“... and we continue to see promising momentum in our Gen Y-factor line, where sales increased 22% in the quarter, with strong demand evident for the retro-styled merchandise. These successes underpin our confidence in the direction of our model. Over the last quarter, as more of these exciting concepts are hitting the market, it’s obvious that we are not only maintaining momentum but… uh… we are not only maintaining momentum…”

Kellen paused in front of the bathroom mirror, his hands frozen in the act of tying his necktie.

He took a deep breath and continued, “...maintaining momentum and…”

The words tickled and clogged in his throat. His dark, furrowed brow dipped low from his brain bouncing repeatedly against his cranium while he tried to recall his speech.

“... maintaining momentum.... but… fuck. Butt fuck. Butt… FUCKED!” he spat. His thoughts were so much vapor at this point. To top it off, he had mindlessly trapped his thumb in the knot of his tie. With his free hand, he gave the mirror the finger and a defiant, “Go butt fuck yourself.”

Nearly strangling himself as he ripped the tie from around his neck, he stormed back into the bedroom, fuming and cursing.

It was 7 a.m.

With the blinds of the condo drawn against the emerging sunshine outside, the bedroom was cast in a dull, dull grey hue. It matched Kellen's mood.

He regarded the bed sourly. Emma was splayed out amongst the swell of blankets, pillows and sheets. She was in her typical belly down, spread eagle position having unconsciously claimed the bed as her domain overnight yet again. Her current tranquility was deceiving. Each morning, Kellen counted himself lucky if she hadn’t kicked him off and onto the floor at least once during the night due to her tumultuous nocturnal habits. Playing full contact hockey paled in comparison to the pummeling she often gave him while asleep.

Last night, he was not so lucky. On top of the standard throttling, she had also given his “boys” a forceful how-do-you-do introduction to her sock-covered foot at around 2 a.m. Then she unconsciously evicted him from the bed, shoving him onto the floor with a hip check, before snuggling the blankets and pillows.

It was as if she was still conducting her fitness classes in her sleep.

Now, with her round hiney propped up by a pillow which she was suffocating beneath her crotch, her pink panties that wrapped her bottom --perfect, aside from a slight, uneven wedgie-- just taunted Kellen like a kid giving him the raspberry. He stared at her, listening to the soft, contented purr of her breath as she slept. The woman was a log, a milky, freckled-skinned log with a tousle of pumpkin-spice hair covering her face. She was in full-on, blissful slumber mode, a veritable Sleeping Beauty dreaming of her dashing prince.

His eyes narrowed as he smirked. Yeah, well, screw that.

Kellen strode over to the windows and exposed them with a terse tug of the blinds’ drawstrings. The sun stabbed through the floor-to-ceiling glass, invading the once glum room with a flood of brilliant gold and amber. A shimmering blanket of warm light cascaded over Emma’s prone body, highlighting her curves with glistening glow and dark shadow.

Emma didn’t flinch.

He glared at her. After a moment, she rolled onto her back, flopping over her hair, revealing her face, slightly flushed from having been pressed into the mattress. Her eyes still closed, she smacked her small, pink lips for a second then resumed her wispy breaths, undisturbed.

Grimacing, he cocked his head back in agitated amazement. Looking more carefully, he noted the curl at the edge of her lips. Emma often smiled in her sleep, sometimes even giggling softly, with some sort of amusing dream apparently tickling her fancy and various parts of her snoozing body. Normally, he would find it somewhat endearing and sometimes even temptingly naughty depending on if there was a devilish edge in her unconscious grin.

Not this morning, though.

“Shit,” he muttered as he checked the clock. He wasn’t going to get this presentation speech down before work. The tension from realizing this fact twisted up from his back, up through to his neck till it squeezed each of his facial muscles into itty-bitty knots. He cursed aloud again, ”Shit!”

“Mmm?” Emma offered only a dozy hum in reply. She yawned and stretched languidly. Then, pushing back on her heels slowly like a frog flipped on its back, she scooched towards the edge of the bed. Her head drooped over, her hair draping down almost to the floor. Her t-shirt bunched high over her chalk-white belly but clung to her perky breasts, anchored by a perfectly pert and pokey pair of nipples.

As gravity pulled her mouth open wide, she began to snore.

That did it.

“Emma!” Kellen snapped.

The woman’s bright jade eyes slipped open slowly, then eventually rounded to attention before squinting as the sun finally reached her. Nonplussed by the stunning sunlight, she yawned and stretched again, a smile on her upside-down mouth. “‘Morning, lover,” she greeted, “What’cha doing on the ceiling?”

“Pants,” Kellen said.

Emma paused, regarding his bare legs and his black briefs, then replied, “You’re not wearing any. I approve.”

“Do I have any ironed slacks?” he asked, pressing forward.

“Umm… did you check the closet?” she said, yawning.

“Yes.”

“How about in your drawers?”

“Yeah.”

Her translucent eyes shifted left and she bobbed her rust-red brows. “How about the chair?”

“The cha…?” Kellen turned and spotted a pair of pristinely ironed grey slacks hanging off the vanity chair. It had been in plain view of Emma the entire time. “You couldn’t have said that first?”

“They were so obvious, I thought you saw them but wanted another pair,” she said, yawning once more and smacking her tongue and lips. She rolled over again onto her stomach, kicking her sock-covered heels up behind her. Folding her hands beneath her chin, she looked up with a musing smile while he shoved his legs into his pants and strapped on his belt. “You seem agitated.”

Kellen began to fuss violently with his tie again. “Damn presentation. Can’t get my speech down,” he grumbled.

Emma checked the clock then regarded him again. “Isn’t that at nine? You’ve got two hours. Plenty of time to relax.”

“I don’t need to relax. I need to remember the frigging words,” he said, still fighting his tie. The strap of silk was about to win round two.

Still smiling, Emma sighed and beckoned him to her with a lazy wave of her hand. “Come.”

Kellen trudged over like a sulking schoolboy and stood over her. Standing between her and the sun, his frame cast a shadow over the length of her trim, tight body.

“Kneel down,” she instructed, still on her belly.

“I’ll wrinkle my pants,” he mumbled.

“I’ll iron them again,” she replied with an unfazed shrugged, then pointed to the floor. “Down.”

Kellen knelt onto the carpet facing her, pouting his lower lip crookedly. He sighed heavily and raised his chin. He didn’t feel like looking at her even as she continued to tease him with a subtle, playful grin.

As she deftly did up his tie, she said, “I told you to get some sleep last night. You’ve already prepped for days. Going through it again past midnight was just going to just wind you up. You needed rest.”

He eyed her, hesitating to tell her how she didn’t help with his sleep, how she basically tenderized him through the night, how she hoofed his balls through the uprights. He thought better of it. She would have probably just giggled at him, amplifying his annoyance.

As her feet alternated crossing at the ankles, Emma finished knotting his tie and patted it down flat on his chest and adjusted his collar. “Relax. Your speech will come to you if you just ease your mind.”

“‘Ease my mind’,” he grumbled. This was his first time presenting to the heads of the company on his own. He had to make an impact, an impression. He knew it was do or die if he wanted to climb that corporate ladder.

A slender smile slanted her lips as she tilted her head side-to-side, her chin back on her hands. “Breathe,” she said. Then she fluttered her fingers as she waved her hand in the air and added, “Let the positive vibes flow.”

Still kneeling before her, Kellen rolled his eyes. There was Emma’s super-positivity showing again. It seemed that due to her being a fitness instructor, she didn’t have an off-switch for her motivational proclivity.

“And if that doesn’t work,” she paused and shrugged, “screw them.”

He smirked. “Easy for you to say.”

Emma pushed herself up onto her elbows. “No, seriously. I mean screw them.”

Kellen’s chin dropped to his chest, plastering a limp gaze on her. “You want me to screw the Directors?”

“Will the head of marketing be there? The one with the huge boobs? What’s her name... Inga?”

“Ilsa. Yeah,” he said, nodding. Emma had met the Marketing Executive at their last Christmas party. After, she had expressed her admiration for the striking, silvery-blonde vixen’s Valkyrie-sized breasts, but not so much her collagen-infused lips which would give a giant squid pucker envy. Emma noted that she could tell the statuesque woman’s presence made Kellen uneasy. It kind of turned her on.

She scooted onto her knees upon the bed. “Just focus on her.”

Kellen stood, still maintaining a scoffing grin. “Then what? Imagine her naked? That sort of thing? Great idea.”

“She doesn’t have to be naked. Her boobs might be too distracting, to be honest.” Emma suddenly pulled at the collar of her shirt, peeked down underneath with a pout, and sighed.

Kellen shook his head, bemused. “Don’t worry, Em. I love your breasts.”

He did. Her supple boobs settled nicely into the cup of his palms and fingers.

“Thank you,” she said with a reassured bob of her chin. She sat up on the bed, legs folded beneath her, hands on her knees. She continued, “Just give Ilsa your speech.”

“What does that mean?”

“Give it to her like she’s the only one in the room.”

He winced. “I can’t just stare and talk at one person in the room. That’d be weird.”

“You don’t stare, you keep moving your head, but you only ‘see’ her,” she explained with air quotes, “and you’re not talking to her, you’re giving her your speech.”

Kellen's eyes narrowed. “You keep saying ‘give it to her.’”

Spiking her brow, Emma spoke through a sharp slant at the edge of her lips. “Yeah, make her take it.”

He paused, incredulous, staring at his girlfriend on the bed with the lurid slant on her mouth at 7 a.m. in the morning.

“All your energy, your attention… just grab her with it and thrust it on her,” Emma continued, evidently arousing herself with the idea.

“Em…” Kellen scoffed and turned away.

She stepped off the bed and followed him around the bedroom. “Trust me. Your passion, your drive will just come out naturally. It’ll get everyone’s attention.”

“I’m more worried about what's going on down there,” he said, pausing to nod down to his pants, “will grab their attention.”

When he looked up, Emma stood before him holding her chin, looking contemplative. “Well… maybe we can do something about that,” she said with another coy shrug of her shoulder towards her chin.

Kellen regarded her crookedly. “What do you suggest?”

“Let’s do a dry run,” she replied.

She led him over to their full-length wardrobe mirror and faced him towards it, standing behind.

“Now imagine Ilsa sitting there in front of you,” she said, propping up his shoulders and straightening his back.

He gestured at the mirror and asked, “How do I do that when all I see is me?”

“You’re thinking about how you look and sound too much. That’s what this exercise is all about,” Emma replied. “It’s about focus. You won’t see yourself anymore if you’re focused. Now, picture Ilsa.”

Kellen sighed, but then shook off his doubt for a moment and stood upright, fixing his eyes ahead.

“She’s leaning back in her seat, hands on her lap, legs crossed, showing off their length,” Emma said smoothly at his ear as they both looked into the mirror.

Ilsa always liked to wear black, sheer stockings, Kellen suddenly recalled. He looked aside for a moment thinking about them, the way she revealed more and more of the nylons when she sat, her tight skirt hiking higher up her legs till he could see the clasp of her garter strap. Then he refocused ahead toward the mirror, blinking away the frown in his brow and taking a cleansing breath.

“Good,” Emma remarked, patting his back and arms gently, “I can already feel you relaxing. So, whenever you’re ready...”

Kellen set his eyes ahead and started, “Thank you for the introduction, Avery. Good morning, everyone. I’m pleased to be here today to talk about the exciting and highly positive results of our last quarter…”

As he progressed through the first part of his presentation, Emma quietly stepped around him, brushing her fingers up and down his sleeve, a gently soothing touch. Kellen could see the slanted curve on her small, plush lips, but her eyes told him to continue on and pay her no mind.

“We had rightly anticipated the weak start to the year, and successfully navigated those challenges positioning ourselves for record-breaking sales the remainder of the year,” he continued.

Emma had positioned herself, as well, just beside the mirror, facing him, her hands playfully folded behind her back. A slight wiggle shifted her round hips. She nodded her encouragement.

In his mind’s eye, he saw Ilsa’s ocean blue eyes fixed on him. Her finger drifted along her chin, her thumb skimming the edge of her ruby painted lips as she hung on his every word. She shifted in her chair, her hips slowly swaying the seat side-to-side, her black skirt easing up millimetre-by-millimetre.

“You’re doing great, lover,” Emma mouthed, exaggerating the motion of her lips and tongue.

“We continue to see promising momentum in our Gen Y-factor line, where sales increased 22% in the quarter, with strong demand evident for the retro-merchandise,” Kellen spoke confidently, punching the words from his mouth. He imagined Ilsa licking her lips, intrigued by his bravado.

He didn’t hesitate when Emma --suddenly affecting a mischievous vixen’s grin-- eased down to her knees and shimmied up to him, nor did he flinch when she stroked her fingers tenderly at the crotch of his slacks as if she was easing aside the tall grass. All the while, he thought of Ilsa sliding off her chair, slinking on the ground towards him. The moment Emma unbuckled his belt, unzipped his pants and pulled them down his legs, Ilsa was there in front of him.

“We are not only maintaining momentum,” Kellen spoke with punctuated authority, feeling his girlfriend gather him assuredly with her soft hand and then flicking her tongue at his tip, “but we’re surging forward, continuing to lead and drive the market, not follow or be carried by it.”

Emma curved and curled her body like a cat before him as she licked then sucked his cock, angling for position under and over and beside his extended, hard shaft. Her tongue fluttered along the length, darting against the peak of his tip before inhaling him over and over, pulling and pushing her silky lips back and forth. She pawed gingerly at his balls, a welcome contrast to how she had treated them in her sleep. While she did so, he pictured Ilsa fondling them as she wrapped her plump lips over his tip.

“Our main thrust will come from our latest lines that will target the optimum spending age group which has proven to be an insatiable market for trendy sportswear.”

While Kellen delivered his presentation with admirable resolve despite the activities going on at his cock and in his head, Emma was proving to be adept at zealous multitasking, as well. Though he had the pleasurable image of her round ass and slender back shifting and swaying in the mirror, he could tell that her free hand had dipped under her panties in the front.

A satisfied, invigorating hum reached his ears as he continued to speak, while she worked his cock in her mouth and with her tongue. At the same time, she steadily swirled her fingers along her pussy, and he watched her back flinch and hitch provocatively whenever she hit just the right spot.

“I can confirm our full-year guidance as given at the end of the last quarter with only some minor changes.” Kellen’s voice deepened, giving his words the proper command and authority they deserved. Before him, Ilsa sat on the edge of the conference table, heels up, towering legs splayed, her attention riveted upon him. She played with herself, teasing at her panties, a sultry smoulder in her eyes and parted lips.

Emma churned his stiff cock in her mouth, puckering her lips around the tip, smearing it with her glossy saliva before sinking it back down over his shaft. She looked up, fluttering her lashes over her dreamy green eyes, daring him to be lured by her tempting gaze, before shutting her lids and concentrating her efforts when he didn’t take the bait.

Both hands were preoccupied now. With her mouth sustaining his cock, her other hand joined in her self-pleasuring, pushing up her shirt, fondling her firm, exposed breasts and tweaking her nipples taut. Her sudden gasps rattled along Kellen’s cock, sending a wave up his body, emerging with a burst of energy from his throat. He hit words like “intensity”, “bold”, and “demand” with insistent verve and gusto.

And with each swell of his confidence, he pictured driving into Ilsa with sharp thrusts, giving her what she wanted, making her take what he had to offer. He could feel her long, painted fingernails scratching at his back and wending through his hair, pulling him against her ample tits as her plump red lips rounded wide and implored him for more. Her striking blue eyes locked onto him as he bore down on her hard with rugged thrusts. She needed everything he had, and he gave her everything he got.

With a hardened jaw, a steel, yet compelling gaze, and the slightest growl in his deepened voice, Kellen marched to his conclusion. “Therefore, ladies and gentlemen, I have no doubt that you will be pleased not only with our current results, but I am beyond confident that the position of our brand will be secure and profitable for years to come.”

Emma moaned sharply, right then. He could see her body trembling in the mirror and felt the quiver of her lips on his sensitive shaft as she brought herself to orgasm. With pitchy breaths, she continued to coo and hum as she slid her mouth over his dripping cock, soaking her panties and her fingers.

Suddenly aware of where he was and the moment, Kellen felt the twisting tightness deep in his core and the pulse surging along his crotch. In his head, he heard Ilsa cry out, her rich groan resounding in the large boardroom as she came forcefully over his thrusting cock. With that, he drew an unsteady breath and held it. Watching his mouth hanging open in the mirror, he groaned, then his whole body shook and rattled.

Emma held her head steady at his crotch as he grasped her shoulder and long, red hair. He came in her warm, wet mouth, his twitching cock spitting strands of jism onto her tongue and palette. Another deep, satisfying groan echoed from his throat, while she sucked him clean.

His girlfriend withdrew her glossy lips slowly from his tip. Then she eased back in her kneeling seat and looked up, smiling, batting her eyelashes slowly, with the morning sun just lighting up her bright, blushing face.

Kellen’s chin dropped to his chest as he regarded her. He breathed out, “Thank you again for your time. It was my privilege to present to you this morning.”

Emma grinned, her hand still behind her panties, caressing her pussy. She giggled softly, “It was a privilege for me, too.”

He sighed. The relaxed feeling, the ease he felt throughout was as refreshing as a goodnight’s sleep.

She rose to her feet, wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a kiss. Then she leaned back and said, “You have me sold. What about Ilsa?”

He pursed his lips and nodded. “I think she’d be satisfied if I say so myself.”

“I think so, too.” She smiled and patted him on the chest. “Show her what you got, lover.”

She pushed her lips against his for a kiss.

"I thought this was supposed to be a dry run," he said as Emma dragged a gentle grip around his spunk smeared cock while they continued to exchange pecks. "More like a wet run."

"Well, now you don't have to worry about any early warning signals down there," she said, laughing softly.

They continued to kiss before the mirror before she stepped back and nodded downward. “I’ll iron your pants again.”

Instead, Kellen pulled her back to him. Cinching his hands around her butt, he picked her up and turned towards the bed, kicking his pants aside. “It’s still early. I’ve got time. Gonna need to take a shower, anyway,” he said. As he felt her toned thighs clench around his torso while he cradled her, he added, “I want to make sure I’m fully relaxed before my meeting. I want everyone’s attention on my eyes, not my pants.”

Emma undid his tie once again, and they tumbled onto the mess of blankets and pillows, warmed by the morning sun. Immediately testing her physical threshold with rugged thrusts of his hips, Kellen, unlike during the night, was a willing participant in his girlfriend’s rigorous callisthenics upon the bed.

~~~0~~~

Kellen sat outside the boardroom, gazing aside with a hint of an easy, confident smile along his lips. The door opened and Avery peeked out.

“Hey, Kellen. They’re ready for you now.”

As he stood, he grinned to himself. No. No, they were not ready for him, he mused boldly. Definitely not Ilsa.

Entering the room, he glanced around for the blonde Marketing Executive seeking to make eye contact immediately.

“Everyone’s here except, Ilsa,” Avery noted. “She had to fly to New York last night.”

Kellen stopped and frowned. “Oh…”

“You’ve met Len Wilkerson, VP of Marketing, though?” Avery gestured to a round, bespectacled gentleman seated at the front of the table. “He’ll be attending in her stead.”

Ilsa’s replacement nodded at him, highlighting his grey, thinning comb-over. He remarked jovially, “Eager to see what you got, Kellen.”

Kellen barely managed to wrinkle his lips in response, a bead of sweat squeezing from his temple.

“Butt fucked,” he thought.