Author: Christopher Pierce
There are many hot three-word combinations.
“I love you” is one of them.
“Please fuck me” is another.
But my personal favorite is “Anything he wants”.
And I’ll tell you why.
Daryl Grant was an account representative from a sister company, scheduled to visit our metropolis for a few days only. But his account was rather important to our firm, which is why the boss wanted me to make sure his stay here was as pleasant as possible. As senior executive assistant, I usually wasn’t asked to do anything as mundane as travel arrangements.
But this time was different, the boss said. This man was different.
He was the key to a merger that had been six years in the making, and apparently, this visit was all about showing this rep how accommodating we could be to him. If suitably impressed, he would give the go-ahead to his superiors, and the deal would be closed.
So I made the travel arrangements for Daryl Grant as instructed. It was simple to do, I’d done it many times before, back when I was a junior assistant.
I even agreed to meet him at the airport and drive him to his hotel. I thought that was a little much, but no one asked for my opinion. But I thought what the hell, it got me out of work early.
“Take good care of Daryl Grant,” my boss said as I was leaving. “Make sure he gets anything he wants.”
“No problem,” I said, “He’ll get it.”
A few days later, at the airport, I stood near the gate that Mr. Grant’s plane would unload at. I held a sign with his name on it so he could identify me. Within moments the plane had arrived and the passengers were disembarking.
I searched the eyes of every well-dressed man in his early to mid-thirties, wondering which one he would be. The last few passengers walked out, and for a second I wondered if I was at the wrong gate. Where was Daryl Grant?
Then one last person appeared — and he was gorgeous!
Tall, at least 6’1″, handsome with dark brown hair and a clean-shaven face. He wasn’t buffed out, but he inhabited his expensive suit with confidence, his body lean and toned within his shirt and pants. His eyebrows were dark above his even darker eyes.
My mind was whirling: was it him? No, it couldn’t be! But it had to be! The man turned toward me, read my sign and gave me a big smile full of bright white teeth.
“You must be Chris,” he said.
“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Grant.” I answered, “We’ve been expecting you.”
We shook hands, and his grip was firm and warm. Just like something between my legs that was hardening just being this close to such an attractive man.
“When your boss said his secretary would meet me at the gate,” Mr. Grant said as he reluctantly released my hand, “I imagined a mousy woman in her fifties, certainly not…you.”
Was he coming on to me? I wasn’t sure — yet.
“I’m glad you’re pleased, Mr. Grant.” I said. “I’m here to escort you to your hotel, and to make sure all your needs are taken care of.”
He gave me that award-winning smile again.
“Well, they’ve thought of everything, haven’t they?” he asked.
“Yes, Sir,” I answered with a smile of my own. “I suppose they have. If you’ll come with me, please?”
“I’ll be right behind you.” he said.
I hope so, I thought but did not say. As I led him towards the terminal exit, I imagined being on my stomach, naked on top of a bed, with him behind me, on top of me, fucking my tight ass with his stiff cock.
Anything he wants, my boss had said, Anything he wants.
I led Mr. Grant through the crowded airport, fully aware of his eyes roaming up and down my slender 5’9″ form. I knew my asscheeks were clearly visible beneath my tight slacks. I hoped he was pleased with what he saw. I was almost sure he was. I know I’m hot. I try not have a big ego about it, but it serves me well. Like this time, with Daryl Grant.
I noticed he hadn’t asked me to call him by his first name, and I liked it. My experience was that when I’ve met someone new and they ask me to call them by their first name, it’s a gesture of false familiarity, implying an intimacy that doesn’t exist. I hated it when people did that. But not this time — this man was Mr. Grant, the visiting executive, and I was just Chris, the subservient secretary. For some reason I thought the distance and formality was important, and needed to be maintained.
We walked out the doors heading for the parking lot since Mr. Grant only had a carry-on bag and no checked luggage. I wanted to look at his crotch, but knew that would be inappropriate, at least at this point. So I contented myself with imagining his large cock, nestled tightly in the briefs I pictured him wearing, the organ shifting slightly as he walked.
We reached the waiting town car, where our driver had been waiting patiently for our return. Unlike me, the driver (a young guy in his twenties) was being paid by the hour, so he didn’t care how long it took us. He got out and started to open the passenger door for Mr. Grant.
“That’s okay,” I said, “I’ll do it.”
“Sure thing,” said the driver and got back in the car.
I opened the door for the executive and he grinned at me.
“Thank you, Chris,” he said as he slid into the backseat of the town car. “Where are you going to sit?”
I tried not to smile.
“Where would you like me?” I asked innocently.
“If you sit back here with me, we can talk about the deal.” he said.
“Great.” was my answer. I walked around to the other side of the car and got in, sliding next to Mr. Grant on the comfortable seat.
Reminding the driver of the hotel where the executive was booked to stay at, I also told him we wanted some privacy and pressed the button that made a pane of darkened glass separate the front seat and the back. Did the driver throw me a knowing wink before he turned back around?
I settled back in my seat. It was quite a large space we had, but I didn’t care. This was one man I wouldn’t have minded being in very tight quarters with. He smelled nice, a combination of expensive soap and a tiny hint of flattering cologne.
“Mr. Grant.” I said expectantly.
“Chris.” he answer without hesitation.
There was a moment of silence where we just looked at each other, savoring each other’s appearance and presence.
“You wanted to talk about the deal.” I reminded him finally.
“Right!” he said suddenly. “Well, if this deal works out, I think both our firms will benefit greatly.”
“My superiors certainly think so.” I said.
“Do you think so?” he asked me.
“Me?” I said, surprised, “I’m just a secretary, Mr. Grant.”
“Don’t underestimate yourself, Chris.” he said. “You’ve got a brain, a sharp one I’d guess. What do you think about the deal?”
I realized suddenly that he had moved closer to me, sliding on the leather seat until his knee was almost touching mine. Between my legs, my cock, which had softened during the ride to the car, reawakened. The visiting executive’s heady presence was turning me on greatly. I tried to focus my attention — what had he said? What do you think about the deal?, that was it.
“I think the basic idea is good,” I said, not believing that I was talking about a business deal with a visiting client that was so hot I could hardly concentrate. “But some of the details could be finessed. There’s more to be gained here than my bosses seem to realize.”
“Be specific,” Mr. Grant said, as his hand moved to my leg and rested there. Feeling his touch was wonderful, even through a layer of fabric. I told him my ideas about the deal, and as I did I gently took his other hand in mine and brought it to my crotch. His fingers brushed against my erect cock, which was straining inside my boxers, begging for attention.
“Those are fantastic ideas.” he said, “and you haven’t told your boss any of them?”
“No, of course not.” I said as Mr. Grant stroked my dick through my pants. It was so surreal to be discussing one thing and doing something entirely different, like loosening his tie and unbuttoning the top few buttons of his shirt. “I’m just a secretary.”
The executive took my face with the hand that wasn’t between my legs, gently. “I’m sure you’re much more than that, Chris,” he said, and kissed me. His mouth was firm and strong, his tongue soft but insistent. My arousal was enflamed and I pulled his shirt out from his pants so I could slide my hands under it to feel the hairless planes of his chest.
The kiss ended, much too soon, and we just sat there for a moment, our hands feeling each other, looking into the other’s eyes.
“So you’re here to take care of my needs.” he said finally.
“That’s right.” I said. “I’ve been instructed to give you anything you want.”
There was a pause.
Then he said: “You know what I want, Chris?”
“What, Mr. Grant?”
“I want you to suck my cock.” he said.
“It will be my pleasure, sir,” I answered immediately.
The sexy executive leaned back against the seat and unfastened his belt. A few seconds later his expensive pants were unzipped and the briefs beneath were tented high by his dick.
First I touched it through his underwear, feeling the hard, hot meat inside. Then I slid my fingers under the waistband and pulled outwards from his body.
“Ahhh…” I moaned at the sight of his beautiful uncut penis. Even though Mr. Grant’s cock was hard, it hadn’t fully emerged from its foreskin yet. Its pink head looked delicious, and I took it in my mouth. The executive let out a moan of pleasure as I gently massaged his cockhead with my tongue. I swirled it around the knob of hard, warm flesh, wanting to make Mr. Grant feel as wonderful as he made me, as hot and sexy and desirable.
I wondered briefly if the driver had figured out what we were doing back there. It didn’t matter. I moved my head downward, taking more and more of his thick shaft down my throat until the head hit the back of my mouth.