Overtime

"I... I don't normally drink," Christy said hesitantly. She had a low tolerance to alcohol, especially wine, so tended to avoid it.

"Nonsense, I insist. I hate to drink alone. And I'm sure one glass won't hurt you," George said tersely.

"Yes sir." She scurried off, feeling a little bit cowed by his almost harsh tone of voice.

On her return George opened the bottle and poured out two glasses. He handed one to her. She took it reluctantly before he clinked her glass against his.

"To good fortune," he toasted, before taking a sip. Christy took his lead and took a drink from her glass. The wine was crisp and dry but surprisingly tasty. She took another sip, enjoying the cold sensation as the wine slipped down her throat.

"Nice?" George asked, with a smile.

"Very," she replied, "better than I thought it would be."

"Good, glad you like it. It's a favorite of mine. Imported and very expensive. But it's worth paying more if it's what you want," he added as he stared into her eyes.

She felt herself going weak at the knees as the intensity of his stare began to overwhelm her. His eyes were boring deeply into hers. His words seemed to hold some kind of hidden meaning that she didn't understand. But as he continued to stare into her eyes she felt a rush of heat surge through her body.

"Right, I'm staving, let's eat," he said, snapping her out of her daze.

As they ate, George observed his companion. She was certainly a very attractive woman but she had a fresh-faced innocence about her that he found tremendously refreshing. Even though the management team always managed to find him fresh meat to fuck, they all displayed the same world weary indifference to their role. So whilst the sex was always good, the overall experience often wasn't. It was soulless coupling that often left him empty after the initial euphoria of his climax had abated.

But this one seemed different somehow, which intrigued him. Usually not one for idle chit-chat, George decided to find out more about her.

"So Christy, tell me, how long have you been doing this?"

Christy swallowed her mouthful of food before replying. "Just over two months now."

"Only two months. Well that's not long. And are you enjoying it?" He knew he was being direct, but he assumed that women who made their living as escorts must like sex. It was a typically simplistic male viewpoint. More than once George had been called a misogynist, which he felt was unfair. He didn't despise women, he loved women. It was just that he primarily only thought of them as sex objects.

"Yes, so far," she mumbled with a mouth full of food. "I just need to get through my probationary period and then I'll be happier. And relieved."

George was taken aback. It had never occurred to him that escorts would have probationary periods. He thought the only criteria would be that the women had to be gorgeous and like sex. But clearly it was treated like any other business. It made him wonder who did the performance reviews.

"So you like what you do?"

"Yes it's okay."

"I sense a but," George replied.

"Well, I think I've proved I'm up to the job so I would like to be entrusted with harder tasks. You know, to get my teeth into a much meatier role. To do what I'm qualified to do."

"I'm sure you will," he replied. He smiled inwardly as he imagined his large, meaty cock sliding into her mouth through her plump and very kissable lips.

There was a lull in the conversation as they both continued to eat for a few minutes. George took his time to look at Christy more closely. She certainly was good looking, of that there was no doubt, plus she dressed so well. The short skirt and tight top was the perfect outfit for her role as a sexy secretary. The only thing missing was a pair of glasses!

Christy knew he was appraising her. She could feel his eyes roaming over her body. She nervously picked up her glass of wine and took a couple of sips. It really was very good and she could feel the warmth spreading throughout her body as the alcohol started to relax her more.

As she put down her glass George saw a flash of gold. He looked closer. Was that a wedding band on her left hand? He'd not noticed it before. Buy why would he? He was more interested in her bodily charms. But this did intrigue him.

"So tell me more about yourself Christy. Who's waiting for you at home whilst you work tonight."

"My husband Steve and my little son, Josh," she replied.

"So, you're married?"

"Yes."

"And he doesn't mind that you're working tonight?"

"Oh no, it was his idea that I take this job. And he insisted that I work tonight too. He's an engineer and when he was made redundant he couldn't find anything else. But I was qualified for this type of work so we decided it would be easier for me to get a job than him. So he's a stay at home dad. Until he finds another engineering post of course," she added quickly.

George was even more intrigued now. So her husband was quite happy for his wife to work as an escort. But she had a qualification? Who knew! Did that mean that there was a school for sex somewhere?

"So, you're qualified you say."

Christy nodded as she took another sip of her wine.

"So you think you're good at what you do?"

"I think so. I've never had any complaints so far. "

George raised an eyebrow. 'I think I'll be the judge of that', he thought as he turned his attention back to his meal.

"I just hope Global take me on permanently," she added, as she drained her glass.

"I'm sorry, did you just say you hoped Global would take you on permanently? Why?" George asked, somewhat taken aback by what she'd just said.

"Well the work I've been doing here for two months is below what I'm qualified for. I've actually got a diploma in Business Administration. Doing general admin and filing documents for two months hasn't exactly been particularly fulfilling. I think I'm capable of so much more. I just hope Mr Rabinowitz sees that at my three month review."

Despite being shocked, George's face was a mask. My god, she worked for Global? Now that was a turn up for the book. He internally shook his head. 'Bob, Bob, Bob, what were you thinking, pimping out one of your own employees like this. Not that she isn't good looking... but still, really?'

He smiled inwardly. So she wasn't an escort, so he wasn't guaranteed sex at the end of the night. Not unless he managed to seduce her. Now that was something he hadn't done in a long, long time!

He watched as Christy stood and reached for his empty food carton, their fingers touching as she did so. They both felt the shock. His hand held hers, his thumb rubbing gently along her fingers for a moment before he broke the hold. She looked away as her face turned bright red.

He carried on looking at her as she walked out of the room, enjoying the sensual sway of her skirt as she moved. Yet again he felt his cock stiffen. Like most men, all it took to arouse him was the glimpse of a shapely thigh, the hint of a firm breast or the curve of a nice plump ass. And that was before he even looked at the face.

Christy almost ran to the kitchen area. After she quickly dumped the cartons into the bin, she turned and slumped back against the kitchen cabinets. Her hand came up to her chest as she tried to catch her breath. She could feel her heart was pounding. Where had that come from? His touch had been electric and she couldn't understand why she had reacted like this. She felt like a giddy teenager all over again. She swallowed hard as she tried to force herself to calm down.

Slowly making her way back to her desk, she kept her head lowered so as not to look in his direction. As she took her seat she saw that he was once more seated at the conference table, seemingly immersed back in his work. She began to type, but having made the same mistake three times gave up and closed the program down.

All she wanted to do now was go home. She looked at her watch. It was barely past nine. Midnight Bob had said. So three more hours to endure. What the hell was she going to do now?

Her momentary pause was suddenly broken.

"Mrs Sinclair, can you come in here please and bring your notepad."

Christy initially startled, grabbed her notepad and entered the conference room.

"Take a seat here please," George motioned to a chair to the side of him. "I take it you can take notes?"

"Yes, I know shorthand," she replied as she sat down, and as all women do, crossed her legs. Not for the first time her skirt rode up exposing more of her thigh than she wanted to. She was conscious that George was looking at her. Not wanting to make eye contact she kept her head lowered but still felt her face flush as she tried to pull her skirt down. She knew it was a waste of time and that she was only drawing more of George's attention to her legs.

Christy finally glanced up only to see George's eyes narrow as he stared back at her. As he began to speak, Christy snapped to attention. When George had stared at her she found she couldn't look away, his eyes had a smoldering intensity that she found very unnerving.

All business, George began by handing her some of the files he'd already looked at. There were notes attached to most of them. He began to rattle off what he wanted her to do with them. Even writing in shorthand Christy had a hard time keeping up with him, her nice, neat penmanship; something she prided herself on; soon just a scribbled mess.

George was in full flow and Christy was struggling to keep up. She wondered why he couldn't just use a digital voice recorder or better still use a computer like everyone else did.

As he droned on and on, Christy felt a warm feeling creep through her body. His deep voice had an almost soothing effect on her. She felt drowsy, no doubt due to the wine, so it was a while before she was aware that George had risen from his chair and was pacing around the office. She carried on making her notes until she realized he had stopped.

He was behind her. Her body tensed with the realization that he had come to a halt behind her chair.

George towered over her. He looked down over her shoulder to see the pleasing way her top stretched out over her breasts. He could see her knee where her legs were crossed and her exposed stocking clad thighs. He felt his cock stiffen as he made his play.

Her hair looked so shiny and soft. He contemplated for a moment or two before he reached out a hand and touched it, his fingers running through the golden strands. At George's touch, a small shiver ran down Christy's spine causing her back to arch, so pushing her breasts out.

"Please don't," she tried to say, before realizing that no words had been uttered. She'd frozen, her breath catching in her throat.

"You have lovely hair Christy," George whispered as he leaned over her. His hand slipped from her hair and down onto her right shoulder. Christy remained still, unsure of what to do or say.

"You seem tense, let me help by releasing some of that pressure for you," he said as his he gripped her shoulders with both hands. Before Christy could respond, his fingers began to press into her shoulders, skilfully kneading her muscles, instantly relaxing her. As she felt the stiffness easing, her head tilted back slightly and her eyes closed.

George smiled. God, women were so easy! He'd never met a woman yet that didn't respond to a good massage. He worked on her shoulders for a few seconds before his hands began to roam. He moved to her arms and began to gently press and rub as his hands dropped lower.

He leaned in, stooping lower, his hands gliding in to encircle her breasts, cupping them from below. As he suspected they were deliciously firm but pliant. He lightly ran his fingers over the shape of her large orbs revelling in the feel of her lace bra beneath her tight fitting top and relishing in the fact that her nipples had hardened immediately.

Christy felt goosebumps erupt on her arms and felt her face getting hotter. Despite the fact he'd touched her breasts, she was still unable to move. She knew this was so wrong, but she could already feel her nipples had responded to that briefest of touches. She also had the feeling that if she touched herself between her legs she would find her body betraying her there to.

'That's enough for now' George thought, as he suddenly stood and removed his hands from her breasts. He walked back to the conference room table and took his seat behind it. He glanced at Christy. She looked dazed. Her head was still lolling back.

Christy couldn't breathe. What the hell had just happened and why did she feel so strange? And why couldn't she move? And more to the point, why had she not stopped him? For god's sake, he'd just sexually assaulted her when he'd groped her breasts. So why had she not objected? Just what the hell was wrong with her? And why were her nipples so erect now?

"Right Mrs Sinclair, can you have those typed up for me as soon as possible please." George's firm tone jolted Christy back to her senses.

On shaky legs she rose from her chair and walked back to her desk. As she took her seat she could feel the sticky dampness between her thighs. Ohhh god! Horrified at what that meant, it was a few minutes before she could begin to type.

George sat back with a smug look on his face. His cock was already throbbing painfully inside his pants. This was going to be far better than he could ever have hoped for. She was definitely susceptible. He would take it slow. After all he didn't want to spook her. But he knew he was going to fuck her before the end of the night and he had a feeling that it would be memorable.

It took Christy about thirty minutes to expedite all of George's initial instructions. When she'd finished she felt she badly needed a drink to rid herself of the alcohol that had clearly affected her. How else could she explain why she had let George grope her breasts? Poking her head into the conference room, she asked George if he wanted a drink as well.

Grunting his confirmation he looked up to watch her walk away. Yet again he appreciated her slender but shapely legs, loving how the look was accentuated by her high heels. The height of those just added to the allure. And her ass; he shook his head; her ass was just superb. He loved the way her skirt flowed as her hips swayed from side to side. Although he was now working with a permanent hard-on he felt his cock stiffen even more.

It was time for phase two. He rose from his chair and slowly followed Christy to the kitchen area.

The company had provided a variety of appliances to make hot drinks, including the usual drip coffee machines as well as the ubiquitous Keurig, but when making tea Christy liked to 'brew' it the traditional British way. She had even brought in a supply of her own teabags. She had a kettle at home but here at work she had to heat the water in the microwave. Not ideal.

"Now where are those china cups," she said to herself, opening and closing the lower cupboard doors. She turned her attention to the wall cupboards. Someone had moved them up there out of the way. "Typical," she muttered when she saw they were on the highest shelf. Standing on her tip toes she stretched up to get them.

Suddenly she knew George was there behind her, the smell of his expensive cologne was overwhelming. He reached up and with one hand took two cups off the shelf for her, trapping her against the kitchen cabinet as he did so, holding her there as his other hand went under her skirt to close around one of her bare ass cheeks. He squeezed it gently, delighting in the firmness and shape of her delightfully pert backside.

"Wh... what... what are you... you doing," she stammered, "please stop... please..."

Placing the cups on the work surface George lent forward and nuzzled into her neck. "You smell fantastic, Christy," he murmured, "what's that you're wearing?"

"Chris... Christian Dior," she stuttered, not understanding why she was having a conversation with him rather than trying to push him away, "it's my favourite perfume."

"Divine," breathed George as he brushed her soft hair to one side and nibbled her ear. As he did so, his hand was still caressing and fondling her ass cheek beneath her skirt. She shuddered.

"No please... you shouldn't be doing... doing... this... oooooohhh..."

George teased her ear lobe with the tip of his tongue before trailing it down lower. His lips brushed her skin and then as he planted little kisses on her neck he felt her stiffen.

"Uuummmm," Christy couldn't help but moan as small jolts of electricity sparked through her body. She arched her back, thereby showcasing her breasts, making them appear even larger, pushing them out in such a way as if she was trying to draw his attention to her body. George smiled to himself. It was probably a deep-rooted feminine instinct to act that way but if so, she didn't need to bother. He was already attracted to her.

And if she WAS instinctively offering him her body, then who was he to deny her? With his left hand still busily engaged in exploring the delights of her peachy ass beneath her skirt, he closed his other hand around her right breast, instantly drawing delight in the shape and heaviness before he squeezed it gently.

"Uuummmm," Christy moaned again, as she shifted her stance and gyrated her hips, which pushed her ass against George's growing bulge. She knew she shouldn't be doing this. It was so wrong but George had unwittingly or maybe knowingly found all her erogenous zones, and having gone without intimacy for so long the young wife's body was undeniably primed and ready for sex, even if in her mind she wasn't.

George turned her around to face him, keeping her pushed up against the work surface. He looked deeply into her eyes as he slid his right hand from her breast down to her skirt.

Christy was undeniably aroused now. She knew she shouldn't be letting George do this to her but her body couldn't resist him. She knew she was intimidated by him. He was so big and strong and powerful and she was just a small, vulnerable young woman. If he wanted her, how would she be able to stop him? Plus he was doing all the things that turned her on.

Still holding her eyes, George slowly slid his hand under her skirt and began to move higher. Christy was shaking with fear and arousal. She wanted to stop him, yet she knew her body wanted him to continue. She was so conflicted. Her breathing grew ragged as his hand stopped at the top of her thighs. All he had to do now was extend his fingers and he would be touching her pussy. She gasped out loud at the anticipation but then it didn't come.

"Not yet Christy," George muttered to himself as he removed his hand from beneath her skirt. He looked into her eyes. She looked aroused and confused, which was just the reaction he was hoping for. He leaned in for a kiss and despite herself she pursed her lips together to accept it.

George smiled, as at the last second he turned his head away and kissed her neck instead, whilst at the same time he moved his hand to the front of her legs to rest it at the top of her thighs.

Christy's head went back and she gasped in surprise as he suckled her neck whilst his hand worked on her mound through her skirt. She knew she should be fighting him off but she just let him do what he wanted. She didn't know how to stop him, although she wasn't even sure if she actually wanted to.

George grinned as he saw Christy's eyes flicker and close and her body start to move. He felt her legs parting as his actions intensified. It was going so well but it was time to end this phase. He wasn't done with the foreplay just yet. He moved away, the hand rubbing her mound the last lingering contact he had with her body.

It took more than a few seconds for a flustered Christy to come to her senses, as she finally realized that the hand between her legs had gone. Her eyes flickered open. George had left.