Overworked: An Office Reverse Harem Romance

by Dark Angel

  I find her tits through her open blouse and squeeze them as I gasp and blow my load into her waiting mouth. Then I pull out and blow the rest of it all over her face and chest.

  It's a hot sight, seeing my cum all over the current secretary at Holt, Banks, and Shea.

  She's slurping up the leftovers and is so fucking excited to be in the esteemed position of receiving my cum. It’s like I'm doing her a favor by letting her suck my cock like this. She fucking loves it.

  Tiffany gets off on this sort of thing. But now that I'm done, I'm kinda done with her too.

  I zip up my pants up and say, "Okay Tiffany, you can return back to work."

  She knows the drill. She gets up and wipes the cum off her face, buttons her shirt, and turns to leave.

  She won't get out of here with one scrap of dignity.

  You may think I'm selfish for not getting her off but trust me, the thought of my giant cock so far down her throat will get her off for days. She can't get enough of me and anything I dish out, she'll take.

  Just as she reaches the doorknob, it turns and guess who walks in?

  "Hi Adam," Tiffany says, wiping the remainder of my cum off her face.

  He smiles and almost laughs.

  "Hello Tiffany, it looks like you've been very, very busy in here."

  He and I exchange a quick smirk. It's just another average day at work.

  Adam

  I walk down the plush halls of Holt, Banks, and Shea and bask in the glory that comes with working for such a powerful political firm that has plenty of clout. Together, my best friends and I created a workforce that can get any politician elected at any time. We're fucking fabulous at our jobs and having a number of submissive in the same building at any given time doesn’t really hurt, at all.

  I love not having to leave the office to get blown or to fuck somebody, with the blinds closed of course. This means I don't have to take anybody back to my penthouse and I don't have to deal with kicking them out before the sun comes up.

  It's all at work. Everything I need is at my fucking fingertips and it feels fucking awesome to be a man with this much political influence. I'm the guy you want to know.

  I'm the guy you want to fuck.

  But I don’t care about commitment, and don’t fucking think about saying the word marriage. Let's get that cleared up right away.

  If you want me to put a ring on it, then I'm not the man for you. You might as well keep walking, but not before fuck you.

  Trust me, no matter what a woman’s moral stance is, not a single one can fucking resist me. That's how I like it and that's how I play. They all try to change me, but none of them are ever successful. No one can tame me, and that’s fine by me.

  Tiffany, the secretary, is wiping cum off her face right now as she leaves Chase's office. It’s obvious what they’ve been up to.

  He was getting blown. She's one of the women who circles between us but fuck, is she boring as hell!

  "Hi Adam." She tosses her hair and bats her eyelashes.

  "Hello Tiffany." I smirk as I see her try to compose herself. “It looks like you've been very, very busy in here. Are you ready for more?"

  "Maybe," she says as she seductively licks her enticing lips.

  She wants it bad. Who wouldn't be drooling for a taste of my thick 12-inch cock? I'll be doing her a favor.

  But Tiffany's not hard to win over. She’s always game for it; there's no chase, no excitement. But hey, she wants me to fuck her so badly, so I will.

  "Go wait for me in my office."

  She does what I say. Always. Tiffany's hot but she's no perfect ten. I need something better in my life. New meat.

  I lean into the door of Chase's office and make my grand entrance.

  "Got some today, did we buddy?"

  He's zipping up his pants.

  "Yeah, just from Tiffany."

  Ahh, Chase, jaded as ever. He's seen too much and had too many women. Nothing excites him anymore.

  He used to have this sense of idealism. He thought we'd make the country great through our political maneuvering, but he's seen a number of corrupt politicians move in and out of the office, and countless women willing to give it all up all too easily. The guy has no faith in the world anymore.

  "Come on, man, she's not so bad."

  He looks at me with knowing eyes. "She's in your office, isn't she?"

  "You heard me, didn’t you?" I say.

  "Goddam Adam, don’t you want something better?"

  I open my arms wide as if showing him the value of the place.

  "And lose all this? What else do you want, Chase? We're sitting high on top of everything. We own this town and everything in it. It's all happening."

  "You, my friend, are a hopeless idealist."

  "And you, my friend, are jaded. We gotta shake you out of this rut."

  He spins in his chair to look out at the incredible view.

  "I'm not in a rut."

  "Yes, you are," I say, helping myself to some scotch from his bar cart.

  Hey, it's five o'clock somewhere. And besides, didn't I tell you this office is all inclusive?

  "We need to shake things up around here before you become really cynical."

  "I don't know, man. I've seen it all, done it all, been everywhere. That last trip to Bali didn't even faze me. It was beautiful, but it wasn't anything I haven't seen before."

  "Hmm," I say. "Sounds like a rich person's problem. Is the world not enough?" I joke.

  He plays with his magnetic desk toy and looks disillusioned. This is not the face of a man at ease. He's just been blown at his desk in the penthouse by a beautiful brunette with luscious lips and big, fake tits. What's he got to complain about?

  It's a good thing I came bearing good news.

  "Well, Chase, there's a reason I'm here besides to try your new scotch, which is excellent by the way."

  "It should be, it costs over a thousand dollars a bottle."

  I swish the amber liquid in my glass a little more appreciatively.

  "Good, then you won't mind if I top off my glass." I do so and get ready to deliver the big news.

  "We have a new recruit. And guess who recommended her?"

  "Who?" Chase is inquisitive now.

  My plan to entice him out of his funk just may work.

  "Sebastian King."

  His eyebrows perk up and suddenly he's all ears. Anybody who Sebastian sends our way is always a fucking ten. He has superb taste in women, and he knows how to select women who give and submits.

  Sebastian has the same unquenchable desire to master his woman as we do. Except that he's gone to the dark side and I've heard he's quite taken by one Ms. Lily Ryder. The very thought of him settling down is way beyond me.

  "Well, who is she?" Chase seems to light up at the thought of someone new.

  I throw the file I have on her on his desk.

  "Her name is Nicole," I say. "We've vetted her and everything. She's from Harvard and has everything we could want in a personal assistant. She studied Political Science and from what I understand she's hungry to get her foot in the door."

  He reads over the paperwork and looks pleased.

  "She looks good on paper," he says.

  "And you know if Sebastian sent her over, she'll be a knockout," I add.

  "Let's hope."

  "There's no hoping. She will be." I'm confident as I take a sip of my scotch.

  We live the high life and I don't care what Chase thinks. I'm happy. I've got top shelf scotch in my hand and a secretary just aching for me to cum inside of her. I’ve got the best of the world at my fingertips.

  "I gotta go," I say, not finishing the drink.

  It's nice to be able to afford to waste things.

  "Have fun." He casts me a dark smile, knowing full well I intend to make good on his sloppy seconds.

  We share everything around here, especially women. I make my exit and try to disguise the massive hard-on I have just thinking about Tiffany's
full lips wrapped around me as I pump cum down her throat. Life is fucking good.

  Cameron

  Chase has just called me into his office to discuss a potential new recruit. His voice was unusually optimistic, which is a huge leap for Chase who’s normally so fucking nonchalant, so I wonder what's up.

  I pull my Gucci suit jacket on and leave the sumptuous confines of my office. As the most senior member of Holt, Banks, and Shea, I get to have the corner office with the best view. While the building's all luxe and modern, my office has a traditional tone to it that reflects my traditional tastes.

  My wooden desk is an antique worth $30,000, my bookshelves were painstakingly handcrafted by some of the best woodworkers sent in from Italy. I have all the first editions of the classics lining those shelves, and I have all the awards and medals displayed that I've earned over the years, for well, just fucking being me.

  I'm the guy that gets stuff done. I'm the closer. I can lock in any politician that's wavering because I have the uncanny ability to earn someone's trust without even trying. Maybe it's my serious demeanor or that fact that I always look in control, and the truth is, I am.

  I work hard to stay a step above everyone else. I excel at what I do and I'm good at practically anything I try, be it sailing, or golf, or whatever the fuck else...I can pick it up, no problem.

  It's what made me fly to the top of the class at Harvard, and it's what's earned me prestigious business awards.

  With my help, the firm has gotten more politicians elected than you could count. Remember Governor Williams of Pennsylvania? We did that. And Senator Ross Guilia from NYC? We fucking did that too.

  I put my blood, sweat, and tears into this firm. We started it from the ground up, and even though I did it together with my two best friends, I like to think that my being slightly senior (by five years) gives me that edge.

  Right now, I wonder what has Chase so aroused. Usually, he's the first to point out where something's lacking.

  Poor guy has it too good. When you grow up rich, you’re so accustomed to comfort and luxury, it's easy to forget the highlights of life and how good money is. He's been sated by having experienced too much too soon. We're constantly trying to lift him up and into new action.

  I walk down the plush hallway and feel proud. The steel columns and large expanses of floor to ceiling windows are because of me, Chase, and Adam.

  What started as a simple idea written on the back of napkins during our early twenties has become a fucking billion-dollar empire. We wanted to be the political backrest on which politicians could lean. And now we've achieved that dream of being a company that supports candidates in a new way.

  Our golden touch shoots them to stardom. We're the best of the best and at such a young age. We're sharks in the goddamn water. Once we put our weight behind someone they’re almost guaranteed overnight success.

  I go into Chase's office.

  "Hey man."

  "Hi."

  "What's so important that I had to come all the way down here?" I examine the modern textures and grey furnishings that Chase has selected.

  His aesthetic is different from my mine, more industrial.

  "You'll never guess who's sending us a new recruit."

  I rack my brain to think of all the people we know with good taste. Being in this business means you gain a lot of connections in every sphere. It's really fucking helpful. Networking is everything and we have a great network.

  "I'm at a loss. Who?"

  "Sebastian fucking King."

  "No! He didn't."

  Chase places his hands together, his smirk nothing less than pleased. For once, he's happy. He knows that I know what this means.

  Sebastian is a major player in town and he has a penchant for picking out women who are the creme de la creme. If he sends someone your way you better take it. More importantly, if he sends someone…she’s gonna be a goddamn bombshell.

  "And guess what else?" Chase continues. "She's fucking hungry. Just out of Harvard."

  "Ahh, my alma mater." I think about the type of girl that would have attended Harvard and I try to picture her.

  She'll likely be blue-blooded unless she didn't come from money. But to make it to Harvard means she has a strong head on her shoulders at the very least.

  "What else do we know?" I ask, helping myself to some of his fine scotch, trying to pry for some details on her looks.

  He pushes a file across his desk and I take a seat to thumb through it. Everything looks in order except there's no picture. I’m a little disappointed I don’t get to see what she looks like, but my cock still twitches at the thought of having a new submissive, especially one recommended by Sebastian.

  "She looks good," I say, handing the file back to him.

  Just then there's a knock on the door and Adam comes in. He looks...heightened.

  "What's up with you man?" I ask.

  "Oh, I just fucked Tiffany," he says playfully.

  "Hmm, why am I not surprised? Do you two ever do any real work around here or do you just spend your days sampling the goods?"

  "Um," Adam says. "I think you know very well how good it can be."

  "Yeah," Chase says, still smirking. "Sharing is caring."

  "And we share everything," I add. "So, what's with this new girl?"

  "You found the scotch!" Adam says. Evidently he's portioned some for himself.

  "It's the best," he winks at Chase.

  "We haven't hired her yet," Chase says, serious as ever. "We'll do it later. But listen, she better be smart and not just a piece of ass."

  Adam throws up his hands as if he's fucking offended or some shit.

  "Always."

  Yeah right. He knows we hire new women that we want to fuck. Sure, there's actual members of this firm doing actual work. But we bosses? We like to have our playthings. And it's our every right given how much they're begging for it and how much it helps their career.

  "She's going to be fucking gorgeous," Adam says.

  "You don't know that," Chase states, ever the skeptic.

  "Well, she’d better be feisty. I'm sick of these girls coming in who don't give a fuck about their career and who don't stand a chance of helping us accomplish anything. But…a bombshell body won’t hurt either," I remark.

  "You're too serious," Adam says, throwing me a signed baseball from Chase's desk.

  I catch it easily, even while maintaining my scotch in one hand.

  "You've got it coming," I rib. "Besides someone has to be businesslike around here."

  "Whatever," Adam says.

  He's horny as fuck and I don't know why. He just tasted Tiffany.

  "Fine. I'll see you, boys, later."

  "Later," Adam says as I hand my scotch off to him.

  I go back to my office to deliberate alone about what a new girl sent by King could mean. I have my hopes. I'm sick of playing the field and never feeling passionate about anyone.

  It's one thing to fuck a beautiful girl, but it's quite another to want to dominate her to the point that you can't fucking think of anything else. If my intuition is right in this case, and it usually is, she’ll fit the bill just right.

  I let it go to get some work done, but the interview's in the back of my mind. I'll just have to see her to know. I can tell from the first look what she's made of. It's part of my skill as a political entrepreneur. I have a sixth sense about bullshit.

  Nicole

  I'm running late for my appointment at Holt, Banks, and Shea. It's just like me to be late on an occasion like this. I step into my pantyhose outside of the building and then slide on one Jimmy Choo before the other.

  People are staring at me—gawking, actually—but a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do to get noticed.

  That means I've had to change from my work clothes to my business clothes on the fly. I didn't have the time to stop in a restroom somewhere, so I've turned my bartending attire into something suitable for the meeting.

  Well, ac
tually, I'm not sure torn-up skinny jeans and a crop top would be suitable for this interview, but it certainly gets me tips at The Crown Club where I work. It's a bar full of college students mostly, yuppies who are easy to handle and to cajole tips from.

  I'm beyond anxious about being interviewed for this firm, I can't even begin to tell you. There are butterflies in my stomach, and I’m afraid I’ll break into cold sweat and ruin my immaculately done makeup.

  Mostly, I'm nervous about meeting the guys at this firm—my future bosses Adam, Cameron, and Chase. They're power players in town, and they hold real political sway.

  Me? I'm just a recent college grad who spends her nights pouring shots for drunk college kids.

  I bartend at The Blue Lagoon. It's a pretty upscale strip club at the far reach of town. It’s pretty exciting to see all the girls dance, and I get asked about doing it myself, but there’s no way I could ever see myself being so bold.

  I live in my little nook of an apartment in the middle of downtown, near all the action and the good bookstores and cafes. I know myself and I know my limits.

  And I think I know what I want, which is to put my Political Science degree to good use. I didn't spend four years studying with my head in the books for nothing. I mean to make something of myself and to be a name people recognize.

  Holt, Banks, and Shea is a good place to start. After all, they got Austin Bain a.k.a. “President Player” elected, so that means they are very good at what they do.

  The thing is, I've heard some things... like, they sell themselves to the highest bidder and not necessarily to the person who can do the most good for the country.

  That doesn't run right with me. I have integrity, and it's important to me that I maintain that.

  In the political world, it's sometimes hard to have an honest reputation. I know you have to do things that may be uncomfortable, but you do them anyway just to get things done.

  But I'm also an idealist. I believe in the power of doing good for the world, and I will never let money sway me from that cause. I am determined to preserve my principles no matter what.

  This is the pep talk I give myself as I pull open the heavy doors to the skyscraper that's going to be my future workspace. I'm serious about getting this job, and let me tell you, when I turn my attention to something, it happens.