Employee of the Month

Employee of the Month? Ha! Ask me about being employee of the month. I'll tell you what it means. What, you want to know? Well, it's like this...

I left school at age eighteen and promptly found work in the offices of a small manufacturing company near out town. Very different from school. A teacher you can snow, bringing up all sorts of excuses for not doing something, but not your manager.

Managers tend to be nasty people who expect you to do the work you're paid for. Still, I adjusted. The staff were a friendly lot, and that included the managers and the big boss (once they were satisfied that you will actually work).

The firm had built up little traditions over the years. A couple of these being casual dress day (the first day of each month) and Employee of the Month. Employee of the Month was always announced on casual dress day and we were given this dinky little trophy ($5 for a pack of twelve, I think).

Most of the female staff seemed to favour jeans on casual dress day, these jeans being of varying degrees of tightness. Quite frankly, I can't see how some of the women get into their jeans, let alone get them off again, they're so tight. I saw one of the girls with jeans that looked as though they were sewn into place and I couldn't help wondering what would happen in she got the trots. She'd be in real strife.

Me, while I like jeans, I'm not really comfortable wearing them to work, even if it is casual dress. What I like to wear, especially in the summer, is a shift dress that just covers my butt and brightly coloured tights. I think I look real cute wearing them.

I'd been working for nearly a year and I'd never received one of the Employee of the Month awards. I'd like to think the contest was rigged, but I guess it was really just a case of me not having the experience, but I'm a fast learner and I was getting better all the time.

The first of the month fell on a Friday after I'd been working for nearly a year. That was fine by me because with my casual dress day clothes on I wouldn't need to go home after work but could stay in town and have some fun.

One of the tasks shared amongst the office staff was the job of getting to work early and unlocking the place. This happened to be my week and I arrived bright and early. It's infuriating when someone arrives early and finds whoever is in charge of opening up is dragging their feet, so I make sure I'm not the one to do that.

I was somewhat surprised when I arrived to find the place already open. I waltzed in, checking that the lights were on and that the kettle was full (and on. I wanted coffee) and generally doing the odds and sods that the opener had to do.

I'd already noticed the light on in the boss's office and guessed that he was the early arrival. I was just heading towards my desk when Mr Branis stuck his head out of his office door.

"Ah. Carlene. Just the person I wanted. If you've got a minute?"

I found out very early in the piece that an 'if' from the boss is a polite way of saying 'do this now'. I smiled and headed towards his office.

He ushered me in, closing the door behind me. Sitting on his desk was the little Employee of the Month cup, and I was shrieking inside myself 'Yes!'.

"I like your choice in casual style, Carlene," he told me. "Very colourful."

I smiled and thanked him and waited, because there was no way known that he'd just called me in to say that.

"Ah, yes. I can see you're looking at out little cup and wondering," he said, and there was a smile on his face. "Wonder no more. You've finally got one. Both I and Mr Farqueson are quite pleased with the way you're doing your job and we agreed that you deserve a cup. You may take it home or put it on your desk, as you please."

I was grinning like as loon, and mumbling my thanks. Mr Branis picked up the cup and presented it to me with a smile.

"Now," he said, once I had my greedy paws firmly clasped to that little cup, "I would like to offer proper congratulations."

I blinked at that, because I thought he had. He was still smiling as he took a step towards me, bent down and lifted up the hem of my shift (which wasn't much of a lift. I said it was short), and pulled down my tights and panties.

My jaw just dropped and I took an automatic step backwards. Unfortunately this put me hard up against his desk and my hands automatically went behind me to prop me up so I didn't find myself flat on my back on the desk. I also found myself wanting a couple more pairs of hands, one pair to grab for my tights and another to cover my privates.

I was too shocked to speak for a moment and Mr Branis took that moment to unzip and lean his cock towards me. That's putting it mildly. He had his cock out and was directing it against my slit with an expertise I'd never have guessed at. Before I could say, "No," he was already pushing into me and what should have come out as 'no' came out as 'Oh my god!"

What with the way I was propped back against the desk and the way Mr Branis had pushed my shift up I could look down and actually see his cock pushing into me. And feel it. God, could I feel it. It felt huge. I wasn't ready for it at the start. I mean, how could I possibly have been ready for it? So it felt rough when it first started, but then I juiced up real fast, in shock I suppose, and the damn think was just sliding in real easy.

Now I was trying to gather my wits together to tell him to stop. Wouldn't you? But what I actually appeared to be saying was "Oh my god," repeated frequently and mixed in with that were gasps and squeals and yelps and at least one "Oh, fuck me, what are you doing?"

I knew what he was doing, all right. He was raping me. He might be the boss but that did not give him the right to just pull down my panties and stick it to me, and as soon as I got my head in order I was going to tell him so. Right now I was too busy wriggling and trying to get off that monster he was stuffing into me.

I didn't have a frigging chance. He just happily pushed his cock home, totally ignoring anything I was trying to say, with a big fat cheesy grin on his face. He gave a final push and I gave a final squawk and he was nicely inside me, his hairy groin rubbing against me.

"Might I say that I think you're doing a fine job," Mr Branis said, then before I could say anything sensible, like 'take it out, damn you', he started moving.

I was still, much to my disgust, able to see everything he was doing to me. I could see his cock pulling out and I thought, if I jerk at the right moment he'll pop free and I'll scratch his eyes out if he tries to put it back in, but he stopped a moment too soon and I could see the damn thing pushing back into me.

What was worse was that I could feel what it was doing. As it slowly vanished into me (not that slowly, really. He gave quite a firm thrust.) I could feel it inside me, nosing its way confidently up my passage, acting like a firebug strolling through dry grass. His cock was tossing off little fires as it went, heating me up, and there was nothing I could do to stop them.

He fell into a rhythm real fast, banging away at me in fine style. If I was moving in concert with him it wasn't by choice, I assure you. It just seemed easier on me to move with him. He was fucking away, his cock plunging in and then withdrawing, only to come plunging in again.

I was squeaking and squealing and bouncing under him, still unable to utter a coherent word, first because I was too shocked and then because the bouncing I was undergoing and the excitement that he was causing inside me left me too short of breath. It wasn't that I wanted to feel excitement, but with a cock like that doing its exercises inside me, what could I do?

It turned out that Mr Branis wasn't in too much of a hurry to finish off his congratulations. He just kept on and on, and all this time I'm watching his cock sailing in and out, stirring me, charging in again and again. I wasn't exactly a virgin at the time, but I have to admit it's the first time I've actually watched a cock dancing in and out of me. Oddly erotic, in its own way. Not that I was appreciating it - I wasn't - definitely not. I was just noting that it was different, that's all.

Finally, finally, I got enough breath to speak my mind.

"Mr Branis," I protested, "you can't do this to me."

"Yes, I can," he said, still smiling. "Feel this."

He deliberately slowed down for a moment and then absolutely rammed his cock into me. I squealed and almost went through the roof, and completely lost track of what I was saying. Then I steadied and tried again.

"I mean that you shouldn't be doing this," I gasped. "I never said you could."

"You never said not to," he pointed out, his cock still happily pounding away.

Oh, wow, didn't I? I wasn't exactly given a chance to once he started and before he started it never occurred to me that I'd have to tell him not to fuck me.

"I didn't get a chance to say no," I pointed out angrily. Ever noticed how hard it is to try to talk when a man is fucking your brains out? You have to toss out words between squeaks and squeals and gasps for air, and every other word has a squeak to it as his cock hit home.

"I'm telling you that I want you to stop." I finally got it out.

"Ah, right," he said. "Why didn't you say so earlier? Do you want me to stop right away or fairly soon?"

How was I supposed to know? I could barely think and his cock was still banging away, driving me demented. Stop now or fairly soon? What was the difference? If he stopped now, that was it. Over and done with. If he stopped fairly soon it would probably be after my climax.

"You have to stop fairly soon," I managed to tell him, trying to sound firm.

"No problem," he said.

With that he hooked hold of one of my legs and hoicked it up into the air so I was almost doing splits, then he sort of rolled me over and let my leg go. I was now leaning forward over his desk with him still in me.

That was the point where all hell broke loose. Up to then he'd just been congratulating me. Now he was celebrating with a vengeance. It was as though a jack-hammer had been fastened to his cock and then let loose. He was pounding away like crazy and I just opened my mouth and babbled as my entire body reacted to what was happening.

It didn't last long. There was no way he could have kept up an effort like that for long. If he'd tried it would have been a case of 'hullo, heart attack'. Not that he needed to last long. A few strokes in and I was climaxing. I was shuddering and wrapping myself around his cock, and then it was squirting me, splashing its contents all around inside me.

When I pulled myself together I tried to say something about what had happened. My attempted complaint was just shut off.

"Really, you're making a fuss over nothing," he said. "I stopped as soon as you asked me to, didn't I? Now off to work. Oh, and you should show Mr Farqueson your trophy and thank him."

I'd tidied my clothes while complaining, and it was while doing it that I realised why the rest of the women wore tight jeans as casual wear on Employee of the Month day. There was no way you could start up a congratulation exercise if you can't get her jeans off. I could see myself wearing jeans in future, the tighter the better.

I stopped by Mr Farqueson's office to show him I had my trophy. He smiled and congratulated me and got up off his chair to come around and admire the trophy and shake my hand.

Then he pushed the door closed and said, "I would like to offer you a proper congratulation."