Accounts Payable

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Feet Legs

Unemployment sucks. It’s been sucking for damn near a year now, and my benifits are about to run out. That’s the only reason I’m even going to this interview. The job itself is worthless. I’m a CPA ferchrissake.

I arrive on time at Midland MicroAssembly inc. Personelle escorts me immediately to the CEO’s office suite.

The secretary has luscious pouty lips all done up with bright red lipstick. “Ms. Fenton will be with you shortly,” she says. A big, block-lettered name plate announces that this scretary’s name is Beth. Her light brown hair is in two braids that drop down, one over each tit. And, oh, how I’d have love to sweep those things aside to see if her nipples show through that tight, stretchy tube-top she has on. But this certainly isn’t the time or the place, so I just wait and pretend not to look at her.

“You may go in now, Mr. Abelton,” she says, getting up and opening the door for me. I walk in. Beth shuts the door behind me.

Ms. Fenton is a slight woman with short dark hair that has a gray streak through it. She wears an expensive looking navy blue skirt and blazer combo. The blazer has a jewel encrusted butterfly pinned over her left tit, which, like the right, would fill no more than a champagne glass. I can’t see her legs as she is behind her desk.

She slips on a pair of wire-rimmed and motions me to sit down. She doesn’t even offer to shake my hand.

“Abelton — Abelton — I’ve got your resume right here. You last worked for Windham Commercial Credit, right?”

I nod.

“And that ended eleven months ago. It seems you got yourself terminated for being a worthless sack o’ shit.”

“I beg your pardon,” I reply.

“Oh, I always call former employers, especially when they’re close business associates of mine. Let’s see — you spent more time running the office football pool than you did at your work, and then there’s the little matter of your sexually harassing poor Ms. Brisbane.”

“Well, I guess I won’t waste any more of your time,” I say, getting up to leave.

“Sit down, young man,” she commands. “First, show some respect. You will address me Ms. Fenton, or Ma’am, or both, and you won’t interrupt me. Second, the only person allowed to draw conclusions in this office is me. You’ll do just fine, Abelton. You’re a little overqualified, but I can use you. You’ll start immediately. Beth will get you your W-2 and show you to your desk. The rules are simple around here. You do what I say. If Beth tells you to do something, it’s the same as me telling you. Got that? And if you so much as lay a finger on her, you’ll hear from my attorney before she even has time to yelp. We clear?”

“Yes Ma’am.”

Her steely eyes squinting through those glasses are burning holes through me. And the rest of her face looks like an icecube. If my life weren’t about crumble like a moldy pound cake, I’d tell that bitch to shove this job up her tight little ass. But I need the work. The wife might even speak to me again if I come home tonight and tell her I’m employed.

“You may go.” she says. I rise and back out of her office.

Here’s Kıbrıs Escort what the job is: accounts payable. That means paying the bills. Any idiot could do it. I just write the checks and keep a ledger on my computer. The bitch seems to know how much money I’ll need each week, and it magically appears in the checking account.

Beth has given me a desk across the hall from hers. When I lean over I can see those red lips and round tits. All day she’s doing her nails or putting on mascara or smearing more red lipstick over those lips. It’s a good thing this job doesn’t take much of my time. I spend most of it daydreaming about having a big red ring around the base of my dick.

The nineth Friday into this job and things are going well. I’ve got my mortgage paid up and I’m working on paying off the credit card.

The wife actually got naked for me last night — first time in six months. And here at work, the bitch says I’m doing a great job. Says if I keep it up she might even move me up to payrole. Whoop-dee-doo.

But Beth is driving me nuts. She wore this short little skirt today with irridescent blue stockings underneath, and a V-necked lacy silk top that shows lots of cleavage. I just know there’s nipples sticking through under those braids. She comes over to my desk this morning with a handful of bills and stands there drinking coffee out of a white mug. It has a big red stain on the rim.

And those thighs. I could eat them right now, stockings and all. She steps to my side and stares at my computer screen.

“I wanna get one o’ these things for my home checkbook,” she says.

“Can you show me how it works?” She pulls up a chair and sits down.

And I don’t think her mama ever taught her how to sit like a lady either. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see her garter under her skirt, and sometimes a flash of panties. I spend the next hour showing her the finer points of electronic checkwriting. She keeps brushing against me when she reaches over to point to something on the screen. I have to cross my legs to hide what she’s doing to me.

When we get done, she pulls her compact out of her purse and is checking her face over for the fourteenth time today. I figure, what the hell — she came to me.

“Would you like to get together for a drink after work,” I ask.

“Yeah, that’s right up there on my list,” she answers without even looking up. “About two slots below sitting on a cheese grater in the bath tub.”

Ah — Beth in the tub. At least she leaves me with an exquisite picture. She goes back to her desk. I’ll work on her some more another time.

That was when it happened. I open the bills Beth just gave me and the account is $22,000 short of what I need to pay them.

“Beth,” I call out. “Tell Ms. Fenton I need to see her today.”

“Yeah, when I get to it,” she answers.

Three o’clock rolls around and the Fenton’s door is still closed. Four o’clock, no change. I’ve got to get these bills taken care of the same week they come in, or the bitch will castrate me. She made that clear Kıbrıs Escort Bayan the first day. Five o’clock — Beth goes home. I’d like to do the same, but that door is still closed. Five-thirty. My phone rings. It’s Fenton. She’s ready for me. I go in with the bills and a printout of the account. She’s got her back to me.

“Ms. Fenton, I need more money to pay these bills, Ma’am,” I say.

“So you screwed up, did you? How much has the CPA lost track of?”

“It’s $22,000, Ma’am. And I didn’t lose track of it. I’ve checked the figures three times. You haven’t deposited enough money this week. Look.” I drop the printout on her desk. She turns around. She’s got on the same outfit she wore that first day. She doesn’t even glance at the printout.

“Tell me something, Abelton,” she says. “If you were to pay $22,000 for a hooker, what would you expect her to do?”

“Well, I don’t know, Ma’am. A lot, I expect. But I don’t see what that has to do with this.” I’m beginning to sweat.

“You’re asking me for $22,000 aren’t you. What should I get in return?”

“Ma’am, don’t you think this is getting a little close to sexual harassment?”

She laughs at me. “You think you have even a chance of making that stick after what you did to Ms. Brisbane? Hah! Besides, if I fired you today, it’d be years before you could get a judgement against me, even if the court would listen to the likes of you. You remember what it’s like to be unemployable? I think you’d better get over here and beg me for the money.” I step behind her desk. She turns in her chair and faces me, then stands up and glares into my eyes. Her lips are thin and tight. God, I wish I were somewhere else.

“Okay,” I say. I cast my eyes down. I see she’s got on spike heels. I wring my hands for show. “I need this job. Please, please, please deposit the money,” I beg. A bead of sweat runs down my brow.

“You’ll address me as Ma’am,” she replies. “And you’ll do it on your knees. And don’t even think about looking up my skirt unless you want my heel in your nuts.”

“Ma’am, if I’ve done something to make you mad, I assure you, I’m very sorry. Now can we just get past this?”

“Do it,” she commands.

I drop to my knees. “Ms. Fenton, Ma’am. I beg you. Please give me the money so I can pay your bills.”

“I’m considering it, worm. How about you say, ‘Ms. Fenton, I’m not worthy to lick your feet, but I’ll do it for you if you find it in your heart to fix my fuck-up.” I repeat her words to her.

“So start licking, you miserable turd,” she says.

I bend down and lick her ankle. She has no hose on. I’m licking bare skin.

“Take the shoe off and do it right,” she says. Her shoe pulls off easily in my hand. I bend down again and start licking between her toes. They’re sweaty and taste moldy. I’m beginning to get a hard-on from this.

“The other one too,” she says.

I obey. My cock is hard now. My trousers are ballooning out. And my shirt is soaked with sweat.

“Oh, this will never do,” she says. “I don’t think you’re the least bit sorry Escort Kıbrıs for the trouble you’ve caused me. I didn’t feel one teardrop fall onto my feet. And look at your pants. This is how you show respect for me? By letting you piddly penis out of control? I don’t think you grasp the enormity of this. $22,000 is the better part of a year’s salary for you. I think I’ll just have to set your head straight.”

“Please, Ma’am. I’m sorry. I really am. Couldn’t we talk about this on Monday?”

“Shut up!” She pulls a scarf out of her purse and blindfolds me with it. “I’d never give you the pleasure of viewing my private parts,”

she says, “but you’re gonna lick them, aren’t you. You’re gonna lick them because your so sorry. So sorry that you caused so much grief to the only person who keeps you out of the homeless shelter.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” My cock is aching. “I’m really sorry.”

I hear her skirt rustling up. I reach up and put my hands on her thighs.

Whap! She slaps me across the face.

“Don’t touch, you slug. Take off your belt.”

I obey. I hear the buckle jingle as she picks it up. I expect she’s about to beat me with it. I find myself looking forward to it.

“Put your hands behind your back.” Her voice is behind me. I do it. She ties my hands with the belt. I hear her step in front of me again. I can smell her now. I feel her fur against my nostrils. She grabs me by the ears and pulls me in.

“Lick, you bastard!” she says.

I dip my tongue deep into her crack. Yecch! Something tastes awful. I gag.

“What? You don’t like Gynalotramin? Eat it, you prick! Eat!”

I gobble on her clit and suck the paste out of her hole. I’m panting through my nose. I can’t believe it, but I really want to please this bitch. But she’s having none of it.

“I’m trying to decide whether a little dipshit like you is worth orgasming for,” she says calmly. “I’m having so much fun just watching you slurp on my peehole. Mmmm. I almost felt that one.”

She presses me in harder. My cock is ready to explode. “You’re not going to have one of your messy little dingaling orgasms, are you? Ooooo! I’m warning you — ahh — you better not come unless I do. I’ll twist that — mmmmh — thing out by the roots.” I gobble harder.

I hear her heave a deep breath. I’m having to hold back my come. I can’t get enough air. Her pussy juice is coming in through my nose. Her breaths are turning into shrill cries. She digs her nails into my earlobes. “Oooooh, you fucking bastard!” she screams. She presses her bare foot into my crotch. The pain feels so good. My cock spews come into my boxer shorts. It dribbles down my shaft and entangles itself in my pubic hair. She pushes me away. I fall over backward. My head thumps against the floor. My cock is still pulsing. She pulls the blindfold off and unties me. Her skirt is a bit rumpled, but otherwise reveals nothing. Her face is flushed but still icy cold. There’s a big wet spot on my trousers.

“You have your $22,000,” she says. “Next Friday, you’ll need more. Bring a change of clothes, too. I feel like getting messy with you. In fact, better bring all your clothes. I don’t think your wife’s gonna let you back in the house after she’s seen the video we just made. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m late for dinner with my niece. Perhaps you know her. Her name is Ruth. Ruth Brisbane.”

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Bir cevap yazın