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Servicing Foxx Inc: Part 4

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Servicing Foxx Inc: Part 4
Trouble In Paradise

By PtmcPilot listen to the ►Podcast at Steamy Stories.



As a brief recap, I had separated from the Navy a few weeks

ago after six years in submarines. Growing bored of lounging around my parents'
house, I began a job search, and to my surprise I found myself in an interview
a short time later. An interview, believe it or not, that ended with my having
sex with my hiring manager. My job, should I choose to accept it, was to
sexually service the women of Foxx Inc. Just based on the interview, it was
good work if you can get it.

It was 10 hundred hours on the first Thursday of my first

week at Foxx Inc. when I was reminded that, as much fun as it was, fucking, or
rather servicing, the women of the firm was still a job. The best, most
awesome, craziest fun job possible, yes, but still a job.

10:00 when I received my first all-too-terse email from HR,

the delectable Ms. Olson. It was a calendar appointment for 10:15 under the
title, "Performance Review." This made me not a little nervous. After
all, I'd been on the job for all of three days and a wakeup. That morning had
started with an off the hook romp with a tiny blonde from bookkeeping. I
thought it had gone pretty darn well, yet here I was, not fifteen minutes after
showering post romp, when this performance review threw a monkey wrench into
the works. There was no doubt the blonde and the review were connected, and it
was very much bothering me that I did not know why.

I was finishing my second bottle of pineapple juice for the

morning when I heard the click and Ms. Olson walked into my office. I stood,
said, "Good morning," and gestured to a chair.

Her look was unusually serious as she took the offered seat.

She looked at me with a level gaze and said, "Really Mr. Jeffries. I
thought the first complaint would take longer than three days."

"Complaint?" I repeated, trying to remain calm

even as I contemplated losing the best job in the history of employment.

She raised an eyebrow and leaned back in the chair. Yes, but more of a, 'I asked for the dressing on the side' than a 'I demand this

person be fired' kind of complaint.

I let out a breath I hadn't known I'd been holding. She

continued, "I'd like to be sure I have the facts straight before we
discuss corrective action."

Once again, it was unreal how well her phrasing matched with

my nuclear submarine background. She seemed to be waiting on me, so I simply
said, "Of course, that makes sense."

"Good," she said. "Now, let's begin at the

beginning. When Ms. Cartwright came into your office this morning at 0 9 15,
did she present her secondary badge?"

"Yes, she did."

"Presuming you examined it, what codes did you

see?" she asked, her expression still stern.

I thought about it for only a second, the combination was a

vivid memory. It was a bit difficult to be this direct with her even after
working here a few days. "Well, from top to bottom, NCL, FFK, ANO and
CAN."

"I'm impressed by your memory of the codes, but I am

more interested in what they meant to you." I shifted in my seat and she
immediately noticed. The eyebrow went up again. "Don't get bashful on me
Thomas, I'm quite serious," she said.

I cleared my throat, then said, "Yes, well, those mean;

1.      

name calling, er,

2.      

face fucking,

3.      

anal only, and

4.      

come wherever you like that I didn't say to
avoid "

She smiled, but with clarity rather than mirth. "Good,

of course you are correct. Now that we are clear on terminology and meaning, I
have a few questions for you as I try to determine what really happened during
your encounter earlier. Please answer as succinctly as you can." She
waited for me to nod my understanding before continuing. "Mr.
Jeffries," she said like an attorney examining a witness, "when you
had your cock in Ms. Cartwright's mouth, would you characterize the event more
as fellatio or facefucking?"

You know, even after a crazy few days, this woman could

leave me speechless. "I, er, well," I stammered.

Her expression did not change, "I'm fairly sure you

comprehend the difference, Mr. Jeffries, do you not?"

I nodded, "I do." Rather than prompting me, she

waited for me to speak. I finally did. "I would have to say more like
fellatio."

She smiled again, the same hard smile of an attorney winning

a point. "That was her account as well. Now, how many times did you use a
derogatory term with her, like cunt or slut?"

This was a really fucked up Thursday, I have to say.

"Once or twice? I guess? I don't really remember."

"Is it possible that your execution of 'name

calling'", she used air quotes, "was limited to one use of the term
'slut'?"

I sighed, "Yes."

She nodded, "Now, did you, or did you not touch her

anus with one or more fingers?"

My mouth fell open before I could catch it. I stammered,

"Um, yes, yes I did. But,"

"What Mr. Jeffries? Are you going to provide some kind

of reason for the unwanted touching?" she scolded me.

"Well, I thought,"

"You thought the unwanted touching was actually

wanted?"

"Well, no, I thought it was necessary to,"

"Stop!" she barked. I say barked because she

raised her voice suddenly. I mean, it wasn't a yell or a scream, just something
akin your Chief saying "shut it!"

"I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt and

assume your actions were intended to lubricate Ms. Cartwright prior to
penetration. Would that be correct?"

Again I let out a breath. It seemed odd to be on the verge

of getting canned for the offense of lubing up a coworkers asshole before you
plowed her. Then again, that I should find that odd was the weirdest kind of
surreal. "Yes, Ms. Olson, that was my intent."

She nodded. "And why do you suppose, you essentially

had Ms. Olson perform fellatio rather than fucking her face, as she
requested?" When I did not immediately answer she added, "And why did
you simply call her a slut once when she requested name calling?"

Now that kind of threw me for a loop, and my expression must

have said so. I didn't have an answer right away. She used the "60
Minutes" interview technique and remained quiet, staring at me while I
tried to compose an answer. After some time I said quietly, "Because I'm
not entirely comfortable doing those things."

Now her face broke into an honest, warm smile. "Okay

Tom, now we can talk." She stood and slowly paced around the room.
"Tell me, have any of the women here asked you to pinch them quite
hard?"

"Sure," I said quickly.

"Ah. And have any of them wanted you to pull their

hair? Pin their arms down?"

"Um, yes," I said.

"Okay. Assuming that those things are generally more

uncomfortable than pressing lube into one's ass, why do you suppose you were
okay not questioning their requests?" she said, and stopped to look at me.
Her expression was kind of like a teacher, waiting for me to figure out the
right answer.

It took a minute before something registered. It did not

make me feel better. I suddenly had the realization that while my 'hard no's'
were off the table, everything else was expected of the PBS. "I suppose
because I like to do those things."

She smiled, pleasantly. She sat down again. "That is a

very enlightened thing for a twenty something to figure out. I'm once again
quite pleased with myself for finding and hiring you. Yes, you are entirely
correct. You are a considerate, caring, and talented lover. And as you have
only your experience as a guide, you will find Foxx Inc. is both simpler and
more challenging. You don't need to figure out what these women want. Your job
is to provide what they need. What they ask for. Mostly they will ask for it
directly, and that is their responsibility. But it may be challenging if what
they want is not typically your cup of tea. If you had throat fucked Jenny
Cartwright until she couldn't talk for a day, that would be on her. If you had
pounded her ass so she worked standing up for a week, that would be on her.
Asking you to throat fuck her and instead requiring her to blow you, is on
you."

Again, I was deeply intrigued. She went on, "If I want

to get reamed with no lube, then all I have to do is put ANO on my badge and
present my ass to you without getting ready." She saw I was still staring,
"Most, if not all, wouldn't do that."

I gulped, "I'm not sure how to go about that level of

acting."

She stood and shrugged, "Not my problem. However, I am

prepared to give you a bit of training."

"Training?" I said. The confusion no doubt obvious

on my face.

She smirked, "First a couple of thoughts. Psych

yourself up, give yourself a moment to get into character. It need not be
instantaneous, especially if the request throws you for a loop. But yes,
training." She turned to leave, but looked back at me as she put her hand
on the door handle, "And for that, Ms. Cartwright will be back to reassess
you at 13 hundred. Do make me proud Thomas." And with that she left.

I pondered my future for a good ten minutes before I

returned to one of my favorite movie quotes, "There is no fate but what we
make." And that meant I had to accept one thing above all else, get off on
whatever the woman wanted. After another ten minutes I was still wondering if I
could do it. I sat and stared at the ceiling until just after noon, then went
to the cafeteria to get lunch. As I have not mentioned it until now, the
uniform I sported that day was that of a brown truck deliveryman, complete with
brown socks and sneakers. The deliveryman's name was 'Hank.' If Ms. Cartwright
had said anything untoward about me after our morning encounter, none of the
women eating lunch seemed to be affected. Those that knew me, and those that
just knew who I was, either looked at me and smirked, grinned, gave me no
notice or perhaps a slight wave.

Cindy, aka Velma, from IT caught my eye and gestured me to

come over. She looked at my name tag as I sat down across from her. "Hey,
Hank, how are you today?" I shrugged and she added, "I guess you
don't have a delivery for me this afternoon?"

"Truth is I don't really know the delivery

schedule," I said without much enthusiasm as I dug into my sandwich.

Cindy gave me a long wink, "No? From what I heard you

need to make a couple of deliveries to the, ah, rear entrance. If you get my
meaning."

I swallowed heavily, "I see. And if you were making

such a delivery, would you have any advice?"

Her face lit up with a full smile, "Well, as you know,

I tend to take my deliveries via the main entrance. But from what I've heard,
the loading dock back there is reinforced. You could really just slam into it
and the delivery van and the dock would be just fine. But that's just the
packages, mostly. You could deposit any, ah, loads, through the back door, or
right on the front porch." When I didn't say anything she leaned forward,
resting her considerable chest on the table and lowering her voice, "Or
perhaps I need to be more blunt?"

"No, no," I said quietly, "that's not

necessary. But how did,"

She silenced me with a very brief gesture, "Jenny is a

talker, and between us, the least likely person you would ever expect to be a
sub, and then only sometimes."

At this point I was sporting a half woody and my thoughts

about my 13 hundred meeting had changed quite a bit. "Thanks Cindy. I'm
really looking forward to another romp with Velma."

She smiled broadly, "I'm sure she is as well."

And with that we concluded our meals in relative silence.

Back in my office I had about thirty minutes to consider how

to play my 'do over', as we used to say in the Navy, before the arrival of one
Jenny Cartwright. It was right about then that I remembered a small box in the
top left hand drawer of my desk, labeled, 'In Case Of Emergency.' That seemed a
bit strong for my current situation, but I opened the drawer and picked up the
box to check it out. Opening it I spied what looked like a couple dozen diamond
shaped blue pills. Well, that was one way to be sure you could get hard, but
that wasn't really my problem. Truth is, knowing that Jenny wanted me
to use her mouth and her ass had me nearly ready to go.

And then my memory flashed back to my interview last Friday.

To Ms. Olson's mention of a former girlfriend and lover, Tilly, and some of the
crazy encounters we'd had. On one such occasion she had somehow acquired a
couple tabs of viagra and suggested we spent the weekend 'sport fucking' as she
called it. Aside from having to force my erection into submission with ice a
couple times (that 4 hour erection warning was one I took seriously), we'd
fucked literally for hours. Only stopping to come up for air, food and water.
By the middle of the weekend we'd figured out how to only stop for restroom
breaks. But there was a particular thing I'd discovered about myself that
weekend, and a certain Ms. Cartwright was about to be the beneficiary of that
knowledge. I made a quick call to Ms. Olson about a closely related topic, and
she confirmed I was on solid ground unless Ms. Cartwright let me know
otherwise. At a quarter to one I took half a tablet, sat behind my desk, and
waited for my 'service' appointment.

Promptly at 13 hundred the key reader chimed and the door

lock 'clicked' loudly. Entering my office was Jenny Cartwright. Blonde, very
attractive, modest b-cup breasts, and now sporting a skirt and three inch
heels. Her expression was neutral as she regarded me, "Mr. Jeffries,"
she said.

I gestured her to come forward, "Don't know who the

fuck that is." I poked a thumb toward my name tag, "Name's Hank. And
you must be the cunt tried to get me fired this morning."

To my surprise and pleasure, she seemed surprised and taken

aback. That, or she was a really great actress. "Lemme see your badge
already," I said, and she handed it to me. While her card this morning had
been labeled with a list, now it was a word cloud, and with all the code words
in the same size font there was clearly no priority.

Taking a deep breath I paused and considered what was there.

Name calling, face fucking, choking, ass fucking, and come pretty much anywhere
you like. I didn't need to check to know I was sporting an iron hard cock. I
backed the chair away from my desk and stood, proudly displaying said cock as I
had taken off my shorts and underwear. Again she seemed surprised. "Get on
your knees and open your mouth, bitch, or I'll let Ms. Olson know what really
happened this morning." When she didn't immediately move to do so, I went
right up to her, put my hands firmly around her neck and squeezed just enough
to show I meant it. As I pressed down she sank to her knees. I relinquished my
grip on her throat and gathered up a handful of her shoulder length hair. When
I poked my cock against her lips and she didn't open her mouth, I used my other
hand to pinch her nose closed. She looked up at me with a bit of fear in her
eyes, and the second she exhaled I jammed my cock into her open mouth. I got
grazed by a couple teeth, but I wasn't deterred.

Her hands pushed at my thighs as I held myself halfway into

her mouth. "I'm pretty sure you've got the talented tongue of a slut, so
get using it," I said as I started to thrust slowly in and out of her
mouth. She responded as she had this morning, rather enthusiastically running
her tongue over the head of my cock. But this time, I knew that was the wrong
move. It was time to start making her earn what she wanted. When I heard her
exhale I thrust my cock slowly and fully into her mouth and back into her throat.
Her eyes popped and she looked up at me as I held myself there, blocking her
windpipe. She batted at my thighs, and after a count of ten I pulled back and
watched as she coughed, spit, and gasped for air. The instant she had a breath
I started to fuck her mouth with slow, long strokes. She gagged a little, and I
didn't let it stop me. I repeated this move, keeping her guessing as to when
she would get to breathe and just how deep I would go. The viagra was helping
me hold off, but just barely. It was after several minutes of this I noticed
her hands were busy under her skirt. "So the slut gets off on a face
fucking, huh?"

And with that I actually tried to fuck her throat like a

cunt for about a minute. By the end her face was a complete mess and the smell
of sex in the air was strong. It appeared I might be on the right track after
all. Still controlling the movement of her head with a handful of her hair, I
pulled out of her mouth and pressed her onto her back in the middle of the
fluffy rug. I threw her skirt upward, then pulled her top up over her breasts.
Her hands had gone back to rubbing her cunt and she wasn't wearing any panties.
I let go of her hair and put my hand on her throat, pushing enough to let her
know I was still in charge. Kneeling between her thighs, I pushed one leg back
then placed the head of my cock against her asshole. "Always nice to see a
dirty cunt play with herself while I pound her ass."

She was looking me right in the eye as I started to push

forward. To my surprise, she was clenched. Well, I figured, if that's what she
wants. And with that I bucked into her with all my power. I did not anticipate
what happened next. Her back arched, her breath caught, her eyes flew wide open
and then rolled back, and she came like a bomb. She didn't make a lot of noise,
but as I fucked her delightful ass she bucked and thrashed and moaned and
squeaked like some kind of crazy ride at a sex carnival. I swear you almost
needed cowboy training to stay in the saddle.

After twenty or so seconds she seemed to come back to earth,

which is when she looked at me in surprise, "You, you're still
going?" she panted.

At this I decided it was time to end round one and give her

a reward. I moved my hand once again to her hair and held her head to the
floor. "Since my little ass-slut asked for it," I said, feeling
myself getting very close to coming. She seemed to try and push at me, and that
tripped the trigger. At once I withdrew from the tightness that was her ass and
crawled up next to her face. She might have tried to look away, but I held her
in place as I groaned aloud as my climax hit. I burst all over her face,
covering her with shot after shot as my ejaculation went on. She sputtered as
my come landed on her mouth, then her eyes and forehead. I shouted as I peaked,
then shuddered as I squirted a bit more on her.

And now it was time for the surprise. Letting go of her hair

I grabbed both ankles and flipped her onto her belly. Straddling her ass I once
again lined up my cock with her ass. That weekend with Tilly had revealed that
while on viagra I could enjoy a refractory period without actually losing my
erection, provided I kept the stimulation to a minimum. So I wasn't exactly
sure how this was going to play out when I unceremoniously sank my cock back into
her ass. I was greeted with a guttural 'Ugh' as I pushed into her ass. I moved
very little, and while she seemed to be trying to do so, my weight was
positioned to all but prevent that.

I held myself inside her, my hips hard up against her ass.

She turned her come covered face to look at me, "Still, hard?"

"Nice cunt like you has such a great ass, it's really

motivating." I gave her a stroke now and then, careful to never let my head
past her tight sphincter. I could tell by her movements she was getting
restless. She'd already come once, I'd come on her face, and yet here I was
firmly ensconced in her ass...and hard as anything ever was. She bucked her
hips a couple of times, groaned, then clenched her ass around me. Still, she
said nothing.

Finally, after more than a few minutes and with her still

anally impaled on my (happily proud of it) still quite hard cock, she turned
that come covered visage toward me, tried to blow some hair (that was stuck
stuck to her face with come) out of her face and said in a low and tired voice,
"How, how are you still going?"

I leered at her, putting my hands in the small of her back

and shifting my weight to them as I pulled mostly out of her. With her now
deliciously pinned under me, I grunted, "We're just getting started."
And I lunged into her, to be rewarded with a grunt of her own. I worked my
strokes up to a full on rapid pounding, urged on by the feeling that I now knew
I'd be able to come again.

After a good few minutes of this, she began moaning. And

that was when things changed a bit. As her moaning got louder she was starting
to try and say something, but it was like my cock kept forcing her breath out.
She was kind of frantically wiggling under me, and it looked like she was
trying to get her hands under her, but she couldn't. Then I heard her moan
something, "So, unnggh, clooose," she said.

As I continued to pound her without mercy, she was groaning

out those words like a mantra. "So," pant, pant, "close."
Over and over. And then, "Please."

Slowing just a bit, I said, "Please what?"

"Got. To. Touch. My, ugh, clit."

"I don't know, nice ass slut like you? That must be

terrible," I said.

"Please!" She pleaded.

"And why should I after all the trouble you've caused

me? I'm about to fill you up whether or not you get off."

"What do you want?" she asked.

"Oh no, I'm not falling for that, but I do think your

clenching asshole is just what I need to finish myself." On a down stroke
I held myself fully inside her, seized her wrists and held them behind her with
one of my hands. Then, I shifted us so we were on our sides, and I moved her
top leg back over me, spreading her lewdly. I put my free fingers to her
mouth,"get 'em wet." And she did without protest.

I renewed my pounding of her ass and her breathing got

really shallow. I figured she must be so close it nearly hurt. "Tell me
exactly what you want me to do with your cunt."

"Ugh, tug my clit. Please."

I kept up my pace, and when I knew I was close I said,

"I'm going to make you come now, because it'll feel great for me,"
and with that I took her clit between my fingers and began to pull it up and
down, pinched between her slippery smooth lips. The result was immediate. She
grunted, her whole body seized up, and then she started to let out a wail. The
subsequent spasming of her ass sent me over the edge as well, and I erupted
into her ass. I continued to pump her rear full of cum as I slammed against her
ass with every thrust. By the time I was done, she'd become a limp, tired out
noodle.

Finally spent, I pulled out of her with a distinct

squelching sound, and turned to go use the facilities. "Nice fuck, I guess
you can stick around." After relieving myself I opened the door to find
her holding her clothes and waiting for her turn. Her face was a mess, but her
expression was a nice mix of satisfaction, exhaustion, and 'I've just been
thoroughly fucked.' She passed me without saying anything. I smiled to myself
as I put my brown shorts back on and resumed my seat behind the table.

She emerged a few minutes later, looking much more

presentable; however, it appeared the 'I just got rogered but good' expression
was going to be around a bit longer. As she reached the door she turned to me
and said, "Have a good afternoon, Hank."

I nodded, "It's off to a good start so far."

About twenty minutes later I was working on rehydrating when

my phone rang, "PBS," I said.

I recognized Ms. Olson's voice at once, "You were an

excellent find, Tom. I understand there is some special technique I need to
learn more about?"

I chuckled, "Reserved for only the hardest cases, Ms.

Olson."

"Touche, Mr. Jeffries, touche," and she hung up.

After the last several hours I decided to take a nap, and I

was still soundly asleep when I awakened to the feeling of a breast being
pressed against my lips. I parted my lips and fastened onto a nipple. An
unknown voice said, "I'm glad you're awake now." As the breast and
nipple pulled back, I saw an asian looking woman I did not immediately recognize.
She tugged at my shorts and I lifted my hips obligingly as I looked at her
badge. FOX, VSX and NIX, it read. That translated to my mind as 'I'm going to
blow you, and then I'm going to fuck you, and please do anything and everything
with my breasts that you like.' Her breasts were on the largish side, but not
huge, and she knelt on the couch next to me as she took my cock into her mouth.
I relaxed back into the cushions and enjoyed playing with her tits as she blew
me. It was a great combination.

After several minutes she pulled off me and told me to lay

on the rug (which I had changed out after mashing Ms. Cartwright's come covered
face into it an hour ago). As I repositioned, she removed her clothes and
draped them over a chair. Her pubic hair was limited to a fine strip, and her
lips were visibly wet and flared. She straddled my hips and leaned forward,
offering her breasts to me. I mauled them with my hands, my tongue, my lips, my
teeth, and pinched and kneaded them for all I was worth. Moments into this she
was moaning like crazy, and she angled her hips and took me inside her. With
the viagra still in my system I was hard as a pipe. My partner, now identified
as Janey Soo, clearly approved as she rode me like I was a proverbial bucking
bronco. However, this bronco was ready to be broken, so I just lay there and
let her do all the work. Well, that and I continued my thorough enjoyment of
her tits.

Her pace picked up and she was madly riding me, sliding her

hips back and forth and quickly stroking us both toward a climax. "Suck
'em and nibble on them, Hank. Time for the finish," she said. I did as she
asked, squeezing her full tits with a firm grip and sucking on her nipples like
my life depended on it. She groaned, then said, "Come in me, Hank. Come in
my cunt."

Next to someone saying 'come on my face,' those are the

words that get me every time. I groaned and grunted to let her know I was about
to come, and she did not disappoint. Somehow her stride got just a bit faster,
but stayed right on a steady pace. I felt myself go over the edge and knew she
would have a full cunt soon. My verbalizations triggered her, and then her
gyrations got a bit wilder. She rode me through a great climax, complete with
handfuls and mouthfuls of tits and nipples. What a happy way to go.

Finished, she leaned down and kissed me, hard, on the mouth.

It was a kiss full of passion even though we had both just come. My hands, of
course, never let go of her tits. And when she broke the kiss and started to
rise, I still had a firm grip on them. Placing her hands over mine she gently
pulled them away. "You've got to let go now," she said with a smirk.

I grinned and laced my fingers behind my head. She stood and

started dressing. "Until the next time," I said.

She blew me a kiss, "Looking forward to it."

And just like that, the day that started so poorly ended

quite nicely. Oh, I should mention that I had many, many more odd encounters
with Ms. Cartwright, and the most unexpected of those is worth its own, out of
sequence, story.

By PtmcPilot for Literotica

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