The Training Manager's Privileges

The watchman opened the gate to allow the car in. It was a steep hill for a few meters before it turned to the right along the building in which the computer company occupied the whole of the ground floor, and half of the first floor. The car parked at the far end of the building at the reserved slot, in which only the senior members of staff were allowed. The company owner's car had a slot reserved next to which his wife would park. Except for Hunja and three other managers, all ordinary staff were supposed to find parking at the back of the building.

He locked the car and strode towards the entrance, an elegant, trim figure in a black suit. He was a light-skinned fellow, tending to light oak. Some speculated that he was halfcaste, but that was not true in the least; both his parents were indigenous. His cigarette as usual was hanging from the corner of his mouth.

"Good morning Agnes!" His voice carried authority behind its habitual hoarseness from too much smoking.

"Good morning Hunja!" the tall woman replied from behind her desk. She was the executive secretary to the Sales Director, but Hunja insisted on pretending she was his personal assistant, a ploy that Agnes tolerated with good humour. "A few letters for you," she said as she handed him a number of envelopes, one of which was a large brown one.

"Thank you!" He strode into the Training Centre. Monica, the training assistant, who was more properly his assistant rose from behind the desk at the front where she had been setting up the overhead projector in preparation for a presentation to be held in the Centre for executives of the Power Company.

"Why is this bag on my desk? Do I carry handbags?" His voice held a growl.

Monicah rushed to retrieve her handbag from where she had been working. "I am sorry, sir," said she meekly.

He sat down at his desk and demanded of the girl to open the envelopes, but not to look into the contents. He read them one by one, muttering threateningly under his breath at one or two of them. The catalogue from the large envelope changed his mood abruptly. He had been waiting for it from Apple's headquarters in Cupertino since the last week. He settled down to peruse its contents, in the space of time before the presentation started.

"What are you doing, Monica?" he asked a bit later without looking up.

"I am organising the materials used by students yesterday."

"In that case you can organise a cup of tea for me." She went in search of the catering lady whose duty it was to serve tea at 10am. But now Hunja wanted his earlier than that.

After a short while Anne, the Sales Director came in. The presentation was to show off the IBX Radix, a device that would allow field workers to take all kinds of records of their work. It could be easily tailored to take meter readings for the Water department or as in the case today, for the Power and Lighting Company.

"All ready to show these people how to bill us more efficiently?" she asked with a smirk.

"I still can't tell how Talib roped you in to this project." Salim Talib was the owner of the firm.

"Don't make me remind you that you came running to get involved. Did you know it would come back to bite you?" Anne mocked him.

They broke into companionable laughter, knowing that if the device sold well, they would receive handsome sales commissions, even though, strictly speaking, Hunja's remit was not Sales. And that depended upon them pulling off the coming presentation.

As the officials of PLC left after the event, the two were standing at the entrance to the Training Centre.

"Thank you for your support, Hunja," said Anne. "The use of the Centre allowed the company to make a good impression."

"Your performance was sterling," he answered. "That initial order of 100 units was more than we had hoped for. The boss will be more than pleased." Then a crooked smile appeared. "You will have to share your commissions with me, mark you!"

She heard the smile in the tone of voice rather than saw it. "Yeah, right! In your dreams." They chuckled as Anne left for the Showroom in the Sales Department to see if any prospective customers had come in for a demo. Usually the computers there were kept busy by the sales staff showing off features of software tailored for various professions. It would be no surprise to find an accounting package being put through its paces, alongside a drawing and illustration one at the next computer. Another could be showing the features of a publication package. She was an energetic, short woman who liked to wear mini skirts to show off her very shapely hips and legs. Her track record of sales was no doubt due to her dressing as well as to her professionalism.

Hunja sat at his desk, making a few phone calls. "I will see you at the Pavilion after work, my dear!" as he concluded the last one.

Lunchtime had come. The Engineering Manager, Majid came to ask Hunja if he was going anywhere for lunch. They took the short walk to the restaurant nearby, not wanting to deal with parking hassle.

"I hear the presentation for the Radix went off very well?" began Majid.

"Yeah, like a dream. Anne was at her best in her presentation. Mine was not horrible either."

"Did they look like hooked? Will they bite?"

Hunja lay his fork back on his plate. "Like how! We have an order for one hundred units right away. We will eventually sell a thousand or more for their meter readers countrywide."

"No wonder old man Talib was whistling in the toilet. He didn't think anybody would hear him."

They walked back at a leisurely pace. "I have done almost no other work today apart from taking a Radix apart to get at its innards. Fascinating little devil," Majid said as he went upstairs to his department.

Hunja found a 'While you were away' note on his desk. It was Anne, so he called her extension. "What are you doing this evening?" she asked immediately.

Not wanting to reveal he already had a date, he temporised. "My car was making a strange noise from last night. I think it sounded like the differential. I have booked the garage at 6pm. I don't know what time they will finish."

"When were we out last? You have become too busy, man!"

"Are you missing the fiery cannon?"

"Stop teasing me like that, yet you have denied me all this time." A pang of guilt shot through him at these words.

He needed to cut short this conversation on the office intercom. "I will make it up to you. I promise!"

On the dot of 5 he was out of the door. "Good night, Agnes!"

"Oh my, we are in a hurry tonight!" she teased him. For reward she got a hard stare, before he stepped through the door and headed to the parking. In minutes the watchman was opening the gate as the car came down the slope.

He arrived at the Club after a short drive, through back roads to avoid the building traffic jams. His favorite waiter came immediately, from whom he ordered his drink. He sat sipping it slowly as he waited for Hellen to arrive.

"How did you get here before me?" a voice asked behind him.

He spun round to face the tall, slender woman of dark complexion. She was also well-endowed in the chest. She sat down opposite him. "I am a veteran driver in this city. Don't you know that?"

The waiter appeared as if from nowhere. She ordered her drink as well. She told him of the latest advances in telecommunications, with the newest, faster modems than ever before. His hand was under the table fondling her thigh while they talked. He felt his cock begin to stretch as soon as he felt her flesh under her dress. He was dying to tell her of their coup that morning, even though the memory of Anne gave him slight pause.

He did tell her of the Radix's abilities which Hellen was sure to understand with her technical mind.

"Shall we have dinner here, or later?" he asked her at length.

"Why don't we go to my place and you can make me that fish dish? I have a whole tilapia in the fridge." So they did.

He only left her after 9pm. She did not want to release him after dinner, and dragged him to bed. "You heat me up like that at the Pavilion, then you want to leave me high and dry?" These were words to send any man into a tailspin of desire.

They shed their clothes in short order. His cock was pointing up like an Atlas rocket on the launchpad at Cape Kennedy. They melted their bodies into each other and collapsed onto the bed without the crutch of foreplay. Supporting himself on one elbow he eased his cock to her lips ready to drill into her. Two or three strokes and he sank into her wet, inviting cunt. He started vigorous stroking but she slowed him down.

"Not so hard. Not so fast, sweetie." He gave her long lazy strokes, sometimes angling it to rub against her clit, which sent her on that collision course with a violent orgasm. She clenched her teeth, growled like a caged animal as her orgasm crashed into her. It left her limp, but sparked his climax. He poured enough to fill Owen Falls Dam.

**********************

"Monica! Please come here!" The voice sounded like a roar, so hard it was. The girl dropped the cassettes she was arranging according the courses they belonged to, and went to his desk. "Have you laid out the notes for IBX Radix training? I need to proof them before you print."

"Yes." She bent over his desk to retrieve them from under papers, leaflets and letters that he had read. As she did he tickled the back of her thigh, causing her to stamp slightly from ticklishness, but she did not dare move away. "Here they are, sir!"

He took them up and began to read them through without bothering to dismiss her back to her other duties. She crept away before she heard his harsh voice demanding what she was still doing there.

As she worked she longed for the voice he used on the Sales Director, or on some phone calls. It revealed that he had a soft spot in him somewhere. She did not like his steely, cold voice, which he used on her more often than not. She wished he would like her, instead of treating her like a serf. He was reputed to be a womaniser par excellence and she hoped he would not demand that she go to bed with him without any consideration for her feelings.

He took Anne to lunch that day and was so concerned about her work that she felt that he was repentant for having treated her with less than kindness in the last one or two weeks. When he started fondling her thighs and waist as they ate she felt that he had turned away from his wicked ways. How wicked, she would not have dared to believe. That weekend they were back in bed.

He had taken her out to dinner on the Friday, then asked to follow him to his place in her car. She knew what would take place and she was ready for it. Nay, even eager.

Because of a few bottles of beer he had swallowed, to her two glasses of a sweet wine, he was amorous without being too drunk.

He played with her tiny tits, sucked them and made to swallow them whole. She gripped his cock, squeezing and massaging it eager for the moment he was going to enter her. Which he did after a brief foreplay. Her shapely thighs parted to let him into her cunt, into which he drilled like a borehole machine. She could feel his insistent cock buried deep into her.

"Don't treat me softly like a nun. Fuck me hard, you son of a gun!" He picked up speed, his long cock coming out into the cold air and diving back in. She kept chewing his shoulder muscles and driving him hard with her words. Finally he could take no more. His dam burst.

Spurt after spurt of semen rushed out of his balls and into her receptive vagina. This tipped her over as well. Her short legs clamped him tightly as she slammed into orgasm so powerfully. She had become a glutton for his strong mode of fucking, which no other man had proved to be able to give her. She liked a man who came on strong and finished strong, and only Hunja had proved to fit the bill.

They came down gradually as their breathing quitened. "Rest for about an hour then you can take me back to that wonderful shore," she told him gently.