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*Running away only works if you know what you are running from*
(Again, I have to thank a few of my commenters for ideas that I think improve this story immensely)
(I’d also like to say that this is not a story of domination, or someone changing who they are overnight. In this story sex is not a panacea.)
If I had any illusions that my weekend with Mrs. Hardison had earned me anything by end of business Monday they had all evaporated. I had to start up a project, get everyone aware of what I needed from them, and be constantly on call for information I barely knew how to find. I got home to my hovel at ten.
Tuesday I had to set up meetings, go to meetings and deliver a status update to Leslie all before noon. Now that the easy part of my day was over I had to actually get working on the project. In the midst of this I got dragged off to a security briefing I didn’t have to be at and then I got buried in calls explaining to me why people couldn’t do what I wanted to do for the rest of the day. I was home at nine-thirty.
Wednesday was more of the same; pointless meetings, tons of excuses that basically boiled down to me being a jumped-up twerp with no authority and since they didn’t ‘have’ to do it, they weren’t going to do it. I countered with a charm campaign, doing end runs around some of the people giving me crap and personally going to the people I needed to talk to. I was home by eight, but I told my friend the drug dealer on the street corner I was considering his job offer.
Thursday was wonderful. Three people way over my head spent some of their precious time firing off e-mails my way telling me they were going to have my ass for going behind their backs. Two of them threatened to have me fired. I resisted the temptation to tell them to get the fuck in line. Leslie called for an update, I told her I wasn’t done and she told me to bring up what I had. I printed it up and went to face the music.
“Hey,” Leslie smiles to me. She develops a worried expression as she sees the hang-dogged look on my face. “Is it really that bad?” I hand her my work to date. She looks at it and shakes her head. “This isn’t good.” She gets up and goes into Mrs. Hardison’s office. A minute later she steps out and ushers me in.
Gloria Hardison sits behind her Spartan desk with everything a neat arrangement and everything in its place no doubt. She is reviewing my hardcopy; thumbing through what little I have compiled, a strand of her thin black hair slipping along the delicate curve of her cheek. “Why has Mr. Fujiwara’s section not filed any work with you yet?” she says in a clipped tone.
“The long version or the short version,” I respond in a tired voice. I figure I am about to go down in flames. Gloria pierces me with a soul-searing glance. “Long version; his department is busy and he’ll get to it in due time. Short version; he told me to stuff it up my ass,” I explain.
“Leslie, get Mr. Fujiwara in my office immediately,” Mrs. Hardison communicates to her assistant. Gloria goes back to work and I stand around uselessly. My phone rings, I answer it and I have a quick conversation with a co-worker who is actually cooperating. All the while Gloria doesn’t seem to notice I’m in the room.
Even when Fujiwara walks in the room she doesn’t look up until she’s finished whatever she’s working on. “Mr. Fujiwara, do you know Mr. Duarte?” “Yes Mrs. Hardison,” he responds.
“Are you aware of his project?” “Yes I am aware but …” he stammers. “I give you a set number of projects to supervise, I give you a set amount of time to accomplish these goals and I figure in such things as overlap and acceptable delays. This project is an acceptable delay, so why haven’t you been assisting Mr. Duarte?”
“I’ll get right on it,” he says softly. “What strike is this Mr. Fujiwara?” He doesn’t answer. “The answer is three. Clear out your desk and have security process you by end of business. Good day,” she said dismissively. The man stumbles out of the office. This is why she’s called The Bitch.
“If you have any other problems contact Leslie,” she tells me. “Leslie, see that Mr. Fujiwara is removed from the building by five and put a lock on his systems. Inform Harriett List that she’s been temporarily promoted,” Mrs. Hardison says over her mouth piece then gets back to her work. I stand at attention, turn and leave hoping my sweat isn’t showing.
I sometimes forget what a terrible unforgiving bitch she can be, but by the end of business I have people stumbling over themselves to get me what I need. I get home at ten again and I’m really starting to hope I get mugged just so I can sleep it off in some police precinct. I go in early only so I can catch up with all the stuff I should have been doing Tuesday and Wednesday.
At noon Leslie gives me a call and I show up at her desk. I wait for a few people to file out and Gloria’s lunch to arrive before I get ushered in. Again I feel like a fly in a massive spider’s web. “You’ve been putting antalya escort in a great deal of overtime,” she comments without looking up. “Yes Mrs. Hardison, but I’m putting the time to productive use. I hope to have a strong alpha model up by Wednesday.” She looks up and me and I can’t tell if she’s angry or happy; she’s like a robot, cold and pitiless.
“That is acceptable,” she nods. “Friday would have been fine.” “Thank you,” I sigh. “That wasn’t a compliment Mr. Duarte, it was an assessment of the situation,” she says evenly. “So, are you working late tonight?”
“I …” I stammer because there is no way I can judge what the right answers are. “I am … staying … no … I’m leaving on time tonight,” I manage to get out.” She goes back to her work without physically acknowledging my response. “You may go,” she dismisses me.
(Friday Night) I’m working up some stir-fry using the instructions from one of Gloria’s cook books at her place. I think I’m doing it okay, but I haven’t cooked this in three years. I hear noise from the front of the building but I can’t abandon my food so I’m still cooking away when two arms wrap themselves around me and a head presses against my back.
“I still wasn’t sure you would be here,” she murmurs to me. “I wasn’t sure I’d be here Gloria. I’m dog tired,” I answer. I am not going to directly complain about work. In a way it isn’t Gloria’s fault; it is Mrs. Hardison’s. “What are you cooking?” she sniffs.
“I remembered you like Chinese so I got us some fresh produce from the market and I am cooking what I hope will be duck,” I respond. “It smells good,” she sighs as she ran her hands up and down my chest. “Let me go up and change.” I have finished by the time she comes back down in a sweat shirt and shorts; I’m pretty sure she’s braless.
“Damn,” I whisper but she hears me anyway. “What is it?” she questions. “I can’t get over how beautiful you are,” I tell her. She carefully weighs my statement within her intriguingly sharp mind.
“I like that,” she accepts my honesty. “Now I’d like to eat,” she informs me. I dole out two helpings and set the plates down on the table. When she is about to dig in I pull her plate away. “What?” she reacts suspiciously. “Kiss the cook,” I command.
We lock gazes and I can feel her desire to dominate and control me, but there is something else there as well, slowly growing in her mind; it is the desire for companionship. Gloria stands up and leans across table, kissing me. She tastes sweet like ginger on my tongue. I slip her plate back to her and she digs in.
“Good,” she says as she finishes and uses a napkin to dab her lips. “You wouldn’t want to disappoint me tonight.” “Oh, bad day?” I ask cautiously. “Bad week,” she answers. “I have this employee who needs me to hold his hand the entire time. It is really trying. He is in severe need of motivation.”
“What is their boss like? Sometimes the problem is with the leadership,” I suggest. “Oh, the boss in this case is sharp, understanding, and inspirational,” she informs me. “I envy him,” I respond. “My boss is a real ball-buster, tyrant, and uses fear as a motivational technique.” Gloria glares at me.
“Do they have any good qualities?” she warns me. “She’s breathtakingly attractive, sexually demanding, and incredibly intelligent to the point of erotic captivation,” I admit. “Highly intelligent people are often misunderstood by the less gifted,” Gloria points out.
“In my experience the best thing about intelligent people that you are always learning something new and exciting about them,” I tell her. “That works for me, but what do you plan to stay interesting?” she taunts me. “I was planning to read Fifty Shades of Gray for relationship advice,” I grin.
“I’m surprised,” Gloria states. “Are you really interested in that kind of thing?” I ask. “No, I surprised you can read,” is her biting commentary. This make me stand up and come around the table. Gloria stands to meet me and when I put my arms around the small of her back, she put her hands against my shoulders to keep my lips at bay.
“No,” she declares as she keeps me from her. I get within a hair’s breathe of her face and stop. Our eyes meet and neither one of us blinks. “I want you,” I say hoarsely. She shakes her head in the negative. We remain locked until her whole energy changes.
“Kiss me,” she commands. I hesitate but her eyes draw me in. No sooner than our tongues touch does she pull back again and hugs me. “I’ve missed you,” she admits. “Do you know how hard it is to see you at your desk and not come around and kiss you?” I tell her gently.
“I know,” she sighs. “Now that I know what it is like to have your arms around me it is hard to not want to come down to you for a quick hug. When I get home the house feels so empty now.” “I’m a phone call away,” I respond. “I’ve been paying attention to your hours. You need your sleep and I want you to do well … for that tyrant of a boss.”
“Don’t worry about that one; I have a few kemer escort things in mind for her,” I hint at her wickedly. Gloria is clearly torn between her own sexuality and her desire to know and control events. “Can you give me a preview?” she murmurs. “Not right now, but maybe in about an hour after we’ve had a chance to digest our dinners. I have some work to finish anyway,” I groan. Gloria gives me a lingering kiss and smiles.
“Nice dodge Mr. Duarte. Lucky for you I have work to do too,” she concedes. She makes her way to the living room and gets out her computer. I take the time to clean up the kitchen before joining her. She sits on the sofa and I take a seat at her feet. I’m working away when I feel her fingers running through my thick brown hair and I stop to relish the sensation.
Before I can react she stops and I hear her working once more. Promptly one hour later she closes her laptop and nudges me with her foot. “I’m ready,” she informs me. “I’m not,” I reply.
“I don’t care,” she counters. When I don’t move she nudges me again and then a bit harder. “I want to go upstairs,” she insists. I cleverly remain unresponsive and I can hear a deep panther-like rumbling from her but then something changes. She leans forward and whispers in my ear. “If you beat me upstairs you can do whatever you want to me.”
In retrospect I should have known that I was starting off on the floor while she was sitting on the sofa, but I can’t claim the incentive wasn’t worth it. Her eyes are feverish with the rush of victory as she beckons me close once we are in her bedroom. She sits on the bed and opens her legs, drawing me forward. She pushes me down so that I am on my knees.
“What would you have done if I beat you up here?” I have to ask. “Given you whatever you wanted,” she admits. “I knew I should have tripped you,” I mutter. “You would have cheated to get me,” she inquires intently.
“No; when I get you I’ll earn it,” I respond with intensity. I know I’m going to have her one day. She kisses me over much of my face. Gloria reaches out and undoes my tie, pulling it free and using the action to pull me into her bosom. She has me stand and starts unbuttoning my shirt striping me of it in two brutal yanks.
“Come here,” she tells me. As I do she runs her hands over my chest and shoulders breathing and kissing my nipples. I put my hands on her shoulders and a she considers it before giving me the nod. I grasp her sweat shirt and remove it with languid grace. Her breasts swing free with just a hint of sag but in my mind that curvature makes them all the more desirable.
I move to stroke them but she shakes her head. Damn this woman is driving me crazy. She starts working my belt buckle off instead. When my pants fall down; she takes a minute to caress my hard-on through my boxers. “Please,” I beg because my desire has become so strong for her.
“Ssshhh …” she purrs, “I’m getting used to having a lover. I’m getting used to having you. Now finish taking your clothes off,” she says gently. I kneel; take off my shoes then pants. While I’m kneeling before her once more she stands up. She wiggles out of her shorts and just like she had no bra on, she has no underwear on underneath either. I press in and kiss her pubic area. This she allows and puts her hand on my head.
I bring my hand up her thighs until I grabbed hold of her buttocks all the while kissing her and breathing in deeply of her musk. Gloria rocks back and forth and this allows me to lick her labia with a quick jabs of my tongue. I move one of her legs up on the bed so she is balancing on the other, allowing me better access her pussy; now I have full contact along the entire length.
“Good boy,” she murmurs. “That’s it.” I rub my lower lip along her labia and drive my tongue into her until she shakes. Now I pull back and Gloria looks down on me with some consternation. “Who is fucking who?” I taunt her with her fluids on my lips. “Don’t stop,” she demands. I stick a finger into her and swirl it around until she gasps.
“Who is fucking who?” I repeat. “Damn you,” she whispers. I stop moving my finger around and she groans. “You are fucking me,” she confesses desperately. I willfully return my attentions to her pussy. With fingers, lips, tongue and teeth I have her gasping and pushing my head in.
She keeps pushing into my mouth and I keep pressing back setting us in a rocking motion that permits me to delve even deeper. “Eddie,” she mewls which suggests to me she wants the tease and not the climax. I take it nice and easy and she rewards me with some heavy breathing.
“Lower,” she whispers. I lick lower until I’m at the end of her pussy. “Lower,” she repeats with eager gasps. I start to wonder where this is going, but I not lick beneath cunt going farther and farther back until my neck hurts and my tongue touches her anus. “Oh,” she groans loudly, “Yes.” I pull back.
“I’m not sure about this,” I inform her. “Continue,” she urges me. konyaaltı escort When I still look hesitant she adds, “Please.” My experiences with anal sex consist of one drunken night with a rather kinky girl. That Gloria would be into this is mind-blowing. I try to go back in but the angle is too uncomfortable so I quickly figure out that I need to wet two fingers and start pushing one in.
This gets her heart racing and her breath is becoming deep and ragged. I start sucking and nibbling all along her pussy letting my tongue dance around and leaving no velvety fold neglected. The leg supporting her weight starts trembling and the vibrations creep up her body. When she starts to convulse I try to hold her up with my own free hand.
I fail and she falls back on the bed. I pull my finger out of her anus while I kiss my way up her stomach. “I cannot remember anyone else touching me in such a way and giving me such pleasure,” she lauds me. I guess that is a version of thank you. I kiss my way up to her breastbone and coax a response from one of her nipples with my fingers. I’m still between her legs and I’m close to entering her.
“Not right now,” she says with more compassion than normal. I roll to the side and scoot up beside her. Unbidden she rolls into me and puts a hand on my stomach. She looks over for some time before tears well up in her eyes filled with pain and self-loathing. I try to hold her close but she stops me.
“Why?” she starts to sob. I feel I know what this means. “You have so much to work through Gloria. You can’t hope that is something that is going to be over in one day, one week, or one month,” I tell her. “It hurts so much and I hate feeling this way … weak. I’m not weak,” she seethes. “Why did you do to this me?”
“I don’t think I can express how much it hurts me to see the pain in your eyes right now,” I apologize. “You are not weak; in fact you are the strongest woman I know. I’m not going to let you down and I’m going to do whatever it takes for you to get through this.” She puts her head on my chest, tears slowly rolling down on me.
“Damn it,” she sobs softly. “I used to love without reservation. I find myself wanting to pull away and drive you out, but I want you to stay as well. It is crazy.” “Thanks for taking me back. Walking out on you was the hardest thing I’ve ever done,” I confess. We stay together for what me a half an hour before her self-control wins out of her anguish.
“I want to go to sleep now,” she sniffles. “Go get me a nightshirt — top drawer.” I obediently get out of bed then an idea occurs to me. I reach down, pick up my dress shirt and toss it to her. “Funny,” she snorts. We look at each other before she sighs and puts it on. She turns over, crawls beneath the covers and rolls onto her side away from me. I cut off the lights and join her, but not a word is spoken before we both drift off to sleep.
(Saturday) I’m not sure what makes me wake up, but the first hints of sunrise are pushing aside the night sky when I do. I look over, noticing that she’s moved closer to me and rolled onto her back, the pale pink skin of her face and chest contrasted with her free-flowing black hair. I turn over onto my elbow and kiss her lightly on the lips. She smiles and murmurs so I kiss her again; she responds by moving closer to me.
I have a decision to make; I could gently shake her awake or I could experiment with the boundaries we’ve set up — how much sex is too much. I nudge the shirt aside exposing a nipple. I tickle it with my tongue getting an instant reaction and a slight intake of breathe. I move with a little more passion and she starts to squirm.
I kiss my way down to her belly button and give it light touches with the tongue. I move a hand down and she’s wet and sexually ready. I rise up over her carefully moving her legs aside before letting my penis touch her pussy. She moans, thrusts her hips up incrementally and lets me press past her lips. I push deeper with incredible care with her breathe deepening.
“Ummm, that feels nice,” she moans sleepily; “morning sex.” “I was afraid I’d freak you out, but I wanted to make you happy too,” I say. She wraps her arms around my neck and starts pushing back against my thrusts. “I approve of your initiative Mr. Duarte,” she sighs with pleasure.
I thrust with more urgency until I see her lazy smile turn into panic. “Wait! Put on a rubber,” he demands. “What … I,” I stammer. “I’m not on the pill,” he explains. Oh crap!
“The side drawer,” she instruct hastily. As concern rushes over me I feel her still thrusting against me. I reluctantly pull out and then race for the brand new box of prophylactics. Gloria is doing a little self-stimulation until I station myself back between her legs. She bites her lip and looks at me with a seductive and devilish expression meant to drive me crazy with lust. I happily enter her welcoming vagina once more.
“Oh God,” she greets me. “Yes, keep at it,” she urges me on as she once more wraps her arms around my neck and captivates me with her hungry gaze. “Do you like this?” she taunts. “I can’t get enough of you Gloria. I don’t want this to ever stop,” I respond. “Good boy,” she coos. I can sense her getting off on her newfound sexual control both emotionally and physically.
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