Tell Me What to Do

by Lena Malick

  Tell Me What to Do

  Tell Me What to Do

  Midpoint

  TELL ME WHAT TO DO

  By Lena Malick

  SMASHWORDS EDITION

  PUBLISHED BY: Lena Malick on Smashwords

  Tell Me What to Do ©2012 by Lena Malick

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

  Adult Reading Material.

  *****

  TELL ME WHAT TO DO

  I knew that it was now or never. Time to be brave, Julie. I hovered the mouse over the send button. I wanted this so bad. I’d wanted it for a long time. I’m not a slut, you should know that right off the bat.

  It was Allan’s last day at work. As the head of Human Resources, I had his exit papers. Allan was tall, lean, and a little awkward. A bit shy. Attractive, but not the kind of guy most women would lust after. I guess I’m not most women, because from the time I first interviewed him for his job almost two years ago, I’d been attracted to him. At first I thought it was simply because he was unavailable; it’s always safe to lust after someone you know you can never have. He was engaged. But it wasn’t just that. Whenever we were in a room together, I was irresistibly drawn to him in a very sexual way, unlike anything I’d experienced with anyone else. Maybe we were some kind of one-in-a-million chemical match.

  I know he felt it, too. Once, I had to individually explain to every employee their 401k benefits. When it was Allan’s turn, we sat next to each other at the conference room table. I was already aware of my attraction to him, so I was careful not lead him on in any way. Despite my desires, I respected the fact that he had a fiancée. I had decided the closest I would get to Allan was the sexual fantasies I had about him. I wore a thick, bulky sweater and a long skirt. I’m tall and busty, with the kind of body that easily gets men going. My boyfriend, when we first slept together, said I had a body men would crawl over broken glass to get a blurry look at. He told me that just having this body made me good in bed. I’d learned to dress conservatively to avoid unwanted attention. At work I dress downright dowdy, with my hair up and little or no makeup.

  As Allan and I sat at the table, I went over the details of his 401k, the same as I did with everyone else. Despite my precautions, the attraction between us was like an elephant in the room. He was very attentive, nodding in the right places, asking the occasional question. I was feeling very warm under my sweater. A couple of times I made eye contact with him. Both times I stopped talking and we looked at each other, as if acknowledging that we both felt the same thing. The attraction was so strong I didn’t trust myself to remain composed, and figured I better wrap it up quickly. As I was finishing, I looked down and could see a huge bulge in his pants. Earlier, I noticed as he scooted himself closer to the table. Now I knew why. His erection was so big it was impossible to hide, pushing his slacks straight out in a large V shape. I wasn’t sure what to do. The conference room is all windows, looking out to all the other employees. I couldn’t send him out like that. Finally, I thought of something and stood up, feeling a bit light headed.

  “Here are the forms you need to fill out. You can fill them out here. Right now. Here’s a pen. Take your time. No hurry. I’ll just… leave you alone now,” I said, flustered. Safely back in my office, I stuck my hand down my skirt. I was wet. I leaned back in my chair, dizzy with excitement. Just being near him, without even touching, infused me with pure sexual stimulation. I quickly jerked off, thinking of that bulge in his pants.

  That was almost a year ago. Now, my mouse hovered over the send button of an email I was about to send him. The email read;

  Allan,

  I have scheduled your exit interview for today at 4:30. Jessica is out today, it’s just me down here, so knock on the door when you arrive and I’ll buzz you in.

  Julie Carmine

  Director, Human Resources

  It was the ‘it’s just me down here’ part that I hoped he’d notice. After two rounds of layoffs, our HR department was down to just Jessica and me. They’d moved us down to the basement offices. You had to go down a hallway and then down some stairs to get to our area, which was separate from the rest of the offices. Jessica was on vacation.

  A lot had happened since Allan and I sat in that conference room going over his 401k. My attraction for him had only intensified over time. His fiancée called off their engagement two months ago, adding gasoline to the fire of my sexual fantasies.

  I was still with my boyfriend, Carl. I’d usually get home from work before him. Sometimes, before he got home, I’d lie in bed and fantasize about Allan, especially if I’d seen him at work that day. I’d always fantasize about Allan telling me to do things. Illicit things. Things I’d never do unless I was told to. I always imagined him to have some dark, exotic sexual side that only I could bring out. Only I knew how to make all his shy defenses melt away. God knows I never experienced anything very sexually exotic in my own life.

  Unlike my real sex life, I was very submissive to Allan in my fantasies, wanting him to control me. I’d imagine him as forceful, taking me greedily and handling me roughly. Sometimes, by the time Carl came home, I’d be so worked up I’d practically tackle him when he came through the door. But instead of being submissive to Carl, I’d take on the role of Allan in my fantasies. I’d throw Carl to the floor and straddle his face, grabbing his hair and telling him to lick my pussy, grinding into his face until I’d cum. Then I’d bend over the back of the couch and demand he fuck me hard, yelling at him half way through to pull my hair and slap my ass. Carl was always happy to oblige, gamer that he was, but he’d look at me a little differently afterward. “I don’t know what came over me, honey. Sometimes I just have to have you,” I’d demure, feeling guilty.

  The end of Allan’s engagement hit him hard. In the last two months he tried to put on a brave face, but it was obvious he was hurting. He seemed drained of self-confidence, walking with his shoulders slumped forward. After two months, he seemed to be getting worse, not better. The rumor was his fiancé met a woman and decided she was a lesbian, or that she might be and needed to find out for sure. Allan’s sadness, and his courageous attempts to cover it up, made him all the more irresistible to me.

  In some ways it was a relief when I received the notice that he was leaving the company. My fantasies were getting to be more than I could handle. Just seeing him walk down the hall, with his awkward gate, would be enough to throw me into a tizzy. Sometimes I’d end up back at my desk with my hand down my skirt, unable to wait until I got home. Poor Carl began to think I might be on drugs.

  I called Allan after I received his notice. That was what I would normally do, and I was always careful to do exactly what I would with anyone else. He told me, in a halting voice, that he was sorry but he was going to move back to Denver. I told him I understood and that the company was grateful for all his hard work and we’d always try to make room for him if he wanted to come back. The usual crap.

  Now it was his last day. It was 9:00 in the morning. I read the email again, wondering what he’d think when he read it. What would go through his mind?

  I clicked send.

  ~ ~ ~

  The moment Jessica said she was going on vacation earlier than expected—suddenly getting bumped from member of the wedding to bridesmaid and thus requiring her to get to Florida a week earlier than originally planned—I knew what I was going to do. It’s like the whole plan arrived fully formed in my mind. I’d never cheated on Carl, or any other boyfriend. Granted, I was only twenty-seven, so it’s not like I had a long history of relationships, but still. I didn’t want to le
ave Carl. Things weren’t always great—Carl was a workaholic and so against starting a family that he checked my birth control pills every day—but for the most part I liked what we had. And strangely, I never really thought of Allan in terms of a relationship. Maybe it was hard for me to admit, because I’d never had this experience, but I thought of Allan primarily in sexual terms. I didn’t imagine us going to a romantic movie together, I imagined blowing him in the theatre, then fucking him in the parking lot.

  But it had all been a fantasy. That is until Jessica told me she was leaving for vacation early. Suddenly, I knew I was going to take a step into reality. I knew right away what I was going to do.

  Yesterday, after work, I got a Brazilian wax, a manicure, and a pedicure. Last night I took a long bath, shaving my legs, doing all the extras. This morning I waited until Carl left for work before I got ready. After I showered, I stood in front of the full-length mirror in our bedroom. I rubbed vanilla scented lotion all over. My hand glided to my crotch. I stepped closer to the mirror and admired the shiny smooth folds and tucks of my pussy. I spread my lips up and apart, pulling them away until I could see the tip of my clit peaking out. I looked at it in the mirror. I ran my fingertip lightly over the pale nub, thinking about what was in store for me today. My body jerked, a small spasm rolling through me. My other hand, still wet with lotion, squeezed my heavy breasts. My lower hand began rubbing circles over my crotch. My legs got weak and began to buckle. I slid down to my knees, sliding my middle finger into my pussy. I tilted foreword, my forehead hitting the mirror as my other hand squeezed my nipples. I imagined it was Allan crouched behind me, squeezing my tits, whispering in my ear, “I’m going to fuck you from behind. Hard. Now bend over and give me that ass.” The far off sensation of an orgasm rushed toward me, like a storm racing for land. Another two seconds and I knew I had to stop if I was going to hold off. I had two fingers in my pussy, grinding hard, my body desperate to cum.

  I stopped, panting, on my hands and knees.

  I dressed. Pale pink panties, the kind that are barely there. Matching push-up bra, low cut with lace trim, my nipples visible under the wide-gap lace. I admired my deep cleavage in the mirror. I put on a snug white blouse that had a high trim-cut waist, accentuating my bust. Not something I’d ever wear to work by itself. I put on a high neck sweater over the blouse, then put on a knee length skirt with a half slit. I put on dark stockings and sensible flats. In a bag I put a pair of sexy black high-strap heels. I tied my hair up and put on my large glasses. No makeup. That would come later.

  I was excited all day. I knew I was taking a chance, but I figured that if I was going to do this, I was going to go all out. Come what may.

  After I sent Allan the email, I could barely sit still. I tried to focus on my work, but it was impossible. I kept looking at my email for a reply. I had one interview late in the morning, which went very fast, as I was desperate to get back to my desk. When I did, there was a reply;

  Julie,

  See you at 4.

  Allan

  Julie. Not Ms. Carmine. Good sign. Late in the morning, I called my friend Rebecca, who worked across the street, and asked if she wanted to go to lunch. I listened to her talk about her horrible husband as she dragged pieces of French bread across a plate of olive oil and drank two glasses of chardonnay. At least it passed the time.

  At three o’clock I was at my desk, having a small panic attack. What was I doing? Suddenly the reality of it hit me. I could be fired. I was acting totally inappropriately. I could lose Carl. Clearly, I deserved to. I tried to rationalize that I was at the mercy of a force that was stronger than I could control. Nonsense. I was acting like a slut. I took a deep breath. I’m not a slut, I told myself. Not really. I’ve made a decision, that’s all. I’ve decided I no longer want to fantasize over and over about something. I want to make it real. For once. And yes, there are risks to doing that, but I’m willing to take that chance. I want this, and for once, I am going to have it.

  It was now or never. Time to be brave, Julie.

  I had planned to wait until four o’clock to get ready, but I decided to do it now. I pulled my sweater off and took a mirror out of my purse. I put on my makeup, using dark eye shadow and deep red lipstick, which almost matched my hair and contrasted my pale skin. When I finished my makeup, I let my hair down, letting it fall over my shoulders and down my back. I stood up and pulled my skirt all the way up to mid thigh, carefully folding the top over in a band. I took off my flats and put my heels on, perching my foot on my desk as I threaded the straps. As I did, I could see my crotch reflected in my computer monitor, barely covered by the thin strip of my pink panties. I finished buckling my heels and stood up, walking a circle around my office.

  Another deep breath. I unbuttoned my blouse to my stomach, tugging and pulling my bra until my breasts were nearly spilling over the top. My tits were lifted enough to set a wine glass on, the top of my wide areolas peaking over. I had a framed picture of Venice, Italy on my wall. I looked at my reflection in it now, superimposed on the romantic canals. Damn, I looked sexy. More than that, I thought confidently; I looked like a wet fucking dream.

  As nervous as I was, I was already very excited. I didn’t need to touch myself to tell. I was so excited I felt like I smelled like sex, as if it was coming out of my pours. I took out Allan’s paperwork and brought his file up on my computer. I opened my office door and waited. It was excruciating. Twice I almost put on my sweater and made a dash for the bathroom, but I remained sitting, determined.

  ~ ~ ~

  At 4:28, there was a knock. My heart was pounding so hard I could feel it pulsing in my head. I hit the buzzer that unlocks the outer door.

  “Hi, it’s me,” I heard Allan say out in the hall.

  “Come in,” I called, sitting at my desk, pretending to be looking at my computer monitor.

  Allan appeared at the door, about to say something. As soon as he saw me he stopped, frozen, mouth open. The way I was sitting allowed me to face forward without revealing that my blouse was mostly unbuttoned, and he couldn’t see anything below my waist, but still, the effect on him was devastating.

  “Please, sit,” I said, casual as I could, still looking at my computer monitor. He stepped forward and sat in the chair in front of my desk.

  I didn’t know what to say. I hadn’t planned that far. I sat, silent. He sat, frozen. I tapped some keys on my keyboard. The temperature in my office seemed to be getting warmer by the second. I could feel myself perspiring. I moved some hair out of my face, pushing it behind my ear. Finally, I stopped typing, or pretending to, and looked at him. His pale blue eyes looked back at me. His shoulders moved up and down with his breathing. I suddenly hoped it wasn’t just me that felt this overwhelming attraction. If so, I was about to make an enormous fool of myself.

  “So,” I said.

  “So,” he said, looking a little dizzy, like he might fall forward.

  “You’re moving back to Colorado?”

  “Yes. I’m from Boulder.”

  “Nice there, I hear.”

  “Yes. It’s… it’s nice.”

  There was an awkward pause. “Here are your exit papers, Allan.” I stood and leaned forward across my desk, letting my blouse fall open. I slid the folder across to him.

  “Thank you,” he said in a horse whisper, not moving, but getting an eye full.

  “Usually, I go through a lot of questions during this interview,” I said, sitting back down. I was surprised at how casual I sounded. “But I think we can probably skip that.”

  “Okay,” he said.

  “You can still collect benefits for the next ninety days. Your paperwork has your sign-on info for accessing the intranet, but it’s a little tricky. I’d like to show you how it works.”

  “Alright,” he said.

  “I have it up on my computer now. Can you come around this side so I can show you?” I said.

  He didn’t move.

  “Allan?”

&n
bsp; “Yes?”

  “Can you come over to this side so I can show you this?”

  “Sure,” he said, softly.

  “Okay,” I said.

  We both sat there. Finally, he stood up, stiffly. His erection was so large he couldn’t even stand up straight, as if the pull in his pants was dragging him down. He walked awkwardly around my desk and stood next to me. As he came around, I adjusted in my chair, letting my legs separate so my skirt rode up. I adjusted my shoulders so my blouse opened. I glanced down. I could see my nipples poking over the top of my bra, as if seeking air.

  Allan stood just to the left of me, his erection straining forward at about eye level. I kept my attention on the computer screen, allowing him to look down at me. “Here,” I said, “is where you put your sign-in information.” I clicked to the next screen. “This takes you to a full list of your benefits.” I stopped and turned to him, looking up. His face was strained, as if under tremendous pressure. I spread my legs further apart, my skirt riding all the way up to my waist. I leaned back in my chair and swiveled slightly, so my mouth was right under his dick. My blouse slid off one shoulder. I opened my mouth and licked my lips, still looking up at him.