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Fifty-seven, fifty-eight, fifty-nine…
Pixie sat upright in her chair watching the seconds follow into minutes as the hour marked four.
She gazed around the office.
One hour one more hour and the weekend would be here she thought.
Bored, she revolved slowly in her chair and gazed out across the office floor.
A landscape of cubicles and desks spread out in all directions on the fifth floor of Xavier House, Bond Street London. This partitioned, isolated world was sound-tracked by the hum and stutter of an incessant printer and the occasional blinking light. All life was bent over a computer except for a forlorn looking pot plant near the kitchen that arced towards the shiny water cooler as if for company.
How quickly it had all become so familiar to her, so normal, so everyday.
Two – no – three weeks she’d been here.
Regent Graphics a good company, going places, you’re lucky to be there, on the ground floor, work your way up, so lucky.
This she had been told by friends, and family (who had no idea what Regent Graphics even meant). She was grateful and needed the money. Being a receptionist was okay and for a girl of twenty she was doing pretty well.
As she turned, back to her desk, her gaze fell on Suzie, the Head of Accounts, typing away with a furious yet efficient rattle. I bet she writes a thousand emails a day thought Pixie, as she absently played with her hair, a golden lock around her finger. She thought of tonight: drinks with Mandy at that bar – would he be working tonight?
The throat clearing startled her out of her reverie. Quickly she swivelled round to face the offender, a professional and welcoming smile already on her lips.
Asked the man, a man she didn’t know.
‘Oh yes, very’
She said without thinking and instinctively reached for the phone.
He said, a disapproving face beneath a hat, moustache and glasses.
He looked at her as she pulled her chair in and made herself look the professional receptionist par-excellance that she was no doubt becoming.
She took him in, tall, fifties, smart brown suit, Burberry overcoat, scuffed but expensive looking suitcase, important, maybe? No name was forthcoming though. She looked up and smiled and was about to ask in her chirpy professional manner ‘Can I help you?’ when she saw that he was distracted, looking hungrily down her shirt. She paused and for five seconds she watched his lusting face, his tongue moving behind his tightly pressed lips.
She wondered ‘what’s he thinking, it’s a white shirt, that’s what professional receptionists par-excellance wear isn’t it?’
Unaware, as always, the effect she had on people. To catch his attention she ran a hand through the left bunch of her hair, as if to check the raspberry hairband was still in place.
He suddenly realised what he was doing, and turned away.
‘Look lively girl for god sake!’
He spluttered as he stormed past her.
Before she could say anything Neil (the manager) was at his office door with a nervous swallow of air and a feeble handshake on offer.
‘Who hired the damn bimbo? Nothing but air in her.’
He said under his breath as he passed Neil. Neil smiled weakly, followed the man in and gently closed the door. Before she could begin to make sense of what had just happened Suzie was at her left ear.
‘The Boss Pixie, the top dog, the man who pays all our wages. Well done on a fine first impression.’
Suzie straightened up, ran her eyes over Pixie’s figure, a sour twist passed her lips and she marched back and returned to her epic cacophonous typing session.
Pixie (oblivious to her sarcasm), looked after her admiring Suzie’s defiant efficiency, so professional, and how mice of her to tell Pixie who he was. She’d try and remember him from now on. But within three seconds her thoughts were preoccupied with post work drinks, she thought of the barman, she thought of…
Oh yes, fifty-five minutes to go!
From the very beginning Suzie had been standoffish with her and keen to stress her importance to the office and explained Pixie’s job to her: to smile, answer the phone, handle the post, sign people in and push her tits out. That was in the first hour of her first day over a cup of thin tasting instant cafe-nothing in a plastic cup.
Suzie was everything Pixie was not. Where Pixie was polite, Suzie was curt. Pixie was 5ft 5″, Suzie was 6ft and had a back like a ramrod so she looked even taller. Pixie liked clothes that clung. She like short skirts and liked to wear her hair in bunches with her lips cherry red. Suzie dressed like a female Prime Minister and was very proud of her glossy very dark, very straight angular cut ‘no bullshit’ hair. Pixie was, well buxom would not be quite right, pneumatic; that’s the word! Suzie was athletic and tough. Pixie liked Suzie – Suzie hated Pixie. Suzie hated her cuteness and her porcelain skin, and (with particular venomous vim) those ‘ridiculous balloons she’s got stuck Travesti on her chest’ (subject of office gossip from the second Pixie stepped out of the lift) and that was all there was to it.
Pixie reached under the desk for her bag, retrieved her compact and snapping open the lid, wondering if she needed to redo her mascara before she left. She looked at her eyes, like the Earth, arctic blue, innocence stirred there and something yet to define itself. Her thoughts lost themselves for a moment as she gazed at herself.
BANG! She almost spilled out of her chair as she let out a small yelp, her mirror skidding over the floor.
The Boss (Mr Regent? Mr Graphic – is that even a name?), had brought his palm down hard onto reception. She’d not noticed him leave Neil’s office.
‘Can you at least try to look like you’re at work? Might as well get a doll, wouldn’t make the blinding difference, cheaper too!’
His angry face startled her as she looked nervously up, her bottom lip firmly bit. For a moment the boss gazed at her and down at her panting breasts, packed tight in her white shirt. He swallowed, jerked around and stalked off.
He pressed for the lift,
‘Come on, come on’
He said waiting impatiently for the six seconds the lift took to respond. As the doors opened he stood facing her looking thoroughly disinterested, but she sensed his eyes on her, on her chest.
What is it about this shirt has it got a coffee stain or something? She checked — no coffee.
At 4.40pm Neil called her into his office. As she passed Suzie stared at her, as did others in the office but not with Suzie’s blatancy.
‘Close the door please’
Neil took his place behind his shiny empty desk. Pixie smiled, did as he asked.
‘Take a seat’
‘Now you’ve been here, what three weeks?’
His gaze fluttered to her chest and he felt a small heat begin within him. He crossed his legs, coughed.
‘Right, well now you’ve settled in I’m putting the work schedule back as it was alright, the way we had it all organised when Carrie, you’re predecessor was here. That ok? You know what you’re doing and everything don’t you, not too difficult?’
His eyes again went to her chest he could see the pale gap between her breasts and the very slight fringe of her white cotton bra. I wondered if it’s true what he had overheard Suzie saying about them being…
Pixie chimed, Neil thoughts snapped back.
‘Great, great, no problem, then you’ll be fine being here without Suzie or me on Saturdays? Just open up, it’s pretty quiet, just do what you do. Good, good. Suzie will be happy with everything back to normal, she hates, no loathes, working Saturdays.’
Pixie sounded small, she was a little confused here. She had been here three weeks no one had said anything about Saturdays to her.
‘Yes, you’ll get overtime of course, just a few hours 9 till 1 ok?’
‘Oh’ she sank into her chair.
Tonight, Mandy, that guy. She’d not been out in ages, Mandy was all pumped up, she was going to speak to him, they were going to stay out all night, she was going to stay at Mandy’s out west. She had so, so looked forward to it. Polite drinks and an early night just wouldn’t cut it. Plus Mandy with her man troubles finally at an end she needed this night too.
‘But I made plans’
She said meekly.
She caught Neil gazing at her chest mid thought (‘Suzie’s sure she’s had them…’)
‘Well unmake them’
He said matter of fact tearing his eyes away from her.
‘Is there no way around it just this once?’
‘ Suzie won’t cover for you so there’s no point even asking. Look I’m sorry for snapping but that’s just the way it is.’
Pixie nodded and went to get up and began trying to formulate her excuses to Mandy when a nervous energy seized Neil.
A burning in him had taken full hold and in an instant, a madness had aroused itself within him.
He scrambled round the desk, stealing a nanosecond of her cleavage.
‘I tell you what, maybe we could arrange something, just er.. what time is it? Right it’s ten to, look after five hang around just till people have left and just pop in and I’ll see if I can sort it out ok?’
Pixie’s heart leapt as did she and without thinking she wrapped herself around him. Her breasts pressed hard against him and in the folds of his suit his cock roared forth against her leg, stiff, and moist and ready. Pixie felt it against her and withdrew, she didn’t know what it was, but something hard and warm had pressed against her.
‘Pen, it’s a pen!’
He quickly withdrew a pen from his pocket and threw it on his desk as he rushed to his seat so that his beating cock pressing against his trousers like a battering ram to get through wouldn’t catch her eye.
‘Off you go, past five when people have left ok, ok?’
Confused, happy but confused, Pixie absently played with her butter blonde locks, smiled, and half skipped Ankara Travesti back to reception. Suzie looked on, hard.
‘Has everyone left?’
Neil asked as Pixie answered his call.
‘Pull up a chair, er Pixie, comfortable ok? Is the door shut? Good, and everyone’s gone? Blimey it’s only eight past. That’s Friday for you!’
Neil laughed nervously trying to relax into the craziness that has been smoothly working over him ever since Pixie had skipped out a quarter of an hour ago.
Pixie sat there expectant, she didn’t want to let Mandy down, she wanted a glass of wine in her hand and that barman’s number in the other by the end of the night. She sat up straight her breasts sticking straight out Neil was being driven crazy by them he tried to keep control.
‘Look, what I’m about to say I’ve never done before, so please just hear me out, don’t be offended or angry ok, it’s just an idea, nothing really ok?’
He was so nervous but Pixie didn’t notice. She looked at his smiling face and nodded without knowing why or what Neil was talking about.
‘Look, Pixie, you want the weekend off right?’
She said in her little girl voice.
‘Well, if I get someone to cover for you, god she’ll kill me, but just this one time, but after that you have to do Saturdays.’
‘Of course, it’s just I didn’t know till this afternoon, but yes I’ll work every Saturday I promise.’
He muttered. He stood up and went over to the blinds, with a twist the room fell into shadow at its edges.
‘Now Pixie you sure you want tomorrow off?’
She nodded slowly.
‘Because well, if I do something for you…’
His cock burned in his trousers he didn’t care if she knew it, he was going to the edge of madness, it didn’t matter no backtracking now man, look at her for godsake!
‘…You do something for me.’
‘I’ll do anything for a Saturday’
Pixie blurted out looking at him. He faced her. What’s that big thing in his trousers, a stapler maybe, a whole bunch of pens? She asked herself.
‘I want you on your knees Pixie, I want you to be a good girl and I want you on your knees. That is what I want for giving you tomorrow off.’
He didn’t falter, he stood there defiant. He impressed himself.
Pixie slipped off the chair and slowly curled her feet under herself, she was confused, she looked up, those big blue eyes under those flashing lashes.
‘You want me to beg?’
She asked confused.
‘Beg, beg for the day off?’
She nodded like a china doll.
‘What do you take me for? No, I want you to, I want you to suck my cock.’
He grabbed her hand and pressed it against his cock.
Pixie didn’t falter,
‘Ooh really, but Neil, I can’t, you’re my…’
‘You did say you’d do anything for a Saturday?’
‘Yes, but your married aren’t you?’
‘But wouldn’t it be wrong?’
‘What’s wrong about it? You get the weekend to do with as you please and all I ask in return is for you to open that pretty little mouth of yours and put my cock in it. It’s fair isn’t it, I’m not asking for much am I?’
‘No, I guess not, not really, when you put it like that.’
‘You’ve done it before?’
Pixie’s face lit up, she smiled from ear to ear, arranged her hair and with a sudden flush of excitement got herself ready. She felt a tingle run through her, a soft wave, a sparkle. What a thing to happen she mused for an instant. As she readied herself, Neil standing over her placed his hand under her chin and raised her expectant face. He couldn’t believe how well it had all gone, all so perfectly.
‘Oh, take you’re shirt off Pixie while you’re doing it, please.’
‘Oh, is it dirty or something?’
She started to un-bottton it,
‘People have been staring at it all day.’
She wriggled herself free.
Neil was at the precipice of ecstasy as he gazed at her, what a sight. Expectant little Pixie, 5ft 5 inches of blonde, cream, cherry lips and those beautifully sculpted breasts shaped like a Basketball split in half and placed on her chest. Her cotton bra could barely contain them; two small arcs of nut-brown areola peaked forth.
Pixie had readied herself again, grinning with expectation. blowjob’s she’d once told Mandy we’re her favourite thing in the whole world, well after her boobs and grilled cheese sandwiches. No blowjobs first – boobs second – then sandwiches.
He pointed at her chest.
She automatically cupped them and looked down at them,
Neil groaned silently with desire,
‘Are they, er… real?’
Pixie asked cupping her breasts tighter then looking up wide-eyed.
‘Yes, natural or…’
‘Oh, I see what you mean!’
Pixie laughed and rocked back.
‘Did you think these were natural?’
‘I didn’t know what to think, but I wondered.’
‘Oh, I’ll have to go back and ask for a refund İstanbul Travesti if you think they look natural! Perish the thought. Of course they’re fake. I had them done last year, took forever to save up I can tell you but when I set my mind on something… Does it matter? I know some guys don’t like plastic’
‘I don’t know, I’ve never felt…’
She sprang up playfully.
‘Have a squeeze’.
He reached out and ran his hands all over them. She shivered with the pleasure of his touch. They felt soft, yet hard, not like natural breasts but not like rocks either (as Suzie had confidently gossiped), they were round and beautiful to see, she slipped her bra off and he ran his finger tips over her little puckered nipples.
‘What do you think? Do you like them?’
Pixie smiled questioningly up at him.
He stuttered, his thoughts melting inside him,
‘They take some getting used to, they’re not any worse or better than natural, just different. I love them, I think they’re beautiful.’
‘Some people think they’re too big, do you?’
‘Oh, no, no, no.’
His voice trailed off.
Neil could take no more he pushed her softly to the floor and started frantically to undo his belt.
‘You’ll do anything for a Saturday right?’
He looked down at her, his voice hard and commanding.
She looked up playfully, nodded, sticking her breasts out proudly like a figurehead on the bow of a ship.
‘Well, in exchange I want you to be my cock sucking, blonde bimbo slut, got it?’
He amazed himself sometimes he really did, who was he? he thought
Pixie was taken aback, she hadn’t thought Neil the type but hey, she was getting pretty wet. She ran her fingertips against her pussy underneath her little black miniskirt.
Neil tugged his trousers and boxers down, stepped out of them and impatiently kicked them away, his sock and shoes closely followed.
And suddenly there before her it was: a cock crying out, reaching to her, beseeching her to do one simple little thing, put it in her mouth. His cock shining was a pretty six incher, not the biggest she’d seen, but it was pretty, not thickly veined nor too thin or curved, it arched toward her like a flower to the sun.
She studied it for a moment then with the raw excitement it brought over her (she was so wet), she surrendered to it and open mouthed took it all, each and every inch into her mouth and then instantly pulled back for air.
Before she’d had a second to press the sweet juice of his pre-cum onto her lips, he grasped her head. His hand sank into her beautiful gilded locks and pressed her mouth violently against his cock. Her tongue played on his helmet, rolled and pressed against his shaft, she grasped it by the base, smooth like a stone and pushed it into and against the sides of her mouth. Shining, wet, solid and hard as an iron bar, she placed her fingers around it and jerked him off violently.
He was near collapse over her, holding her head for stability, for sanity! His mind was gone, his body was not his own it was independent of him. The force that was keeping it all together whilst blowing it blissfully apart was flowing from Pixie’s mouth into him and from his cock into her beautiful mouth.
Pixie nodded, she understood, she quickly pushed him into a chair and on her knees before him she leaned over and pressed her breasts against each side of his cock. She pushed them up and down frantically,
Neil was gasping for air as she did it with increasing ferocity till her breasts were shimmering and silvered with pre-cum.
Neil stumbled up, his cock back in her face.
‘Last time my beautiful plastic slut bimbo, do it for Saturday’.
His words blew her mind. Her natural submissiveness was in its element, how she wanted to feel that cock in her mouth again.
She was before him, his hand was again nestled in her golden hair, she looked up he looked down,
‘Swallow every drop’
‘If a single drop escapes from your lips you can forget Saturday’
She was so excited, he pushed her forcefully onto his cock and she used every part of her mouth and all her experience to bear on the impending moment of bliss.
Neil was letting go, he was weakening, but she wouldn’t let him, she ran a hand up his chest to steady him, his cock immersed in her delicious flecks and bites.
Pixie felt the heat rising in her wet mouth, she was dizzy with the violent thrusts of his cock but she knew she was giving him the best blowjob he’d ever had; she prided herself on her cock-sucking talents (perhaps you’re only genuine talent, Mandy had teased her once).
Then Neil came, like a sudden explosion followed by a seemingly endless stillness that lasts a second at most.
Her mouth filled, the sweet beautiful taste, he flowed into her, she felt his sudden quietness, his emptying as she swallowed each drop. His hard cock was snug in her mouth, softness was taking it but she wouldn’t let him go that easily. She began to politely lick, akin to a kitten, the very tip of his glistening cock, when…
‘Neil, have you got my report on….’
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