Loaning Her To My Boss
Page 1
LOANING HER TO MY BOSS
By
Laran Mithras
Other Books by Laran Mithras
Intrusion of the Heart
The Knight of Her Heart
My Two Vampire Lovers
Eclipse of Her Heart
The Captain of Her Heart
The Captain of Her Heart: Assassin's Gambit
The Captain of Her Heart: Pirate's Passion
Phone Sex With The Neighbors
DRAGON, SHIFTED
The Sharing of Carlene
The Babysitter's Desire
Two Vampires For Leah
Short Stories
by Laran Mithras
After Her Death (Kindle Only)
Cover Photo courtesy of Oleg Tovkach and www.ShutterStock.com
Loaning Her To My Boss is a work of fiction. Names, locations and incidents either are a product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.
Copyright © 2014 - All Rights Reserved
“In marriage, the greater cuckold of the two is the lover.”
~ Paul Gauguin
CHAPTER 1
Kurt's life was about to become a nightmare.
His boss, Ian, strolled into the break room, coffee cup in hand. Several of the associates stopped talking, others lowered their voices.
“I hate to say this,” Ian said, “But I find myself without a date to the president's opera next Friday.”
The president of their advertising corporation invited the four branch managers and their wives to a posh opera every year. By all accounts, dry, not entertaining, and a sure cure for insomnia. But also mandatory. The president believed it built a more sophisticated excellence.
Unfortunately, their boss was undergoing a divorce that occasionally made the rounds in the break room.
Kurt wasn't sure who was at fault, or to blame. Ian was a fair boss, but drove his associates hard. Had he been the same in his marriage? He had met Margaret once. She had seemed like a reserved and pleasant lady. He gave a mental shrug, but his pulse raced. “I, um...”
Ian looked at him.
He looked at his fellow associates and back to his boss.
Ian motioned with his head as if to say, “Let's take this to my office.” He turned and walked out, moving his head only to nod to the new associate.
Kurt followed. Ian was a handsome man, and fit. He liked to rock-climb, though Kurt wondered why anyone would. Why climb up the face when you could take a path? The man kept his fair hair short, almost military. While the associates were allowed longer hair, the president demanded a certain corporate-style conformity in his managers.
Ian closed the door to his office and waved his coffee cup to a chair. “Sit.”
He was taken aback. Normally Ian wanted people out of his office as soon as possible and hardly ever offered a seat. He sat.
His boss leaned back against his desk and crossed his feet. At ease, in his element. Looking down at Kurt with those sharp blue eyes.
Kurt was a good salesman. He turned in a solid performance every year and took away second or third place in the sales bonuses, consistently. He was handsome, his hair flowing to his collar in waves that caused much agitation in the women. He was also fit, liking to hike and mountain-bike. Without a doubt, the two most handsome men in the company were facing off.
A raised eyebrow from Ian let Kurt know he was waiting.
“I might have a date for you.” He knew Lisa, his fiance, would be safe at the opera. The president thought any kind of public displays of affection to be beneath corporate behavior and Ian wasn't one to flirt at any of the company events. But he didn't have the details of the date on his mind, rather something else.
“Might. What's the catch?”
Kurt drew a breath. “The Sung account needs a--”
“We hired Joshua Bernstein for that already--”
“But he hasn't taken the account yet.”
Ian frowned. “We had to pay him a generous bonus to lure him here.”
“This is his first day and what? Another week before you assign him?”
Ian put his coffee cup down and folded his arms. “You're good, Kurt, but...”
He fished his personal pad out of his jacket pocket. He powered on and flipped through his pictures to the one he knew would grab Ian. “She looks very good in a cocktail dress.” He handed the pad to his boss.
Taking it, Ian's eyebrows climbed his forehead. “I didn't think you were married?” He looked down at Kurt's left hand.
“Engaged. Her name is Lisa.”
“Very nice.” He slid his finger across the screen.
Uh oh. Kurt panicked.
“Oh, my, very nice, indeed.”
The next picture was her in bra and panties, her brunette curls seductively hanging in her eyes. He reached up and snatched the pad.
Ian went on, unphased. “I suppose you're wanting to make a trade. I take your fiance and you get the Sung account.”
Kurt nodded.
“The Sung account is one of our biggest.”
“You know I can handle it.”
Ian pursed his lips. “Your fiance accompanies me to the opera and I will temporarily assign you to the account the following Monday.”
He wilted inside, hoping for more.
“If Mister Kim decides you are acceptable, I may then assign you permanently.”
Kurt's hopes returned. It was not exactly what he had hoped, but now he had a shoe in the door. “You won't be disappointed.”
Ian sighed, and then nodded. “Very well, we have ourselves a deal.”
He stood, smiling.
“Will there be any problem with her escorting me?”
“I don't think so. She's somewhat meek.” He didn't tell his boss that she had been verbally abused by her father and offered little obstinate feminism to a man. What would he need to know that for?
“Very good then. Buy her a black cocktail dress that covers the knees. I will reimburse you for it. Have her hair up. I will pick her up at six fifteen.”
“Next Friday.”
His boss nodded. “Next Friday.”
* * *
Kurt took a sip of wine later that night.
“Do I have to?” Lisa pouted.
“It's just one night and he's giving me the Sung account.”
“The opera?”
He felt bad that it had to be something so dull for her. He liked certain opera singing but he wasn't sure even he could sit through an entire production. “At least you'll be safe. You just have to sit there with him while the president makes noise.”
“Sounds exciting.” She rolled her eyes.
“Aw, be a good sport.”
She placed a hand on his. “Oh, don't worry about me. If this is good for your position, I'll gladly do it.”
“You're a charm, Lisa.”
“He won't be expecting anything else, like a kiss or anything would he?”
“Other than your arm on his, the president doesn't like seeing affection.”
“Good. I don't want to feel like a prostitute or something because he thinks I owe him a kiss.”
Kurt chuckled, swirling the wine in his glass.
CHAPTER 2
“Don't fuss with it,” Kurt said. “You'll loosen the band.”
She wore her hair up, clamped into place with a single band of thin silver. The look was elegant. Her slender form barely filled out her dress at the hips.
“There's a hair out of place.” She yanked the thing out. “There.”
He stood behind her and lowered his nose to her neck. Her perfume was just a hint, nothing more. He breathed her in and then parted his lips for a soft neck-kiss.
“Stop that. And don't give me o
ne of those hickeys.”
He sighed happily. “I wasn't going to. I'm sure Mister Goldman is above all that.”
“I don't have to say anything to him, do I?”
“The president might ask your name. That's about it.”
“Good. I hate trying to sound like a corporate executive.”
“Hey, now.” He frowned and pinched her butt.
She squeaked. “You don't sound all too much like one--”
He pinched again.
“Ak-- Okay, I'm sorry.”
He pouted, feeling bad. He hugged her from behind, close. He could feel her little butt through the material. “Mmm...”
“Stop that. He'll be here any minute.”
“I think I want some later tonight.”
She giggled.
He reached around to the front and gently ran his fingers down her dress. They traced down over her pussy through the clothing.
She leaned her head back and parted her legs a little. “Mmm, do I have to go?”
He grunted. “I'm sorry, I just can't control myself around you.”
She giggled. “Well, you better stop or I'll be horny all night.”
The knock on their door was right on time.
Kurt opened the door to their townhouse. Ian stood there, his S-Class purring behind him parked in the no-parking zone. “She's ready, come on in.”
His boss glanced back at his car and stepped inside. He looked at his watch briefly in the typical corporate gesture of “I have other places to be.”
Lisa strolled to the door and stopped. She had never met Ian before. Her mouth hung open, slightly, as it had the day she had met Kurt. She grabbed his arm and leaned in to whisper, “You didn't tell me he was so handsome.”
Kurt chuckled nervously. “Ian, this is my fiance Lisa. Lisa, this is our corporate manager Ian.”
His boss took her outstretched hand gently and shook it once. “Charmed.” He indicated the door. “Shall we?”
Kurt watched her take his arm as they walked to his car. He sighed, feeling a little jealous that his boss would be having her attention for the next couple hours. But he knew he needn't worry; she didn't have wandering eyes.
He sat down at the desk in the office he had set up in the spare bedroom. He inserted the chip and began roaming through the Sung files.
* * *
He heard the key in the door. He got up and met Lisa coming in. Ian was there, outside.
“Thank you, Lisa,” his boss said. “You were a big help tonight.” He looked at Kurt and nodded. “Kurt.” He turned and left.
He shut the door and turned to his fiance.
She blew out a breath as if just having finished yard-work.
“That bad?” he said.
“You go next time.”
“I would if I could, but...”
“It was dreadfully dull.”
“Don't like opera?”
“I couldn't understand what they were singing. The whole thing was lost on me.”
Kurt laughed. “You're probably not supposed to understand.”
“I hope he has a girlfriend or something next year.”
“How did he treat you?”
“Like I was barely there.”
He hugged her. “Aww, I'm sorry.”
She returned the hug. “Let me get out of these shoes.”
He followed her into the bedroom.
She slipped off her shoes and put them back into the closet. Then she offered her back to him.
He unzippered her dress. “How was dinner?”
“Oh, it was good. Some fish dish I can't pronounce. That was nicer than the opera, anyway.”
He slid the dress off her shoulders. He ran his hand over her skin.
“My dress was long enough, right?”
“Yes, why?”
“Because I saw him look at my knees once during dinner.”
“You have pretty knees.” It made him feel good that someone as handsome as Ian had noticed them. But jealousy flared, too. “What was he doing looking at your knees?”
“It was when I got up to use the ladies room. That's why I asked. Are you not supposed to see knees in that atmosphere at all? The other women all had dresses like mine.”
He caressed her skin and slid his hands down over her B-cups and then hugged her from behind again. “It was the right length.”
She broke away and stepped out of her dress, bending to pick it up and lay it on the bed. She slipped out of her pantyhose.
Something stirred in him watching her undress from clothing she had worn for another man. But it warred with the jealousy. “He didn't touch you, did he?”
“Other than my arm, no. Why?”
“Just making sure.” That sounded right. Ian was not a flirt. “He didn't try talking to you?”
“Not really. Not during dinner or the opera. But he did thank me in the car.”
He felt comfortable with that. “Good.”
In bed, later, he ran his fingers up her legs and to her pussy. The vision of her undressing after being out on a date with his boss kept running through his mind.
She moaned happily and reached for his hardness. She gripped his fat six inches and stroked him.
He had found it difficult trying to make love to her the first few times. His penis was thick. Once he had stretched her out, their fit and feel was incredible. She had said he wasn't huge or small and that he was just perfect.
“So he didn't try to kiss you, did he?” The thought angered him. It made him want to drive over to Ian's house and confront him, punch him. Have it out.
“Not at all, why?” She squeezed his dick. “Wow, you're getting hard.”
“Because you're mine, not his.”
“Well, I don't think that was ever in any question.”
“Good then.” He climbed over her. Her legs parted for his advance. He dipped his fingers into her hole as he leaned over her. “If he asks for anything else, I won't feel so bad about saying yes.”
She jerked. “He might ask for more?”
“He might.” He positioned his head at her entrance and pushed. He slid into her wetness, slowly. “Who knows with him. He has functions going on all the time.”
She gasped as he reached full penetration. Her hips squirmed underneath him. “Anything but the opera.”
He pumped in and out, with tenderness. “He has his own client list and all sorts of get-togethers with them.”
She moaned, loudly, wrapping her legs around his waist. “You'll let him take me again if he needs it?”
His cock twitched and swelled. He drove into her harder. Her words played tricks in his mind. A sick feeling developed in his stomach. “Are you sure he didn't touch you?”
“Just my arm.” Her hips humped back at him, her pussy fucking his cock as much as his cock fucked her pussy.
His heat simmered a little, lowering. He felt relief. “I wonder what I might get out of him in return.”
“His other events aren't cocktail dress events, are they?”
“Not sure, really. I suppose most of them you could wear whatever you want.”
“Anything? Like jeans even?”
“Anything. Well, maybe not naked.”
She gasped in indignation. “You men.”
“Well, I wouldn't let you go naked anywhere with him.” His thrusts suddenly drove harder, claiming her pussy.
She gasped, this time in pleasure.
“This pussy is mine.” His hips slapped against hers. “And you'll be my wife in four months.”
“Yes, sir,” she panted.
CHAPTER 3
Monday was Kurt's big day – his introduction meeting with Mister Kim Sung.
Mister Kim as they called him was a big Korean man who owned a chain of Korean grocers that spanned the entire country. His previous advertising associate had retired.
Kurt sat in Mister Kim's office and looked around. There was a mixture of plants and off-white colors. A few vases were placed carefully.
There was a Feng Shui alignment to the office that spoke of a man who knew what he wanted, got what he wanted, and let no one stand in his way.
The man himself was fat. Hefty fat, like a football player. When he walked he leaned forward as if about to topple over onto the lesser men around him. He was smart, wore big gold rings, and had a tray of food off to the side of his luxurious leather chair. The smell of noodles hung in the air, and some other spice Kurt couldn't make out.
He waited patiently.
Mister Kim was on his phone, holding it daintily with his fat pinky pointing out. He used his other hand to fork up huge mouthfuls of dripping noodles. He would occasionally speak Korean into the phone, rapid-fire. When he did, chunks of noodles came out with it.
Kurt covered his eyes and looked down. The man was a pig.
There was a grunt that rose in pitch. It was Mister Kim's way of indicating he now had time for you.
He wanted to grunt back at the Korean and beat his chest like an ape. He bowed his head once and said, “I have here the current outlays and on the last page the idea I had for your chain--”
Kim grunted and skipped to the back. He grunted again, slower. “Cable guides?”
“Indeed. Those reach--”
“I like magazines.” The man was still looking at the last page of the portfolio. He began picking his nose.
Gross. “We could reach more customers--”
Flick.
Did I just see a chunk go flying? “Er, more customers as those go out to each cable customer in--”
“What's wrong with magazines?” Pick.
“Nothing's wrong with magazines, but you have to rely on the customer to buy them--”
Flick.
Sick!
“Magazines made me successful--”
“But these cable guides go to everyone--”
The look from the Korean was threatening.
Shit. Forgot you were never supposed to interrupt him.
Mister Kim looked back down and went back to picking his nose.
I'm going to barf.
“Says here you think I can increase my sales thirty-three percent.” Pick.