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The Conference by Magnus (mf)
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
THE CONFERENCE
by Magnus
The last thing David wanted on a Monday morning was a full-blown
planning conference. The week-end had hardly been successful in any
respect: Saturday had been shopping and housework; the sultry brunette
from Human Resources he'd taken out on Saturday night turned out to be a
dedicated no-sex-outside-marriage professonal virgin. Sunday was lunch
at his sister's place for her Irish mother-in-law's birthday. There'd
been lots of booze, and the celebrations went on till around midnight,
so... the last thing David wanted this was a full-blown planning
conference.
But he had no choice. There was old Barnes, putting everyone to sleep
with his preliminary pep talk, a grey-suited sycophant from Financial
Resources nodding at every trite phrase, the union man from Production
Resources waitng for the drop of any socially incorrect utterances.
And the Bitch Goddess from Marketing Resources: Rhonda Macbeth, called
Macbitch (but never to her face). Tall, dark haired, a classically
beautiful face, an even more classically perfect figure - and an air about
her which made large dogs cringe and larger men tremble.
Rhonda Macbitch, the only non-ugly woman David had never been able to work
into a fantasy, was now sitting across the table from him. Even Eudora
Rowbotham from Greenhouse and Methane Resources, in her regulation khaki
boilersuit and short hair, had a butchy sexiness about her.
Rhonda was wearing a stern business suit which did not hide the curves of
her breasts. but try as he might he could not see her naked.
She looked at him, her eyes narrowing and mouth drooping almost
imperceptibly but enough to let him know she'd caught him staring at her.
Bugger her, David thought, she's not going to boss me around with her
Medusa's gaze..
He kept staring, rewarded at last when she took a deep breath which made
her chest press more tightly against her clothes, and for a moment there
was a vision of lush, smooth breasts spilling out as a brassiere was
removed showing long dark nipples begging to be sucked. There was a
stirring in his groin.
McManus from Planning Resources was talking. "We need a maximising
strategy aimed at achieving the full potential of our resources."
"We need to examine the effects of downward reductions in financial
resources," said the grey suit from Financial Resources.
"But what does this do for the social aspirations of our people in
Production Resources?" said the union man.
"And we have to consider the implications for our Greenhouse and Methane
Control resources policy," said Eudora Rowbotham.
David had no idea what they were talking about. He moved his eyes from
Rhonda's chest to the papers in front of him, trying to find a clue in
case he was asked his opinion. The papers were a thick pile of reports,
discussion papers and position statements from the various resource
departments.
Too complicated, decided David. There should be a Resource Resources
group to manage the whole lot...
"And what does Design Resources have to recommend?" he heard Barnes say.
Shit, that's me, thought David, and before he could stop himself he said
"I think its too complicated. We should have a Resource Resources group
to oversee the whole operation."
The finance person began to sneer, but the sneer changed to a smile and
a vehement nod of the head when Barnes said: "Excellent suggestion! Make
sure that goes into the minutes."
David was beginning to relax and sit back, hoping that this brilliant
contribution would suffice for the morning, when he felt something
brushingg lightly against his ankle.
He resisted the temptation to look under the table, but it did not take
him long to realise that it was somebody's shoeless foot. He looked
around: the union bloke on one side of him and Youngblood from Structural
Resources were at the wrong angle.
Diagonally across the tale, on his right, was Eudora, but she had her
chair chair pushed back and was too far away. That left Rhonda Macbeth.
It must be her foot, moving upwards, now stroking gently on his calf.
He looked across at her, but she was staring at Barnes who was saying
something about "realstic prognostications, especially about the future".
Her body was still, giving no sign of the activity under the table.
What was she doing? Was she trying to trick him into some stupid
self-destructive act, or was she just bored, looking for a diversion?
Was he supposed to reciprocate?
Whatever, the foot was making its way along his thigh, and it was
starting to feel very pleasant. Then David became aware that everyone
except Rhonda
was looking at him, and that he was expected to say
something about some plan or another.
"Well, er, um," he began. His next words came in a rush as a toe poked
at his penis. "I think we should keep both feet on the ground."
"Good, good", said Barnes. "A conservative approach which wants to
retain the status quo. Very refreshing from our young design person."
David's penis, now hard and fully erect, received a hard rub.
"On the contrary," said Rhonda Macbeth in a loud voice. "Now more than
ever should we be prepared to step out and upwards!"
"Yes, yes," said Barnes. "So good to have some argument, especially when
there are conflicting views."
David managed to get one shoe off, and wasted no time finding Rhonda's
knee and working his way along her stockinged thigh.
Now her toe was rubbing him, smoothly and regularly, and familiar waves of
pleasure started flowing through his body. He hoped that no-one would
notice. She was certainly controlling herself, giving no sign that
anything unusual was happening.
"The question now is," said Barnes, "What approach should we take?"
Nobody said anything. David felt he should speak. "I think we should
take the bull by the horn..."
"Yes, yes", said Rhona. Was her voice a bit shaky? "Quickly, get to the
crux of the matter."
David's big toe found Rhonda's entrance. He was glad he'd cut his
toenailss that morning. Even through his sock and her panties he could
feel wetness as he explored and probed.
The discussion went on. David became totally immersed in the sensations
coming from his groin. Their toes were working together, faster and
faster. He was finding it hard to control his breathing.
Rhonda's face still showed no emotion. David knew he would climax soon,
but could he hide it? Then he had an idea, and started to let it happen.
"I'm coming"~, Rhonda said suddenly. "I'm coming - to see the point of
all this -"
David felt his orgasm begin - and he pretended to sneeze, just as his
fluidss came rushing out into his underpants.
And as he sneezed, so too did Rhonda: three hearty sneezes then a series
of little ones.
"Must be the air-conditioning", said Barnes. "Get someone from Building
Resourrces to look into it. And I think that just about finishes this
meeting."
David remained seated while the others left, wondering if the mess would
show through his trousers. He sought Rhonda's eyes, to smile at her. but
the McBitch look was firmly in place and he thought better of it.
Next conference, he promised himself...
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