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Mix Up 2 - Power Games

"Jennifer's day at the company turns out quite different and rather revealing."

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The next morning dawned far too early, but I couldn’t keep the smile from my lips when sticky fluids on my body confirmed that this had not been a dream. There was this urge to whistle a tune while I showered and stowed away any personal things.

I was done all too soon, and with almost an hour to kill before my cab arrived, I fetched a bun from the breakfast room and started to write down last night’s events on a sheet of hotel stationery as a makeshift diary in all their gritty details. My heart was beating a mile a minute by the time I finished the entry, and while I described the naughty feeling that the stranger’s forceful ways had kindled in me, fresh moisture was already starting to soak the already soiled panties I had once again pulled up my legs in a deviant act of naughtiness.

I looked at the mirror and grinned. The business dress, black and formal at the first glance, enhanced my figure quite well. I had picked a blouse one size too small. The last few buttons open, it yielded to the soft push from my chest and allowed just the right glimpses of my cleavage. I could already picture the flustered, drooling faces I was going to meet. The skirt was a classic tube-like cut, but the white seam at the side never failed to draw looks and hint about the legs hidden underneath the fabric.

I had done my hair in a bun today, with a few curly locks on one side left to dangle, framing my face in a coquettish way and providing me with a failsafe weapon to break through every man’s concentration. To twirl it around my finger was usually enough to do the trick, and if I bit my lip and sent them a thoughtful look, their gazes invariable dropped to my cleavage. Men were hilarious. I strapped my killer heels, as I like to call them, to my feet and put on my frame-less glasses. They only held plain window glass, mind you, but they added that sophisticated touch that made men melt.

* * * * *

The cab ride took barely five minutes, so I could take the time and get a feel for the building I entered. The outside was a the usual, nondescript flatness of steel and glass, but the inside was a pleasant surprise. Instead of the vast emptiness that was the fashion for entrance halls, I encountered a still big but homely hall with dark, plush carpeting and luscious red walls, the square, wooden furniture and huge ferns giving it a decidedly Asian vibe. I liked it, which did not happen often.

"Jennifer Redstone," I introduced myself while I stepped up to the reception desk and gave the girl there a polite smile, "I’m with Blackwood Consulting and have an appointment with Mr. Bellfort."

"Just a moment please, Mrs. Redstone." She typed something into her computer and nodded, and I breathed a sigh of relief that this wasn’t one of the places where you had to wait half an hour until they could get a call through to whomever you were visiting.

"Here’s your badge." She handed me a small plastic square with my name and company printed on it and earned another bonus point when I found a spring clip on the back instead of a safety pin. "Please make sure that you wear it at all times in the building, and please return it to me when you leave. If you would wait over there," she pointed to a small group of comfy looking leather couches, "Mr. Bellfort's assistant will be with you in a minute."

"Thank you," I glanced at her nameplate and gifted her another smile, "Amy." Friendly and efficient, a model receptionist. The beaming smile that answered me was cute.

* * * * *

"Mrs. Redstone?"

The female voice startled me a bit, but I tried not to let that be noticed. I stood up and turned towards its owner, extending my hand and cringing inwardly.

"Carmen Turini, I’m Mr. Bellfort’s personal assistant."

If not for her dress being navy blue instead of black, we may as well have worn the same outfit. She had my height and figure too, and despite her hair being black and only loosely pulled back, I felt for an unsettling moment as if I was looking into a mirror. The corners of her mouth quirked up, and I knew that she had meant to startle me. Bitch.

"So nice to meet you, Mrs. Turini." I shook her hand firmly.

"I’m afraid that Mr. Bellfort can’t be with us from the start. A minor emergency has come up, but he will join us as soon as he has dealt with it."

That happened more often than not when dealing with company heads, and I had almost expected it. She still hadn’t let go of my hand though.

"And please call me Carmen."

The sweet smile didn’t reach her eyes, and the power game was on. There was that short moment again where I wanted to refuse the offer. She was the secretary and I was the senior consultant, and she was tilting the power balance in her favor. Controlling the length of the handshake. Equalizing our levels by switching to given names. She was a predator, like me.

"Thank you, Carmen," I shook her hand with both of mine for a second, "I’m Jennifer." If you can’t avoid them, tread into their personal space. The flicker of annoyance in her eyes made my insides cheer.

* * * * *

The meeting room was grand, I had to admit that, with expensive furniture and wall-filling projector screens.The hushed silence that fell over the waiting managers when we entered stirred a wonderful feeling inside me. Their eyes were glued to me from the first moment, and when I made the rounds and introduced myself, they almost fell over themselves, jumping up from their chairs too quickly and spluttering their names and positions.

I’m not really good with names, so I used some memory tricks to file them away into the correct drawers with the faces. Mr. Holmes, head of accounting, I could easily imagine in a checkered suit like his fictional English name-sake, so remembering him was no trouble. His neighbor, Mr. Bradhurst, I termed the wide one. One seat was hardly enough for him. I found a good image to go with each of their names, and I had a brilliant time grinning at them while I mocked them in my mind. Predictable sheep.

One of them, Arden Hofman, tried to start a game by winking suggestively at me, but he wilted under my condescending smile like a flower in the oven. This was going to be fun, I thought, despite Carmen’s presence.

I connected my laptop to the projector and started my presentation. The first fifteen minutes were always the same boring routine. Our company does bla bla, your company does bla bla. Carmen was watching me intently while I reeled off my spiel. There was something in her look that I couldn’t quite grasp, and her unblinking stare managed to unsettle me for a moment. It was only a second, and I didn’t even stammer, but I saw the acknowledgment twinkle in her eyes. The men didn’t notice a thing.

"So our job will be to define realistic targets and reachable milestones, and to support you along the way by coaching your target meetings and identifying any factors that slow you down in reaching said targets. It will still be your expertise, your leadership, your targets and your decisions that steer the company. We will not draw up thousands of pages with so-called recommendations that ignore the reality of your work, like some of our famous competitors likely do." I paused. This was the core message. We are the good guys, the others are bad.

Slow claps sounded behind me, and I was about to turn around, when a voice froze me in my spot.

"That was very interesting and," he paused for a second, "intriguing."

My heart wanted to jump out of my chest. This couldn’t be? But then I did turn around and my eyes fell on him.

Yes, it was him! The gleeful amusement in his eyes made me dizzy and the room started to spin. I took deep breaths, but then he stepped closer and the same power that had pulled me under his spell yesterday washed over me again. I feared that I might start trembling.

"Anthony Bellfort," he shamelessly looked me up and down, but otherwise his tone kept business-like, "that was a brilliant presentation, Mrs. Redstone." His hand captured mine and made me want to throw all conventions out of the window and myself into his strong arms.

My throat felt dry and I had to swallow. "Please call me Jennifer. I - I am glad you liked what I had to say." God, I sounded like a schoolgirl.

My back was to the rest of the room, but I could feel Carmen’s eyes on me. The little byplay had surely not gone unnoticed by her. But there was no time to think about it, because he brushed his thumb over the back of my hand, just a small gesture that tingled like mad and made my knees weak.

"Why don’t you take a seat," he asked with a smile, letting go of my hand and giving me back some ability for conscious thought, "and we’ll ask the questions that I’m sure are waiting on the tips of everyone's tongues?"

"Sure," I answered and felt a warm fluttering in my stomach when he pulled out the chair for me.

He sat down on the opposite end of the table, next to Carmen, and the dazzling smile she sent him and the way she bent close to him and whispered into his ear were plainly meant to stake out her territory.

Its effects were exactly the opposite of what she was hoping to achieve, though. True, the mortification still lingered, and I couldn’t hold his gaze for a second without blushing, but it was me who had sex with him last night. Pee on his lamp posts all you want, kitty, I whispered inside my head, but it’s me who carries his scent. I grinned at her.

Which didn’t deter her at all, and the knowing smile that answered me was a bit disconcerting. He wouldn’t have told her about last night, would he?

But I almost missed the first question and had to pull myself back into the dreary reality of the conference room. Most of their concerns circled around decision making and whether we’d try to influence them to change their strategies, concerns which I could easily and with a good conscience counter. Then somebody, inevitably, mentioned layoffs, and despite my best efforts, the discussion got heated, even though there was no reason for that.

When things got too emotional and Mr.

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Bellfort didn’t make a move to reign in his subordinates, I stood up and cleared my throat. "Please listen!" I got their attention. "One of our main guidelines is that we do not take on clients that do not have a healthy company structure. If we get the contract, layoffs will be a sign of failure for us. We aim for growth, and we will be held to that."

The main squabble won, the following questions were tame in comparison, and the last thirty minutes were just repetitions of earlier topics.

"Thank you all." Mr. Bellfort had apparently heard enough and stood up. "I do believe we have covered all sides, and I want to say a special thank you to Mrs. Redstone for taking the time and answering all our questions. I have a few of my own for her, but we will discuss those in my office. I will inform you of any decisions I make at the executive meeting on Monday."

Damn. How did he do it? The moment he mentioned us being alone in his office, these swirling butterflies were back in my tummy, making me feel like a teenager in love instead of the tough business woman I was. The managers filed out after shaking my hand, some a bit too long, and I stowed the laptop back in my bag.

* * * * *

His office was just like I had imagined it. Spacious, but not too big, a heavy writing desk made from almost black wood and shining like new, and plush chairs with high backs. The inevitable collection of certificates covered one wall, but the other was taken up by an expensive looking, big wine rack. Lawn and trees could be seen through the ceiling-high windows and made it feel a lot less artificial than others I had been in.

"Jennifer," he said while he closed the door behind us and guided me through the room, one hand on my elbow, "I’ll be quite frank. I’m impressed by your presentation and by the honesty with which you answered all their questions. I’m sure we will come to an agreement about the financial side, so let me make it short and sweet. You have the contract if you can meet two small stipulations."

I turned fully towards him, and my eyes must have echoed the twinge of disappointment that we wouldn’t spend more time together over negotiations, guessing by his questioning expression.

"If this is about yesterday," I began hesitantly, "that was a private thing. If you want to keep that out of the business side, I fully understand. I’ll… "

"It is about yesterday," he cut into my words, "but I will not keep those two things separate."

Suddenly, his face was only inches from mine, and I could feel his hot breath tickly my lips. He was just these three inches taller than me now, so I would have to stand on tip-toes to kiss him. Where had that thought come from?

His hand buried itself in my head and my head was pulled back. I arched my back and a small gasp escaped my throat.

"Tell me, are you wearing the same panties again?."

There it was again, that hungry look in his eyes that made me shiver with longing. I nodded, my cheeks a sea of flames.

"Give them to me."

"Here? Now?" I stared at him with wide eyes.

"Give. Them. To. Me." His voice was quiet and soft, but it held such an undertone of conviction that I couldn’t refuse.

There was a moment when my lower body was exposed, until I could push the panties down and let the skirt’s hem cover me again, but his gaze was locked with mine. I had to crouch low to get them over my sandals, but all too quickly I was holding them up by the waistband, my fingers trembling and my whole body flushed.

"Thank you." He picked them up and brought them to his face, inhaling deeply. "You smell as intriguing as I remembered it."

An instant later, he had put them onto the corner of the desk and I could see the stains, white, fuzzy edges that covered the whole front-side and a darker, wet one right in the middle. I lowered my gaze.

"Look at your dirty panties," he ordered and tilted my head back up with a finger, "see what a naughty girl you really are. I think you need some discipline."

A shudder traveled through me, and I felt moisture trickle down my thigh. God, this was the most embarrassing time of my life and I was creaming like a cat in heat!

"Anthony," I started, but he interrupted me again.

"Mr. Bellfort. I want you to address me formally, Jennifer."

Power games, again. But I was on the wrong side of the see-saw and still enjoying it. "Mr. Bellfort, I…"

"Why don’t you step around the desk, pull up your skirt all the way and lay your upper body across it?"

"Why? God, you want to…"

"We still have some negotiations to do, remember. Wouldn’t that be the perfect bargaining position?"

My heart raced, but I couldn’t think. His eyes seemed to have a magic hold on me, spearing right through me into the dark recesses of my soul. I approach his side of the desk on trembling legs, and when I pulled up the skirt, even though he had seen all of me already, it felt like last night all over again. Cool air touched my privates and I gasped. Bending forward felt so - submissive, but something settled in my heart the moment my upper body relaxed against the polished wood, fell into place like the final part of a puzzle.

Then I heard a zipper and fabric rustling. Would he? Something warm and soft pressed against the entrance to my pussy, parted my aroused, swollen lips, and I couldn’t hold in the moan. He slowly slid inside me and it felt glorious!

When he began working his whole length in and out of my dripping pussy I wanted to die from pleasure. Nobody had ever enticed that level of feeling out of me. "God, yes," I moaned.

"If I sign the contract," he groaned, an equal amount of passion audible, "I want only you, nobody else, and you’ll be working on-site the whole time."

He speared me hard, and I gasped at the feeling of fullness. "Yes, it’ll be only me!"

His strong hands grabbed my hips and he picked up a faster pace. "And I’ll have you whenever and however I want. You’ll do everything I say."

I struggled to speak. His movements became faster and faster, and every thrust rocked my body and draw all breath from my lungs in a small explosion of pleasure.

"Yes," I finally managed to cry out, "yes, you’ll have me. I’ll do anything!"

Something beeped. "Carmen, come in and close the door behind you."

I was bewildered, but just for a second, then I saw the door open and watched his beautiful secretary step inside, and the moment she saw me, her face became a mixture of hurt and dislike. God, I wanted to die!

I both felt and heard his balls slap against my moist pussy lips, and even my embarrassment couldn’t stop my arousal from rising to unprecedented levels.

"You asked for me?"

"We just agreed," he grunted, "on the contract." His fingernails dug into my hips and made me moan in depraved pleasure, "I’ll be setting you two up in an office for the time she’s here."

"But," Carmen’s eyes were wide.

"No buts. Are we clear?"

"Yes, Mr. Bellfort."

I tried to protest myself, but all I managed were throaty moans of pleasure. He let loose with almost painfully hard thrusts now, and his grunts and groans became louder and louder.

And it happened. His cock pulsated inside me, and he shot his semen inside me with a throaty victory cry, toppling me over the edge as well, and I came harder than I had ever before, gasping and moaning, kicking my legs and drooling onto the table under me.

It took us a while to get back our breaths, and my skin was still aflame a minute later. When he withdrew, I let out a disappointed sigh.

"Stay where you are," he whispered, reminding me of my lewd display and making me aware of our combined juices that were now seeping out of my satisfied snatch and down my thighs.

"Carmen?"

"Yes, Mr. Bellfort?" The red on her cheeks showed that she hadn’t escaped the wicked scene unaffected, as little consolidation as that was for me.

"Please take this book and take care of it until Jennifer starts with us, it is hers and rather private."

I spotted her hand wrap around my diary and tried to shoot upwards, but his fingers had no problem in pushing me back down. "You can’t!"

"I can. And I will." His other hand stroked over my bum and cupped my dripping pussy, squashing all protest. "You can go, Carmen."

* * * * *

"How could you give her my diary?" I accused, an hour later, the signed contract in my hands and finally covered up again, though my panties still rested on the corner of the desk. I had an inkling that they would still be there after I had left.

He smirked. "Don’t worry too much about that. Carmen has her own skeletons in her closet. I will enjoy watching you needle those out of her and even the playing field."

"Do you really think it is a good idea to have both of us in the same office?"

"It’s a fabulous idea, actually."

I pouted, but that only drew a chuckle from him. A fleeting thought came back to me. "You mentioned discipline."

"Nothing more serious than a sound spanking. Unless you beg me to go harder."

"You want to spank me?" My eyes widened, but the reason for my quickening heartbeat wasn’t exactly fear.

"I will. I might ask Carmen to act as a stand-in for me from time to time, though. I am sure that she will do a thorough job."

"No!" I protested. "Not her! Please!"

He tilted his head and watched me closely, making me squirm like a schoolgirl. "Does the thought arouse you?"

Shit. Gone was all my regained composure. "Yes, Mr. Bellfort." I bit my lip. "What is wrong with me?"

In a second, he was next to me, slightly crouched down and covering my cheek with his hand. "Nothing is wrong with you. In fact, something is very, very right with you."

He kissed me, hard and demanding, his tongue conquering my mouth and making me gasp. Yes, something felt very, very right.
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Written by ChrissieLecker
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