Getting that promotion (Part One)

I was 21 years old, it was 1993 and I was now living on my own in a small village just outside Oxford above a sweet shop.

I had lost my virginity at eighteen in a manner some might describe as unorthodox, but the experiences had given me the confidence to leave my job, move out of the family home and finally start living my life!

I was still working as a legal secretary for a reasonably sized solicitors in Oxford. I worked amongst a small team of other secretaries, led by the supervisor, Bridget, who answered directly to the director, Dennis. Bridget was, as I think the name still suggests, a woman in her late fifties, who had made no secret of her desire to retire with her husband at the end of the coming year. I got on well with the other four secretaries with the exception of one hard-nosed, ‘know-it-all’ woman called Celia.

Celia was in her thirties and had been at the practice for over ten years and was seen as the obvious choice to succeed Bridget in the role of supervisor. She was easily a couple of stone overweight and had thick ‘milk bottle’ glasses with a broad black rims. We had crossed swords a few times since I had got the job, mainly because I found her to be a bully, particularly with the younger, more timid girls in the office.

As Autumn approached, it was officially announced that Bridget would be retiring at the end of the year and her position was to be advertised internally first, perhaps being advertised externally if the position could not be filled. Celia immediately began acting as though the role was already hers and I know it shouldn’t have done, but it pissed me off. Despite the fact I didn’t need the job, didn’t really need the money and probably didn’t even want the job, I was going to get that fucking job!

I’m aware that this confession is going to make me sound as much of a bitch or perhaps even more of a bitch than Celia. I’m not proud of most of my actions but I was at a time in my life, where I really didn’t care. My mother had died the previous year from various alcohol related diseases, only six months after I had left home. The experiences of the last couple of years and the death of my mother had given me a thick skin and had made me a strong person, bordering on bitter!

The director of the business, Dennis, was in his late forties with thinning black hair. He was stocky in build, not fat, but heavy set. He wasn’t the only director, but he was the only director we ever saw actually work. The other two directors were simply names, which sat alongside that of Dennis’ on the brass plaque outside the building. It would be Dennis who would be interviewing any potential candidates and Dennis who have the final and only decision. I put my name forward and made it no secret from any of the other secretaries, including Celia, who clearly thought she was going to be only one in consideration.

In all honesty, Celia was probably the more ideal candidate, she was more experienced and probably more professional, but she couldn’t seduce Dennis and I was pretty confident I could. I would like to make it clear that Dennis was not married; he’d been divorced for the last three years. I would do anything to get the upper hand, particularly at this point in my life, but I would never knowingly have anything to do with a married man.

I had been going to the gym regularly since working in Oxford and would try to go directly from work at least three times during the week.

On this particular occasion, I had stayed late, it was about 6.30pm and the light from Dennis’ office was still on. I watched Dennis walk downstairs out to his car and open the boot. He returned to the office and began bringing archive boxes down the stairs to his boot. I could see by the fact that he’d left his boot open that he would be making a few trips, so I took the opportunity that appeared to be presenting itself to me. I quickly got my gym bag from under my desk and began to undress. I pulled my blouse straight up over my head and dragged the skirt down my legs and off my feet without even unzipping it. I threw the tights and shoes under my desk and stood there in my knickers and bra with my open gym bag in front of me.

Dennis walked back upstairs through the upper office door and saw me clearly through the glass partition to the secretary’s office. I feigned mock horror.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry, I thought you’d gone,” I spluttered.

“I need to get more files. It’s my fault, really,“ Dennis stammered nervously.

“I’m getting ready to go to the gym,” I explained.

“Good to keep fit,” Dennis chuckled.

Dennis continued to stare at me, realising I was making no effort to cover myself up.

“I’m sorry,” he apologised again and shook his head comically.

“Nothing you’ve not seen before, I’m sure?” I asked.

“Not for a while, Debbie!” Dennis replied. “I’d better get on,” he said.

Dennis walked back down the corridor towards his office. I continued to stand there in my underwear and as the cliché goes, when Dennis looked back at me before entering his office, I knew I had him.

The following morning I watched Dennis walk towards his office and almost immediately my phone rang. It was Dennis, asking me to come and see him. I entered his office, deliberately standing by the open door.

“Please come in and close the door,” Dennis told me.

“Two things really Debbie,” Dennis began. “I wanted to apologise once again for yesterday, it was unfortunate –“

“Thanks very much,” I interrupted, playing the offended party.

“Oh no, not like that, far from it,” Dennis continued.

“I just wanted to say apologise once more. Anyway I see you’ve applied the role of supervisor, you probably know there is one other candidate so I’ll probably begin interviewing later this week, it will be after work if that’s okay with you? Probably Thursday?” Dennis asked.

“Thursday’s fine. It’s normally a gym night, so I may well have to arrive for my interview in just my underwear, if that’s o.k with you?" I joked.

“Let’s get the interview out of the way first,” Dennis replied and smiled.

“I’ll look forward to it. See you then,” I answered.

As I made my way back to my desk, I was aware of how aroused I was. Flirting with Dennis had gotten me worked up. I had always preferred older partners, both men and women. Since losing my virginity, I’d had a few experiences with men my own age, but they were always in such a rush. Older men were far more considerate and could definitely last longer. Flirting with Dennis reminded me of my times with Alan and the memories made my pussy nice and wet.

Celia had hardly spoken to me since finding out we were in mortal combat with each other. She was going to be interviewed first on the Wednesday evening. I was being interviewed Thursday, with any potential announcement being made on Friday.

I decided to keep my distance from Dennis until my interview. I didn’t want to appear too obvious and I didn’t want him to think of me as a stupid bimbo. I knew I could do the job of a supervisor. I didn’t want the role simply based on my breast size, so I knew I genuinely needed the interview to go well.

Thursday morning arrived and Celia was full of bravado, talking loudly on the telephone about how well the interview had gone the previous evening. I wanted that job for all the wrong reasons, but it was going to feel fucking brilliant when I could rub her nose in it. I had brought a change of clothes with me for my interview that evening, nothing slutty, but a smart professional business suit. It did, however, make full use of my bosom and showed my arse off a bit.

At the end of a long day, I made my way to the toilet to freshen up and change. As I stripped down to my underwear, I gave my freshly trimmed pussy a rub. I could smell my arousal. It had been almost a month since I’d had sex and I was feeling pretty horny as I knocked on Dennis’ door.

The interview, what there was of it, was almost non-existent. Dennis explained that in terms of ability, there was nothing to choose between Celia and myself and he explained that he would like to simply chat about me as a person, and about my likes and dislikes. As I began talking and answering his questions, it occurred to me that Dennis was probably the first person I could ever remember, who had asked me any questions about myself and I found myself talking far more openly about things I had never told anyone. Not sexual talk; more personal stuff, looking after my Mother from a young age, my Dad leaving her because he couldn’t cope and things that I didn’t even know were there. I soon realised how good it felt to open up about things that had clearly been inside me for a very long time.

I saw the clock on the desk and realised we’d been talking for well over an hour and I had lost focus on what I was trying to achieve.

“This isn’t much of an interview. I’m supposed to be showing you my good side,” I said.

“You’re doing fine,” Dennis reassured me.

“Anyway, you’ve already seen my good side, the other night,” I teased.

Dennis held his hands above his head. “And I apologised for that,” he said.

“You’ve nothing to apologise for. I liked you looking,” I told him, immediately worrying that was too much, too soon.

“You don’t need to say that,” Dennis told me.

I looked at him. “It’s true,” I told him.

Dennis offered a half smile and a shrug. I could see he didn’t believe me.

“Wait there, please,” I told him and I left the room briefly.

I returned to his office, with my gym bag in my hand and placed it on his desk.

“What’s this?” Dennis asked, confused.

“I’m going to the gym,” I told him.

I took off my jacket and began to unbutton my blouse. Dennis jumped from his seat.

“Debbie, no no no, you don’t need to do this,” he pleaded.

“I don’t need to, that’s true. But I want to,” I replied, gesturing to his seat for him to sit down.

Dennis sat back down; his head looking left and right to ensure the office was empty.

“Everyone’s gone and the office door is locked,” I reassured him.

I slowly removed my blouse, revealing my black bra. I sat back down on my chair and pulling my skirt up onto my thighs, I began to pull down my tights. Dennis stared intently up my skirt as I kicked the tights off my ankles. I stood again, unzipping the skirt before letting it fall to the floor.

I stood in front of the desk, dressed only in matching black knickers and bra.

I reached into my bag and pulled out an unflattering white sports bra. I laid it down on the desk as I began undoing the sexier black bra.

“I can’t wear this to the gym, they’ll be bouncing around all over the place,” I teased.

I allowed the bra to fall into my hands and stared at Dennis as I let my breasts fall free. I put the bra on the back of the chair. I looked back into my bag and pulled out a pair of lycra cycling shorts.

“Now, I wouldn’t normally wear any knickers with these, because it can leave an unflattering line. I placed the shorts on the back of my chair.

I put a hand on either side of my knickers and looked at Dennis.
“You can tell me to stop at any point you want,” I told him.

Dennis was staring at my knickers, I wasn’t even sure he’d heard me. I turned around with my back to Dennis and slower than I’ve ever removed an item of clothing before, I gently pulled my knickers down, bending all the way down to my ankles to remove them.

I could feel the air against my arse and pussy as I bent over to take my knickers in my hand. God, I loved that feeling. I would describe myself as a submissive because I like being told that to do, but as contradicting as it may seem, the feeling of power I had over Dennis at that moment was immense.
I turned back around to face him, completely naked.

“Stop,” Dennis told me, smiling.

I returned the smile.

“What would you like me to do?” I asked.

Dennis left his chair and walked around behind me. I could feel his breath on my neck.

“Bend over,” he told me.

I pushed the chair to one side and lent forward, my breasts feeling the cold of the oak as I lowered them onto his desk.

Dennis began to rub my arse, squeezing my cheeks. I could feel the bulge of this trousers and the buckle of his belt against my bum.

“You are so naughty, Debbie,” Dennis told me.

“Yes I am,” I told him, unapologetically.

“What do you want?” he asked.

“Whatever YOU want, “ I answered.

Dennis was now rubbing his hands over my back, reaching around to roughly grab at my tits.

“Oh fuck, you’re so dirty,” he kept telling me.

My pussy was on fire, I desperately needed it filled.

“Fuck me, please,” I begged.

“You want to be fucked, do you Debbie?” Dennis asked firmly.

“Please Dennis, please fuck me!” I begged.

I heard the unbuckling of his belt and the sound of his trousers hitting the floor. His hand grabbed my hair to pull me back. His other hand pushed his cock straight into my cunt as he immediately began pounding into me.

His speed took me by surprise and he was pulling hard at my hair. I’d underestimated just quite how pent up his sexual frustration had been and he was wasting no time in releasing it.

His other hand has now on my breasts, grabbing at it and pinching my nipples, which I had long since learnt to absolutely adore.

I groaned loudly, which gave Dennis some obvious encouragement as he began to fuck me harder and talk dirty to me.

“You like that, do you?” Dennis asked, as he pinched my nipples between his finger and thumb.

“Oh yes,” I answered.

Dennis began slapping at my arse as he fucked me. His cock felt of average size but his balls felt enormous as they banged against me.

“You little slut,” Dennis was telling me.

I couldn’t believe it but I was going to cum. After all the disappointment of young men neglecting foreplay and just wanting to get their own rocks off, this man was taking me more brutally than I’d ever been fucked before and it was bringing me to an orgasm.

“Oh God, Dennis, I’m going to cum,” I told him.

“Fuck baby, I’m going to cum all over your arse,” Dennis shouted.

Dennis was gripping onto my hips as he banged into me, forcing me over the edge to an incredible orgasm that would have shaken me to the floor, if he hadn’t been holding me.

I fell forward onto his desk as Dennis withdrew and sprayed his hot juice over my arse. Dennis rubbed his cum over me with his cock before falling back into his chair.

“Fucking hell Dennis. I might have to give the gym a miss,” I told him.