Executive Suite, or Sweet Executive?

by Rene Larouche

  Dwayne Williams made it a point to remain sitting behind his desk when potential employees entered his office. To him, it was a sign of authority – the man behind the desk and the power within the company. .When he saw the tall, svelte, blonde woman stride though the door he knew he had to hire her, but more importantly without even a word between them he knew. Dwayne Williams just saw the next white woman he wanted to fuck. With that idea set in his mind, he did something he’s never done with a potential employee – he stood up.

  Priscilla Johnston strode up to the front of the 18th Century French ornate desk that Dwayne stood behind, offered her right hand, and said, “Good morning, Mr. Williams. I would like to thank you for taking the opportunity to meet me to discuss the possibilities of my joining your company. From the information I’ve gained by searching the Internet, I found that you built this company from scratch and now have it poised to corner the medical resonance and surgical equipment market. Quite impressive, if I don’t say so myself.”

  Dwayne Williams just smiled at Priscilla Johnston as he held her soft white hand in his big black paw. He did not squeeze her hand very hard, but hard enough to let her know that he could crush it if he wanted to. It had been a long time since he met a woman and felt a stirring in his loins. He found his tongue and replied, “Thank you Ms. Johnston. From your resume, I see you’ve climbed the sales management ladder and easily passed through the glass ceiling. Please sit so we can see if you’re the sales executive I need to help push the company into a market that I believe is ripe for the taking.”

  Priscilla Johnston noticed that the only chair in front of Mr. Williams’ desk was an antique oak straight back chair with no cushion. Dwayne continued smiling as he pointed to the chair that he noticed had gotten her attention. She placed her briefcase next to the chair, used her hands to smooth her dress from her hips to her thighs, and sat down with her knees together pointing to her right, his left. She made herself as comfortable as she could when she realized he placed the chair there for one and only one reason – to see how the potential employee handled an uncomfortable situation. After settling in, she looked directly at Dwayne Williams and smiled.

  Dwayne saw the momentary hesitation and then the realization of why the chair was there on her face as he sat down in he deep piled executive leather chair. Some interviewees could not handle the hard chair the minute they sat down on it; while others took from ten to thirty minutes to begin to squirm and get really uncomfortable. He thought to himself that Ms. Johnston is going to be one of the very few people to sit and mentally put all thoughts of pain out of her mind to complete the interview without moving a leg muscle. He made a bet to himself that she’d probably never cross her legs either.

  Dwayne never liked interviewing potential employees especially since the government, the physically handicapped, mentally handicapped; yadda-yadda-yadda decided that certain questions were politically incorrect. “How long did it take you to commute here this morning? Monday mornings can be rather tedious trying to get here from any part of the tri-state area.”

  Priscilla knew the drill. Start with a conversational question. Make the candidate relax. Elicit a simple answer. Then go for the throat. “I did my commute work up front, Mr. Williams. I had two weeks to Google the company, go to Mapquest for directions, and a week ago Sunday I took the time to drive here without the vagaries of a Monday morning commute to see if my Internet directions needed a tweak or two. I knew it would take me about thirty-five minutes to get here and gave myself fifty-five. Never can be too cautious with time when traveling in the City.”

  Dwayne was impressed with her answer and the direct, no bullshit way of stating it. Must be that Midwest honesty and forth rightness. “Ms. Johnston, would you please explain to me why you’re looking to leave the company you’re with?” Dwayne asked the rather vivacious woman sitting opposite him.

  Without missing a beat, Priscilla Johnston replied, “Mr. Williams, have you ever accomplished something in a record period of time and find out that you’ve emptied the barrel. In the eight months I’ve been with Silverstein Partners, I’ve closed six of their biggest deals. They’ve never encountered someone like me. I closed deals that others were working on for years. That is when I saw they had nothing in the pipeline and their product was at its end-of-shelf-life. I knew, if I wanted to continue to grow in the business world, expand my sales abilities, and continue to make the base salary and commissions I’m used to, I’d have to seek greener pastures. Actually I did something I shouldn’t have done, but last Friday I told them I would not be returning today. I should have given them two weeks or even four weeks notice, but I knew that it would be a waste of time. To my surprise, my boss gave me my leave and told me I would have my final check by weeks end.”

  “I see you where you started taking classes at the Stern School. What are your concentrations?”

  “Marketing. Finance.” “What about the modern day Internet, media, and mass mailings,” asked Dwayne a bit surprised at her two single word answers. Priscilla hadn’t moved a muscle since sitting down in front of her inquisitor. She paused for just a second or two and answered, “Marketing comprises all avenues of letting the world know about your product. It also opens the statistical analysis door to see if your advertising programs are reaching your demographics. Your potential customers. But, I believe your product is so vertical that putting together a marketing and advertising plan should play to the potential market. I believe that a good sales executive should have a solid foundation in marketing and finance.

  “I see you’re only two years out of a small college in the Midwest. Are you a transplant to New York?”

  “Yes, Sir. I knew that I had to migrate to the largest commercial center in the world to make my mark and hopefully take my place in the yet to be built Business Hall of Fame.” “Your resume says you have a Bachelor’s Degree in Business Administration and a Bachelor’s of Arts Degree in Psychology. You dual majored in what seems to be two diametrically opposed studies.”

  “Not really, Mr. Williams. The business degree gave be my basis in accounting, ethics, and business practices. Psychology gave me the understanding of people, cultures, and brain functions so I could better deal with the intricacies of closing major deals. It really is a natural synergy, not diametrically opposed as you think.”

  “Prior to joining Silverstein Partners you worked at a company called Johnston Construction in Kansas City, Kansas. It seems you joined them directly out of college. Why did you go there instead of coming to New York City directly? It would seem that selling is not a big part of what they do. Don’t get me wrong Ms. Johnston, but selling siding or room additions is not what you call major business.”

  Priscilla smiled to herself when he finished asking his question. “Johnston Construction is my husband’s father’s company. They aren’t a small siding or addition type of construction company. I’m surprised you haven’t heard of them considering they’re contracted to build three of the four tallest buildings in the world. One in Dallas / Fort Worth, one in Singapore to pass the height of the PETRONAS Towers in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, and one scheduled to be built right here in New York City on the West Side. I was deeply involved with the Singapore and New York bids. I fact I take pride in helping the company close the New York bid because of the ancient ways the City and State of New York work when it comes to major real estate deals.”

  “If you were so successful, why did you decide to leave for New York? And why did your husband give up any chance of inheriting the company?” “That is an easy question to answer Mr. Williams. My husband’s family decided to sell the business about eleven months ago. My husband is not the favorite son and his choice was simple. His brothers were to receive the lion’s share of the sale after they stewarded the new owner’s investment for two years. All my husband was going to receive was a small settlement of about fifty thousand dollars. We saw the handwriting on the wall. It was an easy decision.”

  Dwayne was
impressed with her honesty and candor. “I know the next question is definitely out-of-bounds and you don’t have to answer it if you don’t want to. What does your husband do for work?”

  “Sad to say, but, Dennis has been unemployed for several months. He has a Bachelor’s Degree in Accounting, but never went any further with his studies. It is not easy to find a well paying job for a junior accountant. And, I do make the lion’s share of our income.”

  “Children? What I mean to ask is are you considering having children?” Priscilla angled her head to the right when she heard the question. “According to all information I have about that specific type of question I do not have to respond. But, I know that you’re wondering if I’m going to accept employment and then sometime in the near future walk in and say I’m pregnant I’m leaving you or want six months paid maternity leave. So, at this point in time, I am not thinking about children. My biological clock is ticking, but I believe I can wait longer and I really want to make my mark in business. To be blunt Mr. Williams, I believe that I have the ability to take your company where you want. Without question.”

  Dwayne sat back, put his hands behind his head, and just stared at the woman. Her eyes did not flinch. “Where do you see yourself in five years?”

  “I see myself sitting in a high backed leather conference room chair on your right side in the Executive Committee, Board of Directors, and Shareholder’s Meetings as your CSO.” Dwayne frowned when he heard CSO. “CSO?” “Yes, CSO. Chief Sales Officer. I don’t believe that Corporate Vice President of Sales is the correct organizational identifier for the position I believe I will end up holding in your company, Mr. Williams.”

  ‘Extremely self-assured’ Dwayne thought to himself. I wonder how she would react when I have her legs spread open and the head of my cock pressing at the gates of her opening. God how he wanted to just throw her down on the floor and force himself on her. He could feel himself actively trying to defuse his desire for this woman. It will take some doing, but he knew he’d be fucking her in a matter of weeks or more hopefully days. He also knew from the short time he’d been interviewing her, that he was going to offer her a contract. A very healthy contract.

  “Well. Ms. Johnston are you ready for something to eat?”

  “I wasn’t really planning on lunch, but I see it is nearing that time. I’d be honored to accompany you to lunch. We can continue our interview there,” she stated in an even business like tone. “There’ll be no need to continue the interview process over lunch. Priscilla. Excuse me, but it is alright that I call you Priscilla?”

  “Of course, if I can call you Dwayne,” Priscilla countered. “In the business world you’ll be Ms. Johnston and I’ll be Mr. Williams. When were alone or amongst friends and certain associates you’ll be Priscilla and I’ll be Dwayne. Why don’t you leave your briefcase next to the chair? No one is going to bother it as the door to my office is controlled by electronics. I’ve made a reservation at a nice French restaurant and depending upon traffic can be considered not far from here.”

  Dwayne Williams stood, walked around his desk, and for the first time he noticed that Priscilla had scanned his body from head to foot; stopping for more than a split second when she crossed the area of his crotch. Priscilla Johnston tried hard not to openly stare at the front of his pants, but she realized that he had to be the largest man she’s ever seen in person. He picked up his suit jacket, put it on, and took Priscilla by her left arm and guided her to the ever so slowly opening door to his office. Just as they arrived the door opened fully and they strode out into the anteroom that was just outside his office.

  Agatha looked up from her desk and knew that Mr. Williams had made up his mind about hiring Ms. Johnston. “I take it you’re headed to Jacques for lunch, Mr. Williams.” “Yes, Agatha, but I do have something for you to do while we’re eating. I left a document with you this morning. Please use level five for the numbers and have it ready for me when I return,” stated Dwayne as he guided Priscilla out of his office suite to his Racing Red Ferrari. Agatha McCormack realized that Mr. Williams had told her to modify the Acme Standard Employment Contract salary and commission terms for the employment he was going to offer Ms. Johnston. Without question, she found the folder and began revising the document on her computer.

  The ride from Acme Manufacturing to La Bonne Auberge did not take very long considering the midday traffic was horrendous, but a fifteen minute drive at night did take close to 33 minutes to complete. The restaurant was located in a house on the edge of a residential area. The city allowed the owner to make the necessary changes to a commercial building right next to the property. Jacques razed the building to put in a covered parking lot. Upon arriving at the restaurant, Dwayne could see the valet removing three red traffic cones from a spot directly next to the front door. He maneuvered the Racing Red Ferrari into the spot, shut down the engine as the valet opened the door for him to exit, walked around the vehicle to open the door for Priscilla, and helped her out of the vehicle.

  “Keep an eye on it Mark and don’t be standin’ next to it drooling. I just picked it up on Saturday,” Dwayne said as he slipped the valet a fifty dollar bill. Priscilla noticed that he did not give the keys to the valet.

  “So, I see you have your own parking space here,” said Priscilla. “Not mine exclusively, but Jacques has two spots on each side of the main entrance for his preferred customers. You’ll enjoy today’s lunch. Jacques maintains what would be considered a four star restaurant under Guide Michelin and Fodor’s rules.” He took her by her left arm and gently moved her towards the main entrance where a slight man in a black tuxedo stood holding the handle of the door waiting for them to get close enough to open it.

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Williams. Nice to see you again Sir it has been a few weeks now, hasn’t it Sir?” asked the doorman.

  “It has at that Wilson. I’ve been on the road keeping my eyes and ears open for that special song you’ve been telling me you’re going to have playing nationwide.” “Oh, Mr. Williams, please now, you know I was just havin’ some fun with you. What do a sixtytwo year old broken down second string footballer know about today’s music.” With that Wilson began laughing quietly as he opened the door for them to enter. Again Priscilla noticed the quick but not so surreptitious slipping of a folded bill into Wilson’s left jacket pocket. The interior of the restaurant could only be explained as exquisite. The Victorian house was in perfect condition and the furnishings were all 15th, 16th, 17th, and 18th Century French antiques. The wall were covered with flocked wall paper, the wood through out the building was pine, white oak, red oak, and mahogany stained to match the interior décor of the room, and the floors were all random width oak floors. Some of the wood on the floor was recovered from some of the most prestigious mansions the used to line the streets of this area of the Northern Bronx and Southern Westchester County. The main door opened into a vestibule area that was manned by the Maitre’D and his top assistant. Priscilla noticed that Mr. Williams was greeted and without question they were taken to the third floor in a private elevator.

  Waiting in a small room was the owner Jacques. “Bon jour, Monsieur Williams. Como va tu?” Priscilla immediately noticed the use of the familiar forms of the French verbs. “Ca va, Jacques. E tu,” replied Dwayne in perfect French. “Bien. Enough with the French!!! I have laid out a nice lunch consisting of a very special lobster bisque, a wonderful Rack of Lamb, two green vegetables, mashed garlic potatoes, and for dessert your special chocolate ice cream. In between each course a small taste of lemon sorbet to cleanse the pallet. I have decided to be a bit daring and have ordered up a bottle of Chateau Lafyette Rothschild for the wine accompaniment. Please…” Jacques waved to the small table sitting just in front of a bay window. The tablecloth was white damask linen, the plates were solid silver as was the silverware and the wine and water glasses were 100% leaded crystal.

  “Thank you Jacques.” Dwayne held the chair for Priscilla to sit down and walked arou
nd the small table to his seat. After getting comfortable, he looked directly into her eyes, “I’ve noticed that you’ve all of a sudden become very quiet. Is there a special reason?”

  Priscilla knew she’d have to spend some time with her potential employer, but she’d never been around a man with such an obvious sexual package. She realized that for the first time in her life she was at a loss for words. Not because of a lack of intelligence, but because she didn’t know or understand the feelings that were coursing through her body and brain. “No, there isn’t any specific reason. I was impressed with the Ferrari, this lunch, and…”

  “You need to relax, Priscilla. There is a part of the job description that puts you into direct contact with me on a daily basis. It may be in person or on the phone. E-mails will be the other means of communication, but I know my, what did you call it; yes; my CSO; will be intimately involved with the day-to-day sales operations; which, Priscilla, translates into intimate contact with me on a daily basis.” Dwayne sat back thinking to himself how he’d like to be intimate with her right now. Here besides the table. Priscilla bent over, her arms resting on the table as he pistoned his black cock in and out of her white pussy. He noticed a slight change in her face when finished speaking.