Under New Management (closed)

[saedo]

Closed for Angeleyz


I looked out the window while I listened to Trisha run through today's agenda. "The R&D preliminaries are here. Susan said the data is a bit raw, but that they're compiling into something more readable. Should have something suitable for PowerPoint on Monday. I'll call first thing if it's not here. "

"Sounds good." I responded. I once again said a small thank you that I'd found an assistant as good as Trisha. Given my bachelor status, I'm sure many thought I'd picked her for looks - jet black hair, lovely Asian features, curvaceous body. The truth was that Ms. Takanawa was the best damn assistant I'd ever had. Efficient, organized, and attentive to detail - everything I could ask for.

She went through the rest of the list with mechanical precision, checking off our progress as we went. At last she ended with, "... and then you have the status meeting with Mrs. Bowen at 4."

I nodded. "Okay, sounds like a simple Friday. I'll get started on the R&D numbers." I reached for the report and flipped it open. Then I realized that Trisha was still standing in front of my heavy oak desk. She had her head tilted to her left - her "I'm pondering something" pose.* "Something I do for you, Trisha?"

"Mr. Trask, do you think Mrs. Bowen is attractive?"

Hadn't been expecting that line of questioning. I leaned back into the supple leather of my chair and regarded her for a second. "Okay, I'll bite. Sure, she's attractive. So?"

Trisha grinned mischievously - never a good sign. "In truth, you'd say she was a smoking hot piece of ass, right?"

I raised a critical eyebrow at her bluntness, but Trisha and I did have the usual boss/employee dynamic. As such, she had a lot more latitude to say such things.

Also, she wasn't wrong. If you liked curvaceous women, Samantha Bowen was an absolutely phenomenal piece of ass. If you liked your breasts big - and I certainly did - you'd be hard pressed to do better than her incredible orbs. Couple that with a heart-shaped ass and you had a body seemingly designed for porn stardom. Yet atop that voluptuous figure lurked a top notch mind. With her personality and drive, I fully expected she'd be management within a couple years and probably an executive before she turned 40.* Helluva woman.

"Let's say that I do," I countered. "So what?"

Trisha grinned like the cat who just caught the canary. "So I know you haven't been seeing anyone lately and here's this hot piece of ass asking you out and you keep giving her the brush-off. What's up with that?"

My eyebrow raised itself to full incredulity. "Say what?! First off, she's married - with a kid, no less! Secondly-"

Trisha snorted derisively. "Please, as if you've never slept with a married woman before."

"Not deliberately! And as I was saying, m' 'secondly, Samantha Bowenhas never asked me out!"

Trisha rolled her brown eyes at me. "Honestly, for a man who gets almost as many women as I do, you're strikingly unintuitive. You'd make a lousy lesbian. "

I smirked. "I'm not sure that's a bad thing."

"Har de har har.* What I'm saying is that she didn't ask you out in so many words, but she's sending off tons of signals. For example, she always schedules these meetings towards the weekend and at the end of the day. Why? Because that's when folks start going out for drinks.

"Also, she always likes to mention how her husband is traveling for work, meaning she's home alone not getting any action. And when she says she hardly goes out anymore or that she could use a drink, she's saying she's eager and available to do just that."

"Eh heh," I acknowledged. "But I'm at least a decade older and she certainly doesn't lack for male attention.* Just the other week I saw what's name - the guy who played power forward at Penn - walk into a desk because he was too busy watching her ass to look where he was going. She could have any those young bucks she wanted in a heartbeat. "

Trisha smiled gently. "That's just it, though. You'd never do that. You've got too much self-control.* I've seen you in those meetings.* She's got that pretty smile and killer boobs right in front of you. You see them and she knows you see them, but does it distract you? Not a bit. You don't stare or drool or forget how to talk. You run things like a Swiss watch. And I'd you find a mistake, you don't bat an eye at letting her know about it.

"And women like that?" I queried.

"Women like her do. If I'm reading her right, she's got a bit of a submissive bent. She's aggressive and tough at work because she has to be. But I bet when the lights get low and the clothes come off, she wants to be able to let go the reins and let someone else be in control.

"That's why she needs someone like you. She can't be comfortable giving up control to just any moron. She needs someone strong and confident - someone she can trust. A guy who can't control himself on his libido around her isn't trustworthy. But someone like you.... hard to imagine better."

I smiled despite myself. "Duly noted. I'll think about it.

"Oh c'mon, you really have-" Trisha began.

I waved my hand to interrupt her. "I have it on good authority that confidence and discipline are appealing in a man. To that end, let me confidently assure you that I will think about it. Then I shall show my discipline by attending to my work - as should you."

"Yes, sir," she said with a soft smile before leaving my office.

~~~~~~
Trisha's words remained with me the rest of the day. Even as I sat across from Samantha Bowen that afternoon, I found a part of me pondering whether I'd been overlooking a great opportunity. By meeting's end, I has decided to put Trisha's supposition to the test.

As I walked Samantha to the elevators, I altered my usual departing repartee. "Thank you for your report, Samantha. Efficient as always. Do you know Morton's Tavern?"

She nodded at the name of the upscale local watering hole.

"Good," I continued. "I feel like a drink. 6:30 tonight. You should come." With that, I turned and walked away.

 

[Angeleyz]

Samantha Bowen sat in the rocking chair, her 6 month old daughter latched onto her right breast and slowly rocked back and forth. She enjoyed these early-morning feedings with Mia not only because they helped further their mother-daughter connection but sadly because it gave her time to plan out what she wanted to accomplish at work that day. She winced a little as Mia suckled harder than she had been expecting. "Easy there, sweet pea," Samantha cooed as she shifted in the chair.

Stroking the jet black, baby fine hair, she leaned her head against the back of the chair and tried not to dwell on her growing frustration. Mike had better get over this whole damn Madonna complex that he had at the moment. She was tired of being in a constant state horniness, and his inability to see her as anything more than the mother of his child was going to kill her! Her breasts were so full, so sensitive these days... She could damn near orgasm while pumping at work if she closed her eyes and pretended a certain someone was playing with them.

Perhaps it was time to start weaning Mia off of breast milk. Sure nursing had helped whittle off the pregnancy weight, but maybe stopping would help Mike start seeing her as more than a food source / caretaker for Mia. Plus it was becoming more and more difficult finding time to pump at work, and Samantha had to admit that she didn't want to give anyone the impression that she had lost her edge just because she had a baby, nor that she'd be looking for special allowances because of it. She had been having to sneak around to find places where she could pump discreetly and was having to work longer to make up for those times.

~~~~~~~~~~​

Walking around in a matching black lace bra and panties while considering what to wear to work, Samantha went through the various outfits in her walk-in closet before she decided to go for something a little more conservative than she had been wearing recently. While she always wanted to look her best for her meetings with Mr. Trask, she was afraid that someone might notice her growing work crush. Rolling her eyes at herself, she selected a double-breasted pantsuit that hugged her curves without being over the top and paired it with a dusty rose shell.

Slipping it on and turning around, she looked at herself critically in the full-length mirror in her room. 'Not too bad, Sammie girl,' she thought to herself, 'not too bad.' She had worked out religiously after giving birth to Mia and you'd never know she was a new mom from behind. Turning back to the mirror, she wrinkled her nose slightly and wondered whether or not the outfit called a little too much attention to her chest. She had always been blessed in the chest department... The running family joke was that they had been saving up for generations for her; however, she had struggled to find tops that didn't scream Look at my boobies! to her co-workers.

~~~~~~~~~~~​

"Efficient as always..."

Samantha flashed Mr. Traska a wide smile, knowing that while he was generous in his praise, that he didn't do it often. She had been unusually nervous at today's session and she wasn't sure why. Perhaps it has been the almost speculative look his assistant, Trisha, had given her when she had shown up 10 minutes early. She had snuck in a pumping session before arriving because she had been unusually full, and had lost track of time because her watch stopped working.

The actual meeting itself had gone very well. Samantha always enjoyed the sessions with Mr. Trask. He was charismatic, intelligent and good looking to boot. He was probably the only male in the entire company who didn't leer at her, stare at her ass or attempt to look down her shirt. Unfortunately he was also starting to appear quite regularly in her fantasies when she was playing with her toys late at night once Mike went to sleep.

... 6:30 tonight. You should come.

"Wait...what?" Samantha called after Mr. Trask, dumbfounded.

 

[saedo]

I half turned. "Oh yes, the where. Downstairs, out front. I'll have my driver pick us up." I gave her a full body a perfunctory glance. "What you're wearing is fine. See you in 30."

I raised a querying eyebrow at Trisha as I passed her desk. Though she'd been nowhere to be seen a moment ago, I didn't doubt for a second that she'd heard every word. My assistant gave me nothing but a quiet smile in response.

I tidied up my desk and double checked my appearance in a mirror I keep for just such occasions. Perhaps Trisha was right - handsome in a certain light.

Samantha met me downstairs at the arranged time. I could see she was a little anxious, but I hoped that was just from being caught off guard rather than reluctance. Her dark hair looked recently arranged and I wagered the makeup had been freshened as well.

Once inside the back seat of the Audi, I directed Reggie to the Club. I kept Samantha occupied with some banal discussion of the weather. A veteran of long elevator rides with chatty strangers, I'd reach Seinfeld-ian levels in my ability to talk about nothing.

I escorted her inside The Marten with a light touch on her lower back. Stepping inside the inner doors was almost like stepping back in time. The quiet opulence of the interior bespoke an elegance from an earlier age.

The steward tilted forward at the waist. "Good evening, Mister Trask." Ricardo's Chilean accent lightly tinted each syllable. "Your usual, sir?"

"Make it two. Mrs. Bowen will be joining me."

Ricardo nodded as I'd just said something terrifically incisive. "Very good, sir." He stepped from behind his desk and held open the door.

By day, the main room at The Marten was bright and airy, but by night it grew dark and subtle. The tables and chairs were now on islands of warm light surrounded by a twilight gloom. The contrast lent everything a sense of quiet privacy. Though I suspected most of the conversations occurring in this room concerned mundane topics like the stock market or sports, I always feel this was the perfect room for conducting espionage.

I settled into one of the ancient high backed chairs. The leather creaked only slightly as I sank into the deep comfort. I gestured for Samantha to join me in a chair opposite me. The chairs stood close enough to put our knees in proximity.

We'd been seated but a moment when a waiter appeared. He set down two tumblers on a nearby end table and disappeared.

I picked up mine and regarded as the dark brown liquid inside, enjoying the heft of the crystal in my hand. Satisfied, I took a small swallow. The whisky was smooth as silk and had only the slightest bite. I did not hew to the school of thought that good whisky must smoke on the way down.

I turned to my guest. The combination of light and shadow did some interesting things to her profile. "It occurs to me that after all our months of weekly meetings, I know comparatively little about your life. Tell me about yourself."

I let Samantha rattle off a few highlights. "No, I don't care for a recitation of your resume. Tell me about you."

 

[Angeleyz]

Samantha tried not to feel like a schoolgirl being asked out to her first dance, but she was almost giddy with excitement at Mr. Trask's invitation. She walked towards the women's washroom as she called her husband.

"Hi, Mike... It's Sam," she began almost hesitantly, afraid he'd disagree, "I was invited out for a drink with one of the executives at work. It's pretty important that I go seeing as how long I stayed out on maternity leave. There should be plenty of milk pops in the freezer to tide Mia over until I get home. Is that okay with you?"

Samantha was relieved when Mike agreed to the plan, even if it sounded like they'd end up discussing things when she got home. Mike didn't seem to understand her desire to excel at both her career and motherhood. If he had his way, she'd probably be in some boring job that didn't challenge her in the least, just so that she could be home at reasonable hours.

She tidied her hair and applied a fresh coat of lipstick, and walked out just as Mr. Trask's assistant was entering the washroom. "Have a good evening, Trisha," Samantha said politely, and once again tried not to feel self conscious at the half smile she was given.

Meeting Mr. Trask in the lobby as directed, Samantha continued to worry about the odd vibes she was getting from Trisha. She tried not to babble nervously in the car and decided to just follow his lead for the moment. If anything, she was rather content to let him lead her around, never batting an eyelash when he ordered a drink for him... Something she had never allowed anyone to do, not even Mike.

When asked to tell him a little about herself, Samantha started rattling off the obligatory notes from her resume. She was a little nonplussed when Mr. Trask interrupted her and said that he was more interested in knowing about her life. Smiling a little self consciously, she said, "Well as you know, I came back from maternity leave about two months ago. My daughter Mia will be six months next week. When I'm not working or spending time with my daughter, I enjoy playing soccer, reading and watching hockey games."

Samantha wrapped her fingers around the glass in front of her, afraid to take a sip. With her luck, she'd end up buzzed and saying things that were best not said. Tilting her head to the side, she murmured, "And you, Mr. Trask... Tell me a little about yourself...".

 

[saedo]

"Ah, your first child. How nice." I responded, as if I hadn't heard her question. If Trisha was right, I should be the one directing the conversation. "The first time is quite magical. Lauren, my former wife, rather enjoyed having a newborn."

"Of course, it wasn't all honey and roses. Our little Maribel had quite the set of lungs on her. When she was wet or hungry, believe me, she'd let you know. Surprising how much noise something that small can make."

"My wife had it a bit rougher than I, though, I must admit. After her maternity leave ended, she went back to work. Hard part for her was that she was also breastfeeding at the time. Now fortunately Lauren was quite the producer. " I chuckled softly. "Little Maribel couldn't quite keep up, no matter how big her appetite. As such, it wasn't hard to have plenty of fresh stock on hand.

"No, the tricky part was that her job could get pretty strenuous during the day. When things got moving, it was hard to find time to take a break. But given her condition, not taking a break could be a significant strain. She used to tell me how it felt, all that milk backing up, feeling so swollen she was about to pop." I shook my head. "Poor thing would give most anything just for a chance to 'relieve the pressure'."

My gaze returned to Samantha's, curious how she would react. "So how are you enjoying motherhood?"

 

[Angeleyz]

Samantha smiled as she recalled the first couple of weeks adjusting to the little fusserbudget. Mia had certainly kept them on their toes with her demands. She had initially scared her to death with her constant sleeping, making it difficult to get into a good feeding routine. The little bugger could even sleep through a cold wash rag being applied to her body, but once she decided she was hungry... Good lord, it was like being hooked up to a vacuum cleaner.

Samantha felt her smile freeze when Mr. Trask started speaking about his ex's difficulties with breast feeding once she went back to work. It wasn't something that she thought she should really discuss with a co-worker, and his words reminded her that she was going to need to feed Mia sooner than later. She wasn't sure if it was just his words, but her breasts were starting to get that familiar tingle.

She had to clear her throat a couple of times before she was able to huskily say, "I've been very blessed. My pregnancy was easy - I was only tired, never suffered from the normal morning sickness bit. We did have some adjusting to do when Mia was born. My wee one first wanted to do nothing but sleep, and now... She seems to do nothing but eat." She cut herself off before she said anything about knowing what it was like tobe willing to give anything to get some relief... There were some lines that one didn't cross at work, weren't there?

 

[saedo]

"Oh, I can remember the crazy sleep schedules. I'm not sure I knew Maribel had green eyes for awhile because she was always sleeping. Then she was waking up at all hours for feedings."

I shook my head in commiseration. "I tried to help out, but Lauren preferred we not use bottles as much as possible. She got a but more flexible the second time around, though - all those late night feedings didn't seem quite so tolerable."

"Kevin, my son, was really a handful at that age. Maribel usually got hungry not long after Lauren usually got home, but Kevin's internal clock was set ahead a couple hours. He'd start crying for dinner well before Lauren could get there, so the nanny would give him a bottle. So while Lauren could always count on Maribel to ease her load at the end of the day, Kevin wasn't quite so helpful. I'd often find Lauren at home at the end of the day just begging for relief."

"Still, there were certain advantages to it happening this way. No doubt you're familiar with the sensation of letting down. Naturally this includes relief of the discomfort from releasing that pressure.

"In my former wife's case, though, it was more than mere relief. She found the release, coupled with suckling sensation.... " I paused as if searching for my words. I waited till I had Samantha's full attention before continuing. "...intensely pleasurable."

There was a subtle shift in Samantha's features. She clearly knew what I meant by "pleasurable". But was she quietly acknowledging she was personally familiar with finding sexual pleasure from breastfeeding? Or was she embarrassed that I'd even mentioned the subject? Too hard to tell

"Consequently, there were certain complications to relieving the pressure during the day. While it might ease the discomfort, the resulting sensations could be quite powerful.... Things sometimes got ... messy." I paused for a moment. "And loud. Very loud." I grinned slyly.

"Fortunately, Lauren had help available. She knew she could always come to me for assistance." I tapped my finger on the table for emphasis. "So very important that a young mother has support like that available. Not that a woman can't do such things on her own, of course. But such acts are always... better... with a helping hand. She just has to be willing to ask...."

I signaled for a refill and turned back to Samantha. "Anything more you want? Just say the word...."

 

[Angeleyz]

Samantha smiled at Mr. Trask's recollection of not necessarily knowing what color his daughter's eyes were as Mike had a similar complaint early on with Mia's. As he kept talking, describing his ex's difficulties with their son's feelings, she initially shifted nervously in her chair as her nipples began responding to his words. The more he talked, the more she listened in rapt attention.

... intensely pleasurable...​

Her eyes half closed, Tina wasn't aware that her lips had parted.

... powerful... ​

Her breath caught.

... messy... ​

She swore her nipples couldn't get harder, and then they proved her wrong.

... Loud, very loud... ​

Swallowing hard, Tina fought against her desire to rub her nipples along the side on the table.

... helping hand...​

So caught up in his words and her body's reaction, Tina said aloud "Lucky girl." It was a long moment or two before she realized that she hadn't simply thought it to herself. Eyes widening, she took a big gulp from the glass in front of her before she blurted out, "I mean I've heard.... Heard that... some women find it very... um... ero.... I mean pleasurable... I mean like it... um delayed breast feeding that is."

Embarrassed, Samantha found that she couldn't look him in the eyes and her grazed dropped to his lips. But staring at his lips made her picture things that she had no business picturing except maybe late at night when Mike had fallen asleep and her toys were out. Cheeks pinkening, Samantha forced herself to stop staring at his lips, only to find herself admiring his strong looking hands and wondering what they'd feel like stroking, caressing, kneading her breasts.

Tossing back the rest of the glass' contents, Samantha struggled to find her composure before she begged Mr. Trask to help her find the relief that he had so poetically described.

 

[saedo]

I resisted the urge to smile as I watched Samantha throughout my narrative. Earlier I had wondered if perhaps I'd taken the wrong tack with her. She'd seemed calm as I'd begun shifting into matters more intimate in nature - almost detached.

Fortunately, the efficacy of my words became all too apparent. Samantha's breathing shifted; I could see her nostrils flare ever so slightly with the force of her inhales. A tinge of color seeped into her skin. She fidgeted in her chair - clearly displacing the urge to do something else.

Particularly noticeable were her nipples. Given her formal attire, I'd never have expected such a thing to be noticeable through that many layers. But midway through my diatribe, a pair of dents in her dark suit appeared and expanded. I found a thickening surge of my own in my pants at the thought of what lurked beneath.

"I mean I've heard.... Heard that... some women find it very... um... ero.... I mean pleasurable... I mean like it... um delayed breast feeding that is."

I hid my smile at her words behind a swallow of my whisky. I definitely had her nibbling at the bait. But I couldn't set the hook unless she bit down hard. I needed to make her choose to go where I wanted.

I tipped my head to the side as if carefully mulling over her words. "You speak as if you don't know from personal experience. If so, that is indeed unfortunate. A woman should not be denied such delight."

I narrowed my eyes. "Is it perhaps not you, but the lack of a willing partner that has frustrated your exploration of such possibilities?" I knew well from countless locker room conversations that not every man shared my appreciation for these things. Perhaps her husband fell into this camp. Given the signals she'd been broadcasting, the odds favored that not everything was satisfactory at home.

"No, no," I added swiftly before she could respond. "Don't tell me. I do not wish to pry into your privacy."

I swirled my drink and took another swallow before continuing. "Let me instead just say that if you might wish an experienced hand to... assist you... in this fashion, then I will volunteer my services."

I reached into my suit pocket and retrieved my phone. I thumbed through the menu to the calendar. "Let's see. Hmm. Definitely not Monday.... Ah, but Tuesday should work." I lifted my gaze to hers. "If you would like my assistance in this matter, drop by my office at 5:30 PM this Tuesday. You may feed your daughter that morning, but otherwise nothing throughout the day. Be on time, or I will presume your interest in this matter concluded."

I paused, considering the situation, then added. "As I mentioned, the process can be... messy.* I recommend you remove any silken undergarments below the waist before you arrive."

I clapped my hands together softly. "Very good.I thank you for joining me think evening. I found our conversation most enlightening."

I stood and signaled the waiter. When he approached, I handed him a $100 bill. "Mrs. Bowen will need transportation. Please arrange it and see that the driver is adequately compensated." The waiter nodded silently and departed.

I turned back to my guest. "Good evening, Mrs. Bowen," I intoned, then turned on my heel and left.

After holding back all night, I settled back into the leather back seat and let loose a broad grin. I hadn't won yet, but I has a good feeling about the bet I'd just placed.

It was a gamble giving Samantha three days to consider my proposal. She'd been close to the edge already; if I had pushed a little more, she might have given in to me tonight. With a full weekend to decide, she might sway the other way.
But it would be sweeter this way. Overpowering her reluctance would not be as delectable a prize as her voluntarily coming before me to ask for my help. Once she yielded to me of her own volition.... The idea made me lick my lips in anticipation. Tuesday could not come soon enough.

 

[Angeleyz]

Samantha watched nonplussed as Mr. Trask left her, sitting there no doubt with her mouth open.

'What the fuck just happened?' she thought to herself, trying to rein herself back in. Folding her hands together, she took a couple of steadying breaths, thankful no one else seemed to have noticed her state of... distress. If only she could will her damn nipples to flatten. She had always had issues with ever present nipples before... And since breast feeding? Well, it was like they were determined to be in everyone's faces.

Talk about a surreal evening. Samantha still couldn't believe she had heard him correctly. Had he really just offered? Offered to assist her? As coolly as arranging the next status meeting? She had to have misunderstood what he said. Right? Perhaps the drink had been stronger than she thought. Yes, surely he was just talking about their next meeting. But...there had been all that talk about things getting messy...

Samantha squeezed her thighs together. Just the thought of what Mr. Trask could do to help relieve her.... She forced herself to take another deep breath, and noticed the waiter making his way back to the table.

"I have a cab waiting outside for you, miss," he said politely. "All you have to do is tell him where to take you."

"Thank you, I do appreciate it," she said.

Smiling cooly at him, her best boardroom presentation smile on her lips, Samantha rose from the table, collected her purse and followed him to the door. Once outside, she slipped into the cab, gave her address and gazed broodingly out the window.

Now that she had a few minutes to think, Samantha was pissed. She had worked too hard, had put up with too many idiots at the office, had solved too many damn problems for her supervisors for her to do something as stupid as to give in to some entertaining story, no matter how tempting it might be. She was a little disappointed that Mr. Trask thought so little of her abilities that he would think that she would even consider his offer.

~~~~~~~~~​

Later that evening, after Mia had gone down for the night, Samantha stood at the office door, watching Mike finish up some emails. Wearing nothing but a robe, she considered asking for his help, but left without asking... To pump and to brood about Mr. Trask's offer.

 

[saedo]

"How'd it go?"

I paused in mid sip and gazed up at Trisha. "How did what go?"

My assistant smirked slightly. "You know what I mean. You took Samantha Bowen out on Friday. What happened?"

I shrugged. "It went fine."

Trisha frowned. "Don't be a tease. I want details!"

I chuckled. "Alright, alright." I dialed back to Friday afternoon and gave her a blow-by-blow account of my evening. "After that, I went home. I haven't heard or seen her since."

Trisha sat down on the edge of my desk. She stared out my window and was lost in thought. I sipped me coffee and waited.

"Bit bold to do it like that," she mused. "Really banks on her being won over."

"You said confidence was key."

She nodded. "Yeah. Yeah. I just wonder what if it was too abrupt."

I shrugged. "Go big or go home."

Trisha giggled. "I've heard the girls talk; universal consensus is that you always go 'big'."

"Tsk tsk, don't be crude."

She grinned and continued. "Well, she has always seemed to have a thing for you. If you got her sufficiently fired up on Friday, she might just have the right mix of incentives to have her show up tomorrow. And if she does, she'll be eager to please. Still a gamble, but the potential payoff probably justifies swinging for the fences."

I inclined my head to her. "Thanks for your approval."

"Plus if this goes south, there is a silver lining."

"Oh?" I responded. "Do tell."

"Well, if she's not satisfied at home but thinks you're an arrogant bastard - no offense, sir - then she might be sufficiently ticked off at men to be willing to seek alternative relief." Her dark eyebrows wiggled suggestively.

"Heh," I smirked. "You mean she might let a certain curvaceous Asian secretary comfort her in her time of need?"

Trisha grinned salaciously. "Who am I not to come to the aid of a beautiful woman in need of my skills?"

"Fine, fine. If this doesn't pan out, then maybe I'll be pestering you for the details on Monday mornings. But for the moment how about we see what happens tomorrow afternoon first?"

"Yes sir," Trisha said with smile.

 

[Angeleyz]

Samantha knew she was in a foul mood, but she tried her best, really she did, not to take it out on the poor guy on the other end of the phone.

"What do you mean my car isn't ready yet?" she asked through clenched teeth as she rubbed her temples, "You guys had it all weekend for something that was only going to take a couple of hours."

Listening to the young man blather on about backlogs and specialized labor, she tried to talk chalk this up to yet another Monday blahs moment, but she knew, just knew, that nothing has gone right for her ever since Friday night.

Samantha had arrived home to find Mike nearly tearing his hair out - he was never any use when Mia was crying, and the poor tyke was screaming bloody murder. Mike assured her that he had checked her diaper, given her a bottle about an hour before, but Mia has been fussing nonstop for the last 20 minutes and even walking around hasn't stopped it. Given the tightness in her breasts, Samantha had decided to see if Mia was still hungry and had retreated to the nursery. It wasn't until Mia had latched on that she stopped crying. Samantha found it disturbing the way she had fantasized about Mr. Trask during that session. It was one thing to fantasize about the man late at night after Mike had gone to bed, but during "normal hours" and feeding her daughter?!

Unfortunately by the time she had put Mia down for bed, Samantha felt like a prisoner just released from jail. She had been extremely worked up and wanted nothing more than a good, old-fashioned fucking. Nothing sweet. Nothing gentle. She just wanted to be fucked... Ridden until her legs wouldn't stop trembling... Screwed until she didn't think she'd walk right for a week... She had approached Mike, thinking that surely he would be responsive, only to find him engrossed in some book. She had all but stripped naked in front of him, and his only response was that he had a headache and maybe later. A fucking headache! Later?! She has been so upset that she hadn't been able to hold back on some comments, and they ended up fighting over when he'd get over whatever the hell his hang up was about fucking the mother of his child.

Drumming her fingers on her desk, Samantha asked to speak to the service manager. Once he was online, she coolly informed him that they had two more days to get her car repaired, and that they be reimbursing her for cab fare for this inconvenience. She wasn't sure if they had planned to do that all along, or if they were afraid of what kind of stink she'd make, but he assured her that they would have her car ready and cover her expenditures before she hung up the phone.

Closing her eyes and stretching her arms high over her head, Samantha didn't notice Derek Matthews, her least favorite co-worker walk in until he coughed. Eyelids popping open, she did her best to nonchalantly lower her arms and place them against her desk, while lifting her right brow in inquiry. Her smile tight against her lips, Samantha pointedly ignored the lecherous smile and waited for him to stop staring at her tits and look her in the eyes. Eventually he remembered to look up and said in the oily voice voice that so grated on her nerves, "So Sami, I hear you and I are going to be working closely together on the Hazzard account. What say you and I go to lunch to discuss our game plan?"

Silently asking what she had ever done to be warrant such a punishment, Samantha had politely, but firmly turned him down. Once he was safely out of her office, she had proceeded to spend the next two hours making the case as to why Leonard Young was the better candidate over her. The thought of having to work with Matthews was enough to make her skin crawl.

Just when she thought her Monday might be looking up, her boss closed their conversation with an offhand comment before hanging up, "... Well, I guess having Young work the Hazzard account would free you up for the special assignment with Trask's division. Will have to see what he says about the substitution."

Samantha stared at the handset, dumbfounded. 'Oh what the hell did I just do,' she thought to herself.

 

[saedo]

"Jacob? Bill Powers." I always felt Bill should hardly ever need an introduction. His Boston accent made him hard to understand, but impossible to misidentify.

"Hello, Bill. What can I do for you?"

"I'm calling about that Fremont project you mentioned the other week."

I nodded, though obviously he couldn't see my reaction over the phone. "Right. What about it?"

"Well, last week I told you I'd be assigning Leonard Young to participate."

I nodded. Ostensibly I was heading up the team, but the multi-faceted nature prompted me to organize a "tiger team" with representatives from various divisions. "Right. Good guy, if I can recall."

"Oh, no doubt about it. Leo is great. Wizard with numbers, don't you know."

"Right, a fine choice. So what's up?"

"Well, I've just had a long conversation with another of my team and they've got me pretty well convinced that I can't really spare Leo at the moment. We've got that Hazzard matter to attend to and that's definitely a two-man job and I need a senior guy on it. I was going to assign Samantha Bowen, but she's reminded me that Leo already has some background on the project. You see, a few years back.... "

I tuned out as Bill droned on. Good guy, but Lord was he long-winded. Besides, I found the mention of Samantha's name curious given the events of days before. Today was Tuesday, so I'd be seeing this afternoon whether my gamble would pay off.

After letting Bill ramble for a few minutes, I interrupted. "So if I'm reading you right, you are going to be sending me someone besides Young for the Fremont thing?"

"In a nutshell, yes. I was thinking Samantha, but only if she meets your approval. It is your team, Jacob, and I did promise you Young, so I don't want to swap horses on you midstream. But Samantha is sharp as a tack, too. Why just the other.... "

I let Bill meander on while I mulled over the idea. Could be a good cover story if Samantha was yielding to make charms. Could also be unpleasant if she was about to balk at my intimate offer. Meh.

When in doubt, punt. "Bill," I interrupted. "I generally avoid telling a fellow executive how to run his department. I'm sure you wouldn't send me someone incapable, so I trust your judgment to pick the right person. Whichever one you send, just make sure they know our first meeting is 10 AM tomorrow in the seventh floor conference room."

"Alright, Jacob. I'll do that."

"Thanks for the call, Bill." I punched the button closing the connection.

What a curious development. Would I next be seeing Mrs. Bowen this evening for pleasure or tomorrow morning for work? The next 24 hours would be very interesting.

 

[Angeleyz]

Samantha clomped up the stairs, letting her heels clatter as noisily as she could in an effort to release some of her frustration. If she had known she'd be forced to walk the stairs today, she would have worn pants and shorter heels. It was a good thing she hadn't passed anyone yet - she'd probably growl at them... Stopping a moment to catch her breath, she took a deep breath and then wished she hadn't. Just breathing rubbed her nipples in tantalizing ways today, which in turn was driving her crazy.

'Oh don't lie to yourself,' she mentally scolded, 'You're sensitive because you haven't pumped all day, just like Trask said... Idiot!' Even though she had no intention of going by his office at 5:30 like he had directed (right?!?!), Samantha had still refrained from pumping since nursing Mia this morning. She wasn't exactly sure why she hadn't, but both times she picked up her pumping equipment, she had put it back down.

Sighing, Samantha continued her climb up the last three flights of stairs. She was so torn. She knew, just knew, that she shouldn't even be thinking about Trask's offer, but here it was 3pm and she couldn't say definitely that she wouldn't go. She was so tired of begging Mike for attention. Why shouldn't she get some relief, if the person was offering with no strings attached? What harm could it be? She'd be a lot less bitchy... More productive...

"Oh my god, I can't believe I'm trying to justify it," she muttered as she threw open the stairwell door.

Stalking down the hallway, Samantha made her way to her office and plopped down gratefully in her chair. Checking her messages, she grimaced when she heard Mr. Powers' message about helping out on the Fremont project. 'Oh yeah, that would be so awkward if I actually went this afternoon,' she thought as she pressed the button to listen to the next message. Frowning, she listened as her daycare provider described Mia's rising temperature and her inability to get ahold of Mike.

Feeling like she had just received a stay of execution, even if only for a day, Samantha grabbed her things and headed downstairs once more. After calling the day care and explaining that she was on her way, Samantha took a deep breath and called Mr. Trask's office. She was unsurprised when Trisha answered the phone with an efficient of "Mr Trask's office... Trisha speaking, how may I help you?".

"Yes, Trisha... This is Samantha Bowen... Would you please pass on a message to Mr. Trask? I, um, will be unable to... um... meet with him this evening... My daughter is running a temperature, and I'm on my way to pick her up."

Thanking Trisha, Samantha hung up and continued her race down the stairs.