somebody was taking an interest.

"Smart. Get to meet all those babes, right?"

He laughed. "I don't know about that."

"You'll have them crawling all over you." I hoped it didn't sound too obvious or that my quick scan of his body wasn't too blatant. I reasoned it was just payback for the looks down my top that he'd failed to conceal.

"Have you ever modeled?"

I tried not to laugh. It was either the worst use of a poor pickup line I'd heard in ages or just his youth showing. An eighteen year old guy as good looking as him is allowed one mistake.

"You're kidding, right?" Might as well play along.

"No. Really. You're very attractive," he said, not the least bit embarrassed.

"I'm the woman at the bank who approved the final loan for this place," I said.

"Oh, OK. Have you ever considered modeling?"

If Jeff Adams was one thing, he was persistent.

"Nah." But I gave him my best shy little girl wiggle.

"I have a small studio set up in our basement. If you're ever interested, I'd be glad to take some shots. I think you'd be great…and it would be great practice for me. Can I give you my cell number?"

It was tempting to put him off, but I found myself reaching inside my small purse and pulling out a business card. "Here. Call me at this number. We'll talk."

"Thanks," Jeff said, looking at the card briefly before putting it in his back pocket.

"I better not keep you from your job," I said. "It was nice meeting you, Jeff."

"You too. I'll call you." His hand seemed to linger in mine just a little longer this time.

#####

I slept naked that night knowing I'd be thinking about young Jeff Adams. My favorite little vibrator was already in my hand as I slid under the cover. I flicked it on and started at my breasts where the sensation of the vibrating toy rubbing against my nipples sent jolts of pleasure all the way to my pussy. I smiled as the nipples grew longer and pinker with each pass of the vibrator.

I ran it up and over both breasts, imagining Jeff's fingers doing the same thing. He was so young—so good looking. My body shook when the pulsating toy once again made contact with my nipple. I felt my back arch up and my pussy begin to dampen.

I couldn't wait any longer. I slid the vibrator down to the top of my pussy. My legs separated just enough for the little imitation cock to find my exposed clit.

"Oh, God," I moaned out loud. "Don't cum yet. Tease him. Make him want to fuck you."

If nobody was going to be around to talk to me during sex, I'd have to do it myself. I needed to, and wanted to, cum so badly, but I knew I'd be rewarded if I could hold out for just a little while longer.

The vibrator was moving up and down on my clit. My hips rose and fell in rhythm with the device. In my mind, it was Jeff's tongue sliding along my clit and making me ache with the need to cum. Then I envisioned him standing in front of me, pulling off his shirt. His shoulders and arms were muscular and his skin was light and smooth. He unzipped his pants and let them fall to the floor, leaving him in just a pair of briefs.

I could plainly see the outline of his enlarged cock. He stood for a moment, watching my reaction with a sly smile.

"Take them off," I said. "I want to see you."

The sound of my own voice startled me for a second, but then I drifted back into my daydream, the vibrator sinking lower between my legs.

Jeff grabbed the top of his underwear and began to remove the briefs. His cock hung in front of him as he bent over, taunting me. Then he stood naked, his legs spread slightly apart in a sturdy stance.

He was gorgeous.

"Turn around."

I watched his tall body rotate until his tight ass was visible. He stood with his hands on his hips, posing for me. He was like a Michelangelo statue with his thin waist and round butt and powerfully built legs. I wanted to touch every inch of him.

Jeff turned to face me again. His cock was longer and thicker than when I told him to turn around, but still not fully erect.

"Fuck me, Jeff Adams."

My vibrator was on my clit, then between my legs pulling moisture from my pussy back up to my clit. I used my free hand to massage a breast, pulling at the nipple and rolling it between my fingers.

I imagined Jeff stroking his cock right before climbing onto the bed. He was hard now. Very hard. The tip of his cock glowed a dark pink and I could practically see the blood rushing through the shaft. He positioned himself between my legs and hovered over me, his cock just inches from my drenched pussy.

With one sudden thrust he was inside me. My hand clutched at the vibrator as it plunged into my cunt over and over, a little deeper each time.

"God, yes! Fuck me, Jeff. Harder! Harder!!"

I pumped the vibrator into me as fast as my arm could move. The slurping sound of the toy interacting with my cunt filled the dark room. I fucked the vibrator as if I'd never had sex before, squeezing it with my pussy like I would any ordinary cock. But Jeff Adams was not ordinary. He was the eighteen year old dude of my dreams, and he was fucking me just the way I liked.

"Oh, fuck. Fuck!"

With one hand working the vibrator and the other manipulating a breast, it wasn't going to take long to cum. I thought about looking up into Jeff's big, beautiful eyes and holding him by the ass while he fucked me.

That did it. I screamed out one last shriek of joy and waited for my body to succumb to my orgasm. Rarely, when I'm masturbating, do I feel like I've lost control. But this time…with the image of Jeff Adams fucking me clear in my mind…I felt as if my body was acting on its own. My pussy pressed forward against the thrusts of the vibrator. My legs flailed open to give it more room. My ass seldom rested on the bed as the orgasm peaked. And I heard myself muttering things even I didn't understand.

Long after I usually would be coming down from an orgasm, my hand was furiously pumping the vibrator into my cunt. My body refused to stop quivering. My breathing became harder and little beads of sweat formed on my brow. I could feel the sheet under me getting wetter and wetter.

Finally, it ended and I fell back onto the bed in total exhaustion. Jeff's cock was still hard, and still inside me.

#####

"This is Rachel. Can I help you?" I didn't recognize the number on my office phone's caller ID.

"Hi, Rachel. This is Jeff. Jeff Adams."

I sat up in my chair. "Well, hi Jeff. What a nice surprise. What can I do for you?"

"Uh, well, remember when you were at the Grand Opening we talked about maybe taking some shots of you?"

If he only knew how well I remembered. My heart was pounding like a little schoolgirl talking on the phone with her boyfriend for the first time.

Grow up, Rachel

.

"Sure. I remember," I replied.

"Are you still interested?" I smiled at Jeff's obvious nervousness. Was he smiling at me, too?

"Sure, Jeff. I think it would be fun and if it would help you I'd be glad to do it."

If it would help you. Right. I just want to be in the same room as you again.

"Great," he said, sounding honestly excited. "What day is good for you?"

I fumbled with papers on my desk as if to find my calendar. "Uh, looks like most any night next week."

At least I wasn't lying.

"How about Friday? Or do you have a date?" Jeff asked.

"I do now."

There was silence at the other end as Jeff digested that one.

"Great! How about if I e-mail you directions to the house. You can tell me what time is good."

He sounded very professional. I still considered it a social event.

"Perfect. I'm looking forward to it, Jeff," I said.

"Me, too. I'll send the e-mail as soon as I can."

"Thanks. See ya," I said.

"Bye."

I leaned back and felt every muscle in my body relax. God, what was he doing to me? He's a kid. Eighteen. He probably had no intention of fucking me.

I was brought back to Earth by another call. This one was business.

The e-mail from Jeff arrived later the same day and everything was set for Friday. Shit! What was I supposed to wear? In the excitement of hearing from him I never considered asking him what he wanted me to wear.

I hit the Reply button on the e-mail.

Hey Jeff. I meant to ask you what you want me to wear on Friday. Does it matter to you? Let me know. Thanks. Rachel

I had to wait less than half an hour for his answer.

Hi, Rachel. Wear whatever you want this time. If you enjoy it and want to do it again, maybe we can experiment with formalwear, or swimsuit, or whatever you want. We'll talk about it later. Jeff.

If I enjoy it and want to do it again? Are you fucking kidding me? I suppose he meant the posing, but I had other thoughts. Hell, yes, I'd enjoy it. And I prefer to wear nothing at all.

But I knew it was all just a daydream of mine. First of all, I didn't have the nerve to come on to an eighteen year old kid the first time we were together. Fucking his father in my office is one thing—doing Jeff in his studio was quite another. I doubted I could do it in my horniest of moods. I convinced myself not to get my hopes up too high.

#####

It took forever for Friday to arrive. When I got home from work I changed into my best jeans and put on a sleeveless top that accentuated my less-than-spectacular breasts. There was no way I was taking a swimsuit…not this time, anyway. As a compromise, I didn't wear a bra.

On the drive to Jeff's place the thought struck me: What if Mark was there? What if Mark AND his wife were there? It wasn't enough to make me turn the car around, but I'd have to think of something to say. In the end I decided I'd just keep it professional and ask about the new restaurant.

The huge house showed no outward signs of life as I pulled into the semicircular driveway. Mine was the only car in sight. This was good news so far, as I truly didn't want to have to face the elder Mr. Adams. Not to mention wanting to have the younger Mr. Adams all to myself.

I approached the front door, admiring the perfect landscaping along the way. My shoes clicked against the flawlessly laid sidewalk stones. Oh, to be rich.

I pressed the doorbell.

The seconds seemed to last an eternity as I waited. I played with my hair. I ran my hands down the back of my jeans. Finally, I heard the door open.

"Hey, Rachel."

It was Jeff…thankfully.

"Hi, Jeff."

"Come on in," he said as the door swung all the way open. I stepped up and into the gaping entranceway. Instantly, my eyes were scanning the ornate chandelier and dark woodwork.

"I'm really glad you decided to come over," he said, closing the door behind me.

"I'm glad you asked," I replied, refocusing on the young man.

He started to walk ahead of me. "Let's go into the family room."

I was going to have to remember Jeff probably wasn't going to act like the more mature, professional men I was used to dealing with. Maybe it would be a nice break from the routine. I followed him obediently, knowing his father would have let me lead the way or, at least, been at my side.

When we got to the expansive family room, Jeff asked, "Want anything to drink? We have just about everything."

"No thanks, Jeff. I'm fine," I said, not sure whether to sit or stand.

"You sure?"

"Yeah. I'm fine," I assured him.

"Well, want to see the studio downstairs?" he asked.

Nothing like skipping past the formalities and getting straight to the subject, I thought with a smile. Perhaps I wasn't the only nervous one.

"Sure."

He motioned for me to follow him. It gave me a few seconds to check out his form fitting, knit shirt and tight jeans. Once again, I was reminded why I agreed to do this in the first place. I also took the opportunity, during the short walk, to ask about his parents.

"Oh, they went out," he said. "It'll be hours before they're back."

If Jeff had looked back at me he would have found me smiling.

I don't know what made me expect to find an 'ordinary' basement at the bottom of the steps we descended. Instead, we immediately stepped into an ornately decorated and well-supplied photo studio. Tall lights, umbrellas, reflectors and backdrops were everywhere. The company that did my little bank's advertising would have killed for some of this stuff.

"Wow!" I said unashamedly as I looked around. "This is amazing!"

"Thanks," Jeff said.