"Fuck!" I yelled when I turned into the first empty parking space I found. I franticly searched the backseat for my work badge. I had it laminated the day before with my picture and ID number. I was told this was my only way to access doors and offices, and it was my responsibility to bring it everyday.
The radio station that I had just gotten a job at was a godsend. My mass communications degree was still warm from the hands of the dean less than 2 months earlier. After 20 resumes and what seemed like a thousand interviews, I finally ended up here. A rock station with a huge following where the radio personalities seem to be your best friend and I knew I would fit in. I could relate I suppose, since all the staff I had meet were very friendly so far, even the guy who hired me.
"Thank you!" I yelled out, this time in triumph as I dug my laminated badge from between the seats. I sighed from relief and neatly attached it to my shirt. The dress code was casual so I choose a pair of blue cords and a fitted top. I touched up my blush and lip-gloss, took a deep breath and stepped out of my car.
Here goes nothing.
I began my walk to the front door, mentally going over my duties. I was hired as a Promotions Director Assistant for the afternoon DJs – Michael and Angela - who, I were told, were the stars of the station. Their cult following extended beyond the station and into events where they hung out and interacted with the audience. Today I was going to meet them.
I smiled brightly when I made my way to the front door, proudly displayed my badge and delighted in the beep sound the door made when it unlocked. I found my way to the 3rd floor and found my desk.
"Not too bad," I said to myself.
"Morgan!" I turned my head at the sound of my name and smiled when I saw Steve, the Producer of the Michael and Angela Show. He was the one who had interviewed me the week before and offered me the job yesterday.
"Hi Steve," I said pleasantly. I didn't want to seem to eager, although I was so excited to be at the station and I was ready to get to work.
"Morgan, glad you came back!" He laughed. "Usually we tell people what the job really entails and then we never see them again. We took bets on if you would even come in today."
"Who won?" I asked smiling. It was easy to do around Steve, whose personality radiated fun. He even looked fun. He had matched a pair of jeans with a t-shirt and a blazer overtop. His hair was spiked up and his posture of I-don't-give-a-shit-what-people-think attitude made him look even sexier.
Stop, I thought to myself. I am here to do a job, not get –
"...So, why don't we start there and see what happens?" Steve had been saying something. Shit. I wasn't paying attention.
"Um, sure. Lets get to it!" I said brightly, trying not to stare at his ass. I followed him through a maze of cubicles to a large office that looked like it was supposed to be a conference room. The room was filled with people, I assumed from the station, and talking ceased when we walked in. I guess Steve was the man in charge.
"Hey guys, thanks for coming in." He nodded to a few people and then turned to me. "This is Morgan, the new Promotions girl. Don't rag on her too much and lets try to keep this one for more than a week, okay?" He winked and smiled at me, which I think indicated he was joking. I hope he was anyway.
A moment later two more people entered into the conference room and Steve leaned over to me.
"That short one, that's Michael. The girl, that's Angela." I had heard them both on the radio, but hadn't seen them in person before. Michael didn't seem as short as they always made them out to be. His blond hair was cut choppy in a punk boy band way and his pierced ears reflected the overhead lights. He was cute overall. His ass wasn't bad either.
Angela was a real cutie. She had that girl-next-door look with a tomboy attitude. I know she wasn't the type to put up with anyone's shit, and I knew from the bickering I sometimes heard on air she didn't put up with Michaels. He long brown hair was loose, and she looked very comfortable with the guys wearing jeans and a hair band t-shirt. I knew we would get along great.
"Michael, Angela. This is Morgan," Steve said pointing to me. "She's the new Promotions Directors Assistant." I extended my hand to both, but it was Michael who took it first.
"How you doin'?" he asked in mock accent. "Fresh meat, eh?" I smiled politely, knowing that they could dish it out all they want – I could hold my own and fire off a few myself.
"Don't mind his short ass," Angela said mockingly. "He can't find his own meat so he likes to play with others." The room erupted in laughter and Michael shrugged. I suppose he was used to the banter and it didn't seem that his feelings were too hurt.
"Okay, lets get this meeting going." Steve said, pointing me to a chair. "You just try and keep up as best you can, and if you have questions, feel free to ask." He winked at me as he began talking. I kept up pretty well and asked questions when they seemed important. This wasn't going to be such a hard job.
The following week I was sitting in my cubical, making some calls to local clubs, trying to get Michael and Angela booked for a night. The fans liked to see them out and about, playing bar games and giving stuff away. Everyone wanted free stuff. I had finally gotten acquainted with everyone in the office, and most seemed shocked I was still around. To be honest, it was a fun job, although the hours were sometimes odd.
"Morgan?" I turned to see Michael leaning against the entrance of my cube, carryout bag in hand. "Hungry?"
"Oh, starved!" I reached out for the bag and he handed it over.
"Mind if I sit?" He asked, pulling up a chair.
"Um, no, go ahead. Just watch - " I pulled a pile of papers from the chair, " – the papers."
We sat in contented silence for a while munching on our food. Satisfied I finally put down my sandwich and took a swig of soda. Michael did the same and then began to speak.
"You know, you're not doing to bad of a job." He started. "Usually we scare away all the promotions people within the first day. It's a pretty demanding job."
"Its not too bad," I said. "You guys are really fun to work with."
"Yeah, but we talk a lot of shit and some people can't hang. You're doing good, girl." I smiled at the compliment and said thank you. He went on. "You're not bad to look at either."
"Um, I think that is a compliment." I said laughing.
"Yeah it is. Trust me, I'm not the only one who thinks so." He said. I laughed again.
"Who else could be talking about me already?" My curiosity was peeked.
"Well, if I tell you, what do I get?" Michael asked, leaning back. For a second my eyes got big, wondering just what he expected me to do. I began to tell him where he could go, but he laughed and said, "Just kidding! Kidding! I'll tell you." He looked around and lowered his voice. "Steve."
"Steve?" I asked. I mean, I thought he was totally fuckable, but I never got a vibe from him like that.
"Steve." Michael said again. "He thinks your great, talks about your ass all the time. Between you and me," He lowered his voice again, "Steve wants to bend you over his desk and pull off those tight jeans you're always wearing."
"Steve?" I asked again, just to make sure I understood. I arched my eyebrow when Michael nodded his head. I smiled
"I see your little wheels turning now, girl." Michael said laughing. He collected the trash off my desk and tossed it into the can. "Just remember," he said, leaning over to my ear, "You didn't hear it from me."
Michael walked out of my cubical and left me in contemplation. I had two choices. One, believe that Michael was being truthful and Steve really wanted to fuck me or two Michael was just being an asshole and trying to stir something up for his own entertainment value. I wanted to believe in choice number one, because it had been way too long since I've had something else inside – well, you get the idea.
And even as I sat there, I began feeling the wetness gather in my panties at the thought of Steve bending me over his desk, his hands on my hips, guiding himself inside me, pounding into my tight little –
"Morgan?"
