 Office Politics Every time I recall going against my father’s advice, I also remember it coming back to haunt me. Nevertheless, in April of 2004, just months after my 31st birthday, I was once again about to go against one of dad’s countless catch phrases… “Son, never get your money and your pussy from the same place!!!” he used to tell me, and God knows I really tried to adhere to this rule. Unfortunately, this was a far easier thing to say than to do. This was especially the case on the day that I met Stacy Underhill. I’m an accountant by trade, and at the time I was working as a CPA for Wallace, Underhill and Crabtree; the largest black owned accounting firm in Kansas. The Senior Partner and my direct boss, Mr. Underhill, had always spoken highly of his daughter Stacy, who had graduated from Stanford and was working for Price Waterhouse in Southern California. A desire to spend more time with family and a recent break up with her fiancé, as well as the obvious opportunity to make partner led Stacy back to Kansas where she accepted a position with daddy’s company.
Although I had seen Stacy’s pictures in Mr. Underhill’s office before, I must admit, she was far more attractive in person. Her hair was like jet-black silk, and her butterscotch coated complexion carried the texture of flawless creamy caramel. She walked around with an air of confidence so dashing you’d think that she already owned the place. Her thick, full lips accentuated her perfectly straight teeth and adorable smile, and even though she wasn’t just drop- dead gorgeous, she had a strong sense of sex appeal that immediately directed my attention towards her curvaceous hips and slender waistline. “Banks, this is my daughter Stacy,” Mr. Underhill stated boastfully. As I extended my hand towards Stacy, I couldn’t help but to think of my buddy Reggie, who swears that a woman knows within the first 15 minutes of meeting a man, whether or not she is going to avoid him altogether, become his friend, fall in love with him… or just fuck him! I think it took Stacy about 15 seconds to figure this out with me. As our extended hands met and our eyes connected, a strange vibe took place between us that let me know almost immediately that she wanted to become more than just office buddies. I became so mesmerized by her sex appeal that I temporarily forgot that Mr. Underhill was standing there. My attention instantly shifted to her burgeoning cleavage; as my imagination drifted someplace outside of the office. I’m not sure how many times Mr. Underhill had called my name, but I assume more than once or twice. By the time I snapped out of whatever zone I was in, his voice had become firm and aggressive as he demandingly shouted, “Banks… Are you okay? I asked you a question.” “I’m terribly sorry – sir,” I replied to Mr. Underhill; sounding ridiculous as I blamed my absence of mind on my allergy medication. He then repeated his question. “Banks, I need you to put some of your other work on hold for a few days, so that you can spend time working with Stacy, introducing her to some of our larger clients, and just helping her get acclimated to how we do business here at Wallace, Underhill and Crabtree. Is that okay with you?” Mr. Underhill was made man in every sense of the word, and therefore had no tolerance for excuses. Standing at only 5’6”, his presence loomed more dominant and intimidating than any person I’d ever encountered. Tough life experiences and high expectations of others combined to produce an individual that most referred to simply as “one tough son of a bitch.” Mr. Underhill was an active black militant during the 60’s Civil Rights movement, and witnessed many violent hate crimes as a child growing up in the racist South during the 50’s. Plus, he was a Vietnam veteran who worked full-time during college in order to finance his own education. These are just a few of the many examples that have molded Mr. Underhill’s no-nonsense, zero tolerance for bullshit mentality. Therefore, I had no idea why he’d even ask for my approval of whether or not his request was okay with me. Whether it was okay or not, the only two acceptable answers to this or any other request from Mr. Underhill would be either yes or yes sir. Besides, I embraced the opportunity, as it would give me a chance to become better acquainted with Stacy, which is exactly what happened over the next few weeks. Working closely with Stacy was quite the experience. Although I had originally viewed her as a spoiled little brat, riding Corporate America’s fast track on the hem of daddy’s coattail, the experience of us working together revealed to me that she was actually a very gifted accountant, who possessed a vast world of knowledge and experience. In other words, the chic really knew her shit! In fact, our level of professional respect for one another had grown so quickly, that my joy of working with her nearly began to outweigh my sexual desires for her. Then, one evening the two of us worked late on a very important project for Mr. Underhill. It was well past eight o’clock, so we decided to order pizza and work past midnight to ensure the project was completed by the deadline. I don’t remember the exact time, but somewhere around midnight; as I approached the copy machine, Stacy gave me a look that was unlike any look she had given me before. I assumed this was just my imagination and I even tried to ignore it, but just as I thought I was in the clear, she walked over to the copy machine, bent down in front of me while grabbing my hands, and pulled my arms around her waist. Startled by her aggressive maneuver, I grew a bit nervous and uncertain of what to do next. Humored by my blatant uneasiness, she playfully whispered, “Relax baby, I don’t bite.” Her playful attitude helped settle my nerves as my attention immediately drifted towards her delicious looking, bowed legs. Her calves were muscular and athletically fit, and on her ankle a small tattoo posted the letters “WWJD”; a popular acronym posing the question, “What Would Jesus Do?” Oddly enough, of the several things I had on my mind to do to Stacy, I couldn’t imagine any of my intentions being even remotely close to anything Jesus would ever consider. By now, I’d become even more relaxed as my hands drifted from her waist to exploring various parts of her body, paying particular attention to her soft breasts and firm round ass. I leaned forward, placing my mouth gently on the back of her neck, allowing my tongue to softly massage her lower neck and shoulders while my left hand drifted slowly beneath her skirt. Carefully maneuvering, I gently slid her panties past her round, full hips down to her thighs. Then dropping to my knees, I positioned my mouth firmly around the soft satin material as I continued sliding her panties towards the floor with my mouth, until they surrounded her ankles in a manner similar to that of seductive cloth shackles in a porno film. Stacy lifted one foot at a time in order to assist me, as I continued using my mouth to finally slide her panties past her 2-inch heels and onto the floor. Still positioned behind her, I gingerly began nibbling on her leg; starting at her ankle and moving slowly to her inner thigh just above the knees. The scent of her Issey Miyake perfume coupled with the smell of her natural womanhood drove me crazy, increasing my longing to taste her body in other places as well. Then I intentionally changed positions. Rolling onto my back, I grabbed Stacy’s ankles for leverage, and then slid my head directly between her legs. Finally, I grabbed her by the waist, and slowly began pulling her towards the direction of my tongue. In a cat like fashion, her long and perfectly manicured fingernails clawed seductively along the contour of the copy machine, until she had knocked over a small bowl of mint candies that sat on a small table between the copier and drinking water dispenser. Finally, she placed both hands around my head, assuming a position that allowed for my tongue to easily explore the areas below her waist and between her thighs. Stacy possessed a soft sweet taste, similar to that of cotton candy. Her plush inner-walls and pulsating clitoris had my adrenaline raging as I continued using my tongue to seek out her weak spot. Suddenly, a sweet sounding scream of passion escaped her lips, combining elements of crying, moaning and yelling to form the unique and indefinable word “Urrrrrrggghhhhh!!!” As this reprise continued several times, her voice and body began to quiver, indicating that her weak spot had been located. Knowing this, I began rapidly moving my tongue in circular motion repeatedly along Stacy’s erogenous area until she ultimately could no longer tolerate my erotic presentation. She reached for my dark blue Hugo Boss sports coat and carefully placed it under my head, then thrust her pelvic area directly parallel to mine. She reached for one of the peppermints that had fallen to the floor and slowly un-wrapped it. Looking deeply into my eyes, she placed the peppermint in her mouth and started gently touching her tongue along my bottom lip, licking and sucking around my mouth while I began eagerly kicking off my shoes and sliding out of my dark blue trousers and boxer shorts. Her mouth remained active as she moved from my lips, down to my neck and chest area, simultaneously unbuttoning my dress shirt and tasting my body in one fluid motion. An erotic combination of seductive licking, suggestive sucking and tempting bites continued as she worked her way past my waist, finally placing her lips along the side of my shaft. Within seconds, her mouth had completely engulfed my manhood. Her warm, wet tongue moved like ocean waves along my tip as her lips managed to conduct a completely separate rhythm, gently sucking around the perimeter. Stacy moaned subtly, as the peppermint dissolved in her mouth, creating a cooling sensation that rippled throughout my body. By now, I had become increasingly excited as I awaited the opportunity to penetrate Stacy’s nearly naked body. Snatching her by her shoulder length hair, I pulled her face towards mine until our eyes connected. Then, as I looked deeply into her big brown eyes and gently stroked the side of her face, I licked my lips and softly uttered, “Damn!!! You are so fine!!!” Aroused by my compliment, she was now going wild - eagerly anticipating and desiring to feel my hardness penetrating inside of her. This sentiment was confirmed by frantic licking on my neck and shoulders; aggressive nibbling on my earlobes; and a combination of heavy breathing and high pitched moans. I spoke again, this time much more confident, commanding that she remove her blouse and brassiere. She quickly complied, then straddled herself over me, allowing me easy access to penetrate the walls of her private zone. Laying flat on my back, I began to exercise a series of pelvic movements, varying between inward and outward thrusts, and slow rhythmic gyrations. With her torso upright and her hands planted firmly against my chest, she began clawing her long fingernails into my flesh as sweat dripped from her eyebrows and a single teardrop fell from her left eye. I wiped the tear away with my index finger and gave her a very serious look as I kissed the tear away from my own finger. The teardrops continued to fall, so I reached around her neck, pulling her forward until she was lying flat on top of me. By now, a river of tears was falling from both eyes. One by one, I began kissing the tears off of her face while assuring her that everything would be alright. Eased by my comforting, her slow and calculated grinding motions from just moments ago were replaced by a vicious tirade of fast paced, rapid fire humping exhibitions as if she were about to reach her sexual climax. Once again, looking deeply into my eyes, Stacy gritted her teeth and repeatedly replied “Fuck me Cameron!!! Cameron, PLEASE FUCK ME!!!” Suddenly, the energy level of my body matched the aggressiveness of Stacy’s motions, as our naked bodies remained intertwined - our behaviors emulating the lust of wild jungle animals. Seconds later, the syncopation of her breathing had shifted. Her deep, full, and passionate breaths of air had become choppy lip quivering gasps. She appeared to hyperventilate. Stacy’s heartbeat had shifted pace as well, causing her entire body to vibrate in a manner similar to that of a panic attack. Knowing that she was rapidly approaching the point of climax, I firmly pressed the palms of my hands flat against the back of her shoulders, pulling her body tightly towards mine. At that moment, her voice released a passionate scream of satisfaction. I could feel the warm wetness releasing rapidly from both our bodies, indicating that we’d arrived together. The vision of our two sweat drenched bodies, lying on the floor, smiling and laughing together still seems as vivid as yesterday’s sunlight. I can recall the moment with such clarity, that I even remember the insignificant details. Three dark colored sports jackets hung from the coat rack adjacent to Mr. Underhill’s office door, an empty Doritos bag crumpled up on the floor lay beneath a plush leather office chair, and the old wicker ceiling fan above Stacy and I rotated in slow motion, casting a slight chill upon our unashamed nakedness. They say in life that the same things that make you laugh eventually make you cry. At that very moment, the reality of such words escaped me, as Stacy and I lay naked on the carpet together. However, I would find these words to be very real in due time. So real, in fact that not only would I come to realize how tears and laughter co-exist; but also how that very moment would come back to haunt me immensely. Continues... |
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