“Mr. Street is here.”

She sat alone in the office after the admin closed the door. She allowed herself to breathe again, before brushing blonde bangs out of her eyes. Her pageboy cut swung just over top of her shoulders. She stood and straightened her black jacket over white blouse and ran her hand over the front of her black skirt.

Her desk was a dark mahogany, with a large matching wall unit behind it. Three grey walls had the usual drab motivational posters, and the fourth had a window showing the snow falling as cars, three stories below, made their way along the tire tracks in the white stuff.

She opened her office door and walked out.

The silence was solid. The eyes of the inside sales staff watched her make the trek from her office to reception. She was not a tall woman, and had curves that made her look cuddly in her mind.

“Mr. Street,” she said with a smile and extending her hand to the man seated in the reception chair.

He stood and towered over her by more than a head. His black suit was exquisitely crisp with his white shirt and red tie. A black trench coat lay over one arm and a matching fedora was grasped in that hand. He smiled between chiseled cheeks and beneath blue eyes and dark hair. “Mrs. Phillips. Nice to finally meet you.” He shook her hand warmly. He picked up his briefcase and awaited her lead.

Turning from him, she retraced her steps. “This is our sales floor.”

“Where it all happens,” he cut in nodding at the people in the cubicles.

She opened her office door and held it for him. “Please have a seat. Would you like a coffee or water?”

Hey lay his coat on one of the two chairs in front of her desk. “No, I’m good.”

She closed the door.

20 minutes earlier

The wind blasted him as he stepped out of the subway. Snow stinging his face as the blizzard attacked the city.

He crawled a few doors before he found the right address. Quickly ducking inside he kicked the snow off his shoes and dusted himself off. His blue eyes rolled seeing the ketchup stain on his coat.

He stood in front of the security desk and stripped his coat off. As he pulled his fedora off, he dropped the trench coat on to the wet floor.

The security guard chuckled at him.

He picked up the, now drenched coat and lay it over his arm. His black suit was a disaster of creases.

His heart started pounding in his chest as he boarded the elevator for the third floor. The mirrors in the elevator should the red cheeks of his round face which were finally starting to warm. He thought about pulling the red sweater from his briefcase but decided it was too late.

The elevator door opened directly in front of the reception desk.

He walked up to the desk. With a shaky voice he said, “I’m here to see Mrs. Phillips.”

The raven haired receptionist smiled at him. “And you are?”

“Cliff Street.”

The receptionists face froze. For a moment she sat stunned before she stood. The smile returned. “Please have a seat. I’ll get her.” She took off like Andretti speeding towards the offices.

Sitting as instructed, Cliff dusted a crumb off his chest that he missed.

The receptionist returned and eyed him suspiciously.

He heard a door close down the hall causing his heart to skip a beat. Then she appeared, a goddess to behold.

She was petite and blonde. Her black skirt was a tongue lapping at her gorgeous legs just above the knee.

“Mr. Street,” she said with a smile and extending her hand.

He stood and found he was slightly taller. Her curves were perfect and helped by her black jacket being just tight enough to show them.

He looked straight into her green eyes, and spoke as clearly as he could,”Mrs. Phillips. Nice to finally meet you.” He shook her hand warmly. He picked up his briefcase and awaited her lead.

Turning from him, she led him past reception and down the hall into a large open area partitioned with thirty or forty desks. “This is our sales floor.”

“Where it all happens,” he cut in nodding at the people in the cubicles.

Their eyes all followed him in the near silence. They looked afraid.

She opened her office door and held it for him. “Please have a seat. Would you like a coffee or water?”

Hey lay his coat on one of the two chairs in front of her desk. “No, I’m good.”

She closed the door.

She almost jumped him. Her lips met his and slammed his ass up against her desk causing it to shift as they tried to keep balance.

Their tongues finished their initial dance, and their lips parted so they could catch their breath.

“Gentle, now,” Cliff chastised. “We can break the bed at my hotel later.”

She smiled and kissed him lightly. “Nice to finally meet you, Mr. Street.”

He grinned for a moment. “Um…what did you tell your staff? They were looking at me like I was the Grim Reaper.”

“You’re hear to discuss the corporate take over.” Her hand reached down to his zipper. “Any screaming orgasm will be them thinking I’m angry with you over lay offs.”

“I am here for the take over, but we agreed no layoffs.”

“I know that. You know that. They’ll think I won that for them.” She unzipped him quickly. Her left hand stroked his bald head while her right slipped into his boxers. “I think it is win-win. They keep their jobs. I look tougher to them. I get an orgasm.”

Cliff raised a Spokian eyebrow as he felt her fingernails dragging along his now hard cock. “Just one orgasm?”

She giggled. “For now…”

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