The Assistant

THE ASSISTANT

By Ramona Gray

Copyright 2016 Ramona Gray

This book is the copyrighted property of the author, and may
not be reproduced, scanned or distributed for commercial or non-commercial
purposes.  Quotes used in reviews are the exception.  No alteration of content
is allowed.

Your support and respect for the property of this author is
appreciated.

This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to
persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. 
The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used
fictitiously.

Adult Reading Material

Cover design by Melody Simmons

“Ms. Jones!  My office, immediately.” 

His voice, harsh and demanding, spilled out
of his office and I sighed before standing up from my desk.  Smoothing my
skirt, I entered his office and smiled at my boss.

“Is there a problem, Mr. Wright?”

“Shut the door,” he barked.

I shut the door and sat down in one of the
leather chairs across from his desk.  I crossed my legs delicately and his eyes
drifted to my short hemline before he glared at me.

“As a matter of fact, there is a problem. 
A rather large one.”

I pasted my best ‘what can I do to help’
look on my face and folded my hands in my lap.

He raked his hand through his hair before
his gaze dropped to my chest.  “Your outfit, Ms. Jones.”

My cheeks flamed immediately and I pulled
self-consciously at my too-tight blouse.  “Wh-what do you mean?”

“You know exactly what I mean, Ms. Jones.” 
He leaned forward and folded his own hands on the top of his desk.  “It isn’t
work appropriate.  What do you have to say for yourself?”

“Laundry day,” I whispered.

He frowned.  “What?”

“It was laundry day yesterday and I didn’t
have any quarters for the washing machine.”  I cleared my throat nervously.  “I
didn’t have anything else to wear.”

I was nearly sweating with embarrassment. 
I had hemmed and hawed over my outfit this morning for half an hour but, left
without much choice, had decided to just go for it.  I knew what I looked
like.  The shirt was much too tight.  It hugged my large breasts and clung to
my curves and the skirt, well let’s just say that bending over was not an
option.

“How long have you worked for me, Ms.
Jones?”

“Three years.”

“I would think that after three years you’d
have a better understanding of the office dress policy.  Wouldn’t you?”

My temper flared and I scowled at him. 
“I’m not breaking any rules.  My skirt is well within the regulation length.”

He scowled back.  “Is it?  Then explain why
I got an eyeful of your garters when I walked by your desk.  And I’ll bet you a
thousand dollars that the first deep breath you take, your buttons on that shirt
pop open.  Showing your tits is a definite infraction, Ms. Jones.”

I gaped at him.  “Did you just talk about
my tits?”

He sat back in his chair and I watched
wide-eyed as his hands moved to the buckle of his belt.  “As I was saying,
you’ve created a large problem and it’s up to you to solve it.” 

As he was speaking, his hands were
unbuckling, unbuttoning and unzipping. 

A small gasp escaped my throat when he
tugged his cock through the opening in his pants.  It was long and thick and
hard as a rock, and my mouth dried up as I watched him stroke it firmly.

“Come here and solve the problem, Ms. Jones,”
he commanded.

Like a woman in a dream, I rose to my feet
and crossed around his desk.  I couldn’t take my eyes off of his cock and as
moisture dampened my panties, I unconsciously rubbed my thighs together in an
effort to quell the throbbing that was starting between my legs.

“On your knees, Ms. Jones.”  He rolled back
his chair and I knelt obediently between his legs.

My mouth was in front of his cock now and I
watched his hand slide up and down before he wound his other hand in my hair
and pushed me toward the head of his cock.

“Open,” he said firmly.

I opened my mouth and moaned in sheer
delight when he guided his cock past my lips.  I closed my mouth around his
throbbing length, my stomach tightening with pleasure when I heard his harsh
moan.

“Good girl,” he whispered.  He petted and
stroked my hair as I sucked enthusiastically.  His hips were rising in his
chair and he was thrusting more firmly into my mouth.  I made a soft humming
noise and he groaned again before pulling on my hair.

“All of it.  I want you to take all of it.” 
He pushed on the back of my head and I took a deep breath and –

“Lina!  Earth to Lina!”

I jerked and nearly fell off the stool I
was sitting on.  My hand twitched and the salad tumbled off my fork and landed
with a wet splat on my shirt.  I cursed loudly and mopped at the salad dressing
with my napkin.

“What the hell were you thinking about,
Lina?”  My co-worker, Amanda, bit into her sandwich and stared curiously at me.

I blushed and continued to dab at the stain. 
“Nothing.  Why?”

“You had a weird look on your face.”

I shrugged.  “I’m just tired.  I didn’t
sleep well last night.  Rex still isn’t doing well and I was up half the night
with him.”

Amanda gave me a look of sympathy.  “I’m
sorry.  I know how much he means to you.”

“Thanks.”  I smiled at her and then glanced
at the clock.  “Shit.  I’ve got to get back to my desk.  Mr. Wright left a ton
of documents for me before he went to his meeting.  If I don’t have them
finished by the time he gets back, he’ll have my head.”

Amanda rolled her eyes.  “I have no idea
how or why you put up with him.  He’s an asshole.”

I shrugged.  “I need the money.  It’s not
like there are a ton of jobs out there right now.”

“I’d rather work at McDonalds then be his
assistant,” Amanda replied.  “Do you know that before you, he went through
seven assistants in just as many months?  It was a bloodbath.  I mean, we knew
it would be difficult when Helen retired but seriously, we had no idea.  The
one girl had a nervous breakdown at her desk and Fran had to drive her home.”

I laughed.  “He’s not that bad.”

Amanda raised her eyebrow and I nodded in
defeat.  “Fine.  He’s that bad.”

“Handsome bastard, though,” Amanda said
thoughtfully.

A snippet of my daydream reared its ugly
head and I closed my eyes briefly before clearing my throat.  “I hadn’t
noticed.”

“Bullshit,” Amanda scoffed.

“Fine.  I’ve noticed.  But honestly, he’s
such a douchebag that he isn’t handsome to me anymore.”  There was no way in
hell I would ever, even under the threat of hot needles being poked under my
nails, admit to my crush on my asshole boss.

I slid off the stool and pulled nervously
at my top and skirt.  “Hey, Amanda?  What do you uh, think of my outfit today?”

Amanda eyed me critically.  “You look
good.  Different, but good.”  She hesitated.  “Your shirt might be a teensy too
tight for the office.”

“Yeah,” I sighed.  “It’s laundry day.”

Amanda laughed and popped a grape into her
mouth.  “I overheard Gary and Marvin discussing your breasts by the photocopier
machine.  Gary thinks you’re a D cup but Marvin is confident you’re a double
D.”

“Fucking perverts,” I muttered.

“They sure are,” Amanda agreed cheerfully. 
“So, which is it?  D or double D?”

I stuck my tongue out at her.  “None of
your business, Pervey McPerve.”

She laughed again.  “You should have seen the
looks on their faces when they turned around and saw Mr. Wright standing behind
them.”

I groaned.  “Please tell me he didn’t
overhear them.”

“Of course he did.  He gave them that look
- you know the one - and told them if they had enough time to discuss their
co-worker’s assets over the water cooler, then he obviously wasn’t giving them
enough clients.  Next thing you know, they’re both buried in files.”

She snorted laughter as I tugged again at
my top and left the lunch room.

* * *

I sighed wearily and rubbed my aching back
before bending over the filing cabinet in Mr. Wright’s office.  It was close to
seven and I was tired and hungry.  The building was empty and I kicked off my
shoes as I stuffed files back into the cabinet. 

Technically I didn’t have to work late, Mr.
Wright hadn’t even returned to the office this afternoon, but my day tomorrow
would be much smoother if I did.  Besides, I wanted to leave a little early
tomorrow.  Rex had yet another vet appointment and it would be much easier to get
Mr. Wright to agree if I was caught up on my work.

I glanced around his office as I grabbed
another file folder.  I hated being in here.  It smelled like him, like the
expensive cologne he always wore, and I swear to God some days I could smell it
even at my apartment.  Not surprising.  Most days I spent more time in here
than I did at my own desk.  Of course his cologne would linger on me.

I grabbed another folder and bent over the
filing cabinet again.  I was just sliding it into its proper spot when his low
voice spoke directly behind me.

“Working late, Ms. Jones?”

I yelped in surprise and straightened, my
hands rushing to pull my skirt into a more appropriate position.  He was so
close I could feel his breath on the back of my neck, and I twitched in surprise
when I felt his erection brush against my ass.

“No, don’t.”  His hands pulled mine away
from my skirt and I gasped when he let his fingers stroke my nylon-clad thigh. 
“You didn’t strike me as a garters and thong kind of girl, Ms. Jones.”

“I – a girl has to have a few surprises,
Mr. Wright,” I squeaked out.

“Indeed.  Go on, finish your filing,” he
instructed.

Holding the folder between my suddenly
sweaty fingers, I tried to move past him.  He made a noise of disapproval and
his hands curled around my waist.  “I think you can reach it from here, Ms.
Jones.”

I took a deep breath and bent over,
stretching to put the folder away as his hands moved from my waist to my hips. 
My skirt was riding up and he helped it along with a few firm tugs.  I moaned
quietly when his hard hands stroked my ass and his finger tugged at the silk
between my cheeks.

“Your skirt is much too short for the
office, Ms. Jones.  You’re not setting a very good example for the other
secretaries,” he chided sternly as his hands continued to rub and caress.

“I’m sorry,” I moaned.

“I don’t believe you.  I think you wore
this skirt on purpose.  I think you want me to punish you,” he said silkily.

“Mr. Wright, I – “

His hand came down, smacking my backside
sharply and I let out a squeal of protest. 

“Quiet, Ms. Jones.  Take your punishment
like a good girl.”  His hand was sliding into my hair and when he pulled my
head up and licked my throat, I thrust my ass against him.  He spanked me again
and I bit back my gasp of pain.

“Open your legs, Ms. Jones.”  His hand
tightened in my hair and I parted my legs eagerly.  His hand cupped me through
the silk and I moaned loudly.

“You’re not to enjoy this.  Do you
understand?”  He said sternly.

“Yes,” I whispered.

His fingers were working their way under my
panties.  “If you come, your punishment will be even more severe.  Is that what
you want?”

“No,” I moaned.  His fingers were almost
there, they were nearly touching me and knowing that he would feel how wet I
was only excited me more.  I spread my legs wider and held my breath.  If he
didn’t touch me, I would –

“Ms. Jones?”

I gave a startled shriek and straightened
before whirling around.  The object of my sexual fantasies was standing in the
doorway of his office and, blushing furiously, I yanked my skirt down.

Oh God.  I had just flashed my boss.  There
was no way in hell he hadn’t seen my super-sized ass in my too-short skirt and
while that might have been a-okay in my fantasies, it most certainly was not in
real life.  The plain white cotton underwear I was wearing wasn’t turning
anyone on any time soon.

“What are you doing in my office?”  He
frowned at me as he strode toward his desk.  He was still wearing his suit but
he had loosened his tie and unbuttoned the first few buttons of his shirt.

“Filing.”

“Obviously,” he snapped.  “I meant, why are
you still here?  It’s late.”

I shrugged.  “I wanted to get it finished
before I left.”

“Your dedication to your job is
admirable.”  There was a tone of sarcasm in his voice and I scowled at him.

“You know, most bosses would be impressed
by their assistant’s dedication.”

“Indeed.”  He sank into his chair and
pulled a glass and a bottle of scotch from the bottom drawer.  “Or perhaps they
would hope that their secretary was capable of getting her job done during
regular working hours.”

I bit back my smart-ass retort.  I hated
being called his secretary and the man knew it.  It was a dated and ridiculous
term and he used it solely to get under my skin.  Normally I would call him on
it but I still needed to leave early tomorrow.

I quickly filed the last folder and slipped
into my shoes as he poured scotch into a glass.  He opened his laptop and
stared moodily at the screen as I approached his desk and cleared my throat.