The New Job Ch. 01

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Creampie

Dear reader, this is a slow, long burn, but hopefully it will lend enough interest to keep you reading. I intend for this to be Chapter 1 of 5 or so…

* * * * * A New Job * * * * *

Losing your management job at 35 is bad, but it’s even worse when you lose it because your father-in-law owns the company, so when your wife files for divorce you get the double whammy. I guess technically I was 34 at the time; my ex filed for divorce 3 days before I turned 35.

Now, I will be clear, I was not heartbroken over the divorce, but I had a good job. I was VP over operations and honestly, was doing great at it, and had the option to become director in a year or two. Which is all the more reason why applying for a position as an operations analyst was discouraging.

When I arrived for the interview, I met Erica the receptionist. Erica was ridiculously cute, and she led me back to the conference room, I noticed that she wore a pencil skirt that fit wondrously on her curvy hips. I walked a little slower just to enjoy the view, and I got the idea that she knew I was watching. She turned around and said “We should put up in this hallway so that there’s something else to look at.” I turned beet red and kept my eyes up from that point forward.

Erica stayed and made small talk for the next few minutes while my potential boss got out of a meeting. I noticed that underneath her bulky sweater, she was probably a 36 DD or larger. Her smile and dimples were perfect for her round face, and she had this way of giggling at my dumbest jokes that make her even more endearing. But alas, she had a nice ring on her ring finger, and after a few almost flirty comments, her cell phone rang and she said “gosh, it’s my husband” and left the room. Oh well.

My interview with my new supervisor was uneventful. Dave looked to be approaching retirement, but was smart and we got along just fine, but he was an operations director – boring and dry as sand. When we ended the interview, he remarked “you sound like you’re almost overqualified” which I took it as a high compliment.

When Kiersten from HR walked into the room, she was obviously in charge. I said “you must be Kiersten!” and she frowned at me “It’s Kristin, with 2 “eyes”.” The interview was a tragedy, she spent the entire time trying to prove me wrong and get me to contradict myself. I got the idea that getting her name wrong had spoiled my chances for the position.

The interview wasn’t a complete loss – Kristin looked very in shape with the perfect slight hour-glass figure and probably a 34B sized chest. She even had the slightest dimples, which showed up the one time that I got her to smile – when I mentioned how dry my interview with Dave had been.

As I left, Erica eagerly mentioned that she hoped to see me again, and I said “I look forward to seeing your smile, too!” It was only after that statement did I realize that Kristin heard me. Well, fuck, no chance at this job – the HR person didn’t like me, and then heard me flirting with the receptionist.

The next Wednesday, I got a call from Dave, “We’d like to make an offer, could you come in and meet with us?” They even emailed the offer letter in advance; the job payed a little less than my old job, but I could definitely see a situation where I could prove my worth and take over for Dave when he retired.

When I arrived for my meeting, Erica was her bright and chipper self; her smile was truly infectious. While last time, she wore a bulky sweater, today she was wearing a perfectly cut blazer, and pristine white blouse and slacks that emphasized her legs perfectly. The blazer also emphasized that under her large breasts was a flat stomach. Her hair was up in a messy bun, adding another inch to her short frame. And I swear, as we talked, that her shirt showed more and more of her cleavage. Her personality was a pure delight, and I was certain that her husband was the luckiest bastard in the world.

The meeting itself was tense. Kristin, Dave and the CEO sat across from me at the table as we went through the benefits and expectations. I signed everything including a non-disclosure. The CEO seemed to be under Kristin’s spell, and exuded some of the same cautions that she had tried to catch me up on. After they left, Dave introduced me to the other team member, a tiny young girl named Deb. Deb was an obvious yoga buff, and looked to be pure muscle. Even though she was maybe 5 foot 1, I wouldn’t have picked a fight with her. She seemed amicable enough, and over the course of our conversation, I learned that she was Erica’s sister in law.

We talked for over 2 hours about the job, my office, some of the software and what computer I would like ordered. Dave offered for me to start in 2 weeks, and I just said, “Tomorrow would work.” I didn’t want to dip into my savings, and I needed the distraction and purpose of a job.

* * * * * The First Day * * * * *

On my first day, I was greeted by Erica “I can show you to your office!” Chipper as always, she put a smile on my face, “your smile bahis firmaları is infectious!” – and she merely giggled. I brought along my favorite photo – a cold winter waterfall scene. She turned around halfway down the hallway (of course I was following her) and smiled, “Is that photo to brighten up the hallway?”

“I think that you’ve got the hallway brightening down pat” I said with a wink. She blushed a little, but giggled too. I think that she swung her hips a bit more as she walked the rest of the way down the hall, what a sight. She was wearing another pencil skirt, combined with a perfect blouse; I was definitely going to find ways to spend more time with her.

I had just finished hanging the photo on the lonely nail in my office when Deb walked in; “Ready for some first-day paperwork?” We setup my network account and what felt like 60 other logins, as it turned out, Deb was the “IT department”, a job she appeared to resent. Through small talk, I learned that her brother, Erica’s husband, was a manager at the local Olive Garden, and that Kristin was Deb’s cousin. I also learned that Deb wasn’t Kristin’s biggest fan either. Deb said “Kristin doesn’t have much say over Dave and the department, but if we’re going to implement a change for the company, we have to have Kristin’s approval; the CEO only listens to her opinions the most.” I frowned and so did she.

Deb was easy to get along with. When it came time for lunch, we went to a small pizza place with Dave, and Deb invited Erica. Having Erica along probably saved lunch, honestly. Her bubbly personality made even Dave smile and tell a few jokes. Deb sat by me at the small square table and proudly exclaimed that “She liked lots of meat on her pizza” to which she and Erica laughed and laughed. Erica had implied that she was married, but she hadn’t confirmed that, and she didn’t wear a ring.

Through lunch, Erica’s black skirt worked its way further and further up her thigh, and I was more and more distracted. As her skirt reached her mid-thigh, I could see the beginnings of a tattoo; it was my first day, and I was already lusting after this tiny fox. I was realizing that she knew that she had my number too. As we exited the restaurant, she tapped me on the shoulder and whispered “It’s of a mermaid in the ocean because I love the beach!” I smiled and said “I’d love to see it!”

She just giggled and walked away.

At the end of the day, my brain was fried. Too much data, not enough time to review it all. Erica and Deb left at the same time as me, and Kristin was walking out the door too. Erica poked Kristin and said “Thanks for hiring him, he’s a ton of fun” and Deb replied “It was a good day.” Kristin rolled her eyes.

I got fast food and went home to crash. I fell asleep on the couch around 8:45, but at 10 my phone woke me up. “Hey, it’s erica, is this the new guy?”

“Yep, you got me, do I want to know how you got my number? LOL”

“I file all of kristin’s paperwork … do you promise to delete the photo if I send it”

“Of course” knowing full well that I wouldn’t!

“Ok well you wanted to see my tattoo”

And she sent a photo of her thigh. But not just that. She hadn’t even attempted to crop the photo, so I could see her light blue lace boy shorts, the curve of her ass cheek and in the mirror, her matching bra. Damn. There was no way in hell I was deleting this. The only thing that was missing was her radiant smile.

Oh, right, she texted a “tattoo” photo; I should respond. “Damn, that’s a nice, uh, *tattoo* that you have there!” The tattoo had beautiful colors, green in her tail, blues in the ocean and the waves, and red hair, but most magnificent were her breasts – large and full just like I’d imagined Erica’s were.

“I’m glad that you like the photo. You promised to delete it, remember? ;)”

“I definitely wouldn’t have made that promise if I’d know the tattoo was that good”

“I saw you admiring it at lunch, and I figured that you’d like it”

“That’s an understatement, your husband is one lucky son-of-a-bitch”

“Yeah, he’s boring and doesn’t like my tattoos”

“Wait, you have more of them?”

“Yep”

“Pics or they aren’t real”

“Um, I can’t really send you a photo of the other 2”

“Now you just made me more curious”

“I know. Have a good night! ;)”

Damn, she was insufferable. I went back to that photo. Her breasts were huge and her skintone matched the blue perfectly. I pulled my cock out to enjoy the photo, and just then she texted again.

“I guess that I could send you a photo of one of the other tattoos, but I’d need a compromising photo of you, as collateral.” Damn, really? I did have a tattoo, but it was on my wrist. Was she really asking for a dirty photo? If I misread this, I’d DEFINITELY lose this job after 1 day. But I was crazy horny and damn she was fucking hot. I went upstairs, thankful for situps and pushups. I wasn’t a body builder, but I wasn’t fat and had no belly at all, just a 6 pack. I needed to figure out a way to make this kaçak iddaa a fun photo that was also at least somewhat sexy.

I put my phone on a tiny tripod, then pointed it at the floor. Then I switched into boxer-breifs and got down and did a few pushups and situps. After a few photos, I figured out how to most exaggerate my muscles, a couple of photos that were, uh, generous of my crotch, and even in one photo get a clear shot of my wrist tattoo.

“All right, I can send you a couple of photos, but you’re gotta promise to delete them too!”

“I can’t wait. And yes, I promise”

I sent her the 3 photos: “In the first one, you can see my only tattoo”

“Oh, yes, that’s definitely what caught my attention ;)”

“You said that you have another tattoo?”

“I actually have 3 more, but I think that you only get one more for now”

“Hmmm, I’d say, you’re not being fair, but I already sent you my only tattoo”

“Yeah, because that’s what those photos were about, right LOL”

She sent a photo that took me a bit to figure out. Some of the blueish lace was visible, but the orientation was wrong. The tattoo was of Cupid and his arrow pointing toward the darker portion of the photo, where the lace was. Then it occurred to me, this tattoo was on the inside of her thigh, holy fuck.

“Well, did you like that tattoo?”

“I’d much rather see it up close and in person, I think I could appreciate it more”

“Oh, you’re just trying to start trouble”

“Yeah, that was me, who was dozing off, who started the trouble, LOL”

“Well, you can go back to sleep now, Steve will be home soon”

“If I can fall asleep”

“Well, I have a magic remedy that wears me out every time! Good night ;)”

* * * * * The First Weeks * * * * *

When I walked into work the next morning, Erica was wearing a cute pink top and she was sitting in such a way that I could see that her bra was a much darker color. “Good morning, did you rest well?” she playfully asked. “I exercised a little last night so that I would sleep very well” I responded in kind. “Yeah, it’s always good to get the blood flowing.”

I texted her when I was at my desk “I like that pink top. I hope it’s ok to compliment you.”

“Oh gosh, yes, please compliment me; I live for them! Just know that I delete all of our comments immediately”

“So I should resend my exercise photos since you deleted them?”

“Yes, um, that would be very kind of you, but maybe at a later time. Do you have other photos?”

“You really liked them, huh?”

“They’re very helpful, yes”

“Not to ruin our fun, but isn’t your husband supposed to help too?”

“You’d be surprised at how uninterested he is in helping”

“I guess that I would be surprised. I’ve only helped once, and I’m eager to help again LOL. Maybe I can help by setting up a place for you to keep important photos?”

“Yes, I think that having a secret place to store photos would be very helpful! I’d have to figure out how to pay you back though”

“Oh, you were very helpful for me too, you know. Light Blue is now my favorite color ;)”

I had to step into a meeting then, but this kind of banter and photo exchange went on for the first 2 months. I would send her videos of my exercise routine, and she would send me photos of all of her bikinis or her short shorts under the pretext of her love of going to the beach. We never exchanged nudes, more provocative photos. She enjoyed the video of me washing my hair in the shower the most, even though it showed far less than some of the other photos.

* * * * * The Christmas Party * * * * *

Late November rolled around and we all received invitations to the company Christmas party; well not really a party, more of a “social dinner”. The boring CEO and uptight Kristin from HR were in charge, so it was formal. Luckily, Erica was in charge of seating, so it was Erica, Steve her husband, Deb and her husband, Dave and his wife, myself and Kristin at our table. Erica was on my left and Kristin was on my right – talk about yin and yang. I was pretty excited – this was honestly my first social event since before my birthday.

While I was getting ready, I got a text from Erica, “I’m wearing my favorite dress just for you ;)” but no picture.

When I arrived, everyone stood milling about having a drink or two. I watched Deb walk in, damn, she looked great. Her husband, on the other hand, well, he wore a pull over hoodie and jeans. But Deb had on her best little black dress to accentuate every yoga curve. No sooner had I started drooling over Deb, when a short, chubby, balding guy walked in. Kristin was near me, and leaned over “Yeah, you can drool over Erica’s husband all you like, ha!” She’d caught me, dammit, and when she caught me, I was drooling over the wrong girl.

I realized that Deb, Erica and their husbands had likely come together, with Deb and Steve (Erica’s husband) being siblings. How they ended up so differently, I have no clue; but at least they were the same height. Suddenly, nothing kaçak bahis else mattered. In walked Erica, and she looked dazzling. Her empire waist dress perfect accentuated her breasts pushing them up just enough to tease your eyes, and the remainder of the dress was perfectly fitted. The top maroon matched the black shimmery lace perfectly, and her black hose and heels completed her jaw dropping look. We caught eyes and she smiled at me, I was probably drooling, because she said “You owe me $50 for wearing this!”

“How about I buy you a drink instead?”

“The drinks are free horny man!”

We both laughed and got her a glass of wine. We had a blast chatting with everyone, we were almost like a couple. Steve was over with “the boys” talking about football; it was almost like he didn’t have a wife at all.

Erica leaned over after her first glass of wine and said “What’s your favorite color?” and I said “Tonight? I think red.”

She giggled and said “It should be dark purple!” and giggled and little bit of a drunk giggle.

I retorted, “What’s your favorite color?”

“Ooo, black?” she giggled back.

I said, “Wouldn’t’ you like to know? I can’t believe that you’re this naughty, to have this discussion with your husband right over there!”

“Yeah, I’m definitely feeling naughty tonight!”

“If you’re actually feeling that naughty, you should go take a photo and send it to me.”

Oh man, asking a horny, flirty woman to be naughty is always a recipe for fun! She disappeared and didn’t show up until the meal was being served. She sat down and giggled at me; she smelled deeply of red wine. During the meal, as she was talking to Deb and the husbands, my phone buzzed. It was a photo of her, or rather of her purple lace ass in the mirror. Her skirt was pulled up high, and damn did her ass look good enough to eat.

Then right before deserts? A photo of her pulling her purple lace panties to the side to show off her delightfully shaved crotch. I couldn’t see anything else, but her pussy lips looked like they might pop out of the purple. Then as most of the folks left the table for more drinks, a series of photos of the top of her dress pulled down revealing a transparent purple lace bra. Then a second one with both of her breasts pulled out, but still in the lace. The lace did little to hide her breasts, and she had the perfect areolas and nipples. The last photo was of her breast fully pulled out of her bra and with her pinching her nipple.

This was torture, I was hard as a rock and had photos that I could only briefly glance at. I decided that I had to pay her back, so I slipped out to the restroom. I texted her, “You’ve been very naughty” and she quickly replied “So what are you going to do about it?”

“I think you deserve a spanking! A good hard smack on your ass. Would you like that?”

“Maybe, maybe not, but I’m up for trying most anything once, LOL”

Damn she must be drunk, alright, time for a new plan. I wandered into the bathroom and took several photos. I stroked my cock and made sure that there were no doubts that I was hard. I even risked it and took off my shirt for a boxers, muscles, and bulge of my hard cock photo. As I was walking away from the restroom, I saw her walking toward me down the same hallway. I put my arm around her and pulled her into the coat closet. I pulled her close to my chest and whispered harshly “You’ve been very naughty, haven’t you.”

I roughly grabbed her ass but kept her squeezed against me. She moaned into my chest and I smacked her ass. She moaned louder. “How many photos did you send to me?” She whispered “three”.

“Should a married woman have sent any of those naughty photos?” as I smacked her ass again.

She moaned “No sir”.

“Did you like squeezing your nipple for me?” as I smacked her ass a third time.

“Fuck, it felt so good.”

I kissed her forehead and said “I took some photos that you will enjoy, but you have to wait for them.”

I went back into the restroom and took one more photo, this one of my cock in my hand while I was flexing. It was fair if she showed me so much of herself, right?

When I got back into the main dining area, they were handing out the end of the year appreciation awards, so we were all facing the stage area. Erica had turned in her chair, so that her back was turned toward my chair. I thought about seeing how much of a distraction I could be to her, but just as I was about to act, Kristin who was sitting right behind me, leaned forward and whispered, “It’s not nice to stare at a married woman’s ass for so long.”

Shit, here I was again, caught by the HR manager. I gave a nervous laugh and said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” And in what I could only assume was a alcohol induced response, Kristin whispered, “As long as you let me stare at yours too; I guess you can look, but just don’t touch.” I’m sorry, was Kristin who had ignored me and never said anything remotely nice to me flirting with me?

I leaned back again, “Wouldn’t it be more fun if the rule was ‘you can’t look, but you can touch’?” and flashed a devious smile – when in Rome, right? She replied quickly, “it is a nice view” and I honestly didn’t know if she was talking about my ass or Erica’s.

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