The Wererock - Chapter 7 – Part 1 of 2 – Office Visit

The Wererock

By Guest Writer:  Mike

Chapter 7 – Part 1 of 2 – Office Visit

“Good morning,” I said, kissing the top of Cynthia’s head.

“Coffee.”

I kissed her again, “I’ll get it.” She mumbled something and when I got out of bed she rolled into the warm hole by body made in the bed. I went into the kitchen and after a few minutes of opening and closing cabinets I finally found the ingredients necessary to brew her morning cup of joe. The kitchen took on the strong smell off the coffee as I gathered up a tray. I took a clear, plastic measuring cup from the cabinet next to the refrigerator and filled it with milk. I put the milk and sugar on the tray with a single spoon. With the coffee finished I carried all of it back into the bedroom.

“Honey,” I whispered, shaking her naked shoulder. “Coffee.”

She stirred, stretched and then sat up, the comforter falling from her shoulders. She made no move to cover up. I stood there, offering her the tray just as uncovered. She took the coffee cup from the tray, “black, no sugar. Good coffee doesn’t need sugar.” She took a sip, made a face and then reached for the tray. “This isn’t good coffee.” She smiled at me, “Don’t worry. I’ll teach you how to make it.”

“Yes, Mistress.” I joked.

“Oh, I like the sound of that.” She added some sugar and milk to her cup. Satisfied, she took another sip.  “Thank you for this,” she said. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too, but I have to run home to get ready for work.”

“What time is it.” I told her and that put a fire under her. She took another sip of coffee, set the cup on her nightstand, and hopped out of bed. She looked good naked and I told her so. “Stop it,” she teased, sounding like she didn’t really want me to stop. “I have to get ready for work.” She looked at me, “Are you serious about that job?”

I was. “I am.”

“Can I come by at lunchtime?”

We made plans for her to visit during her lunch break. “I’ll have lunch waiting for you.”

I left the house, leaving the Wererock on the coffee table where Cynthia had set it the night before. It was hers, after all. That thought was still confusing but I no longer gave it any serious consideration. If she was mine and the rock was hers then the rock was mine. It was simple math. That thought brought a smile to my face; Cynthia was mine. I felt that just as strongly this morning as I had falling asleep the night before.

I raced home, took a quick shower, and as I was getting dressed my phone beeped. Panties from now on. You’re my girl and my girl wears pretty underwear. Always. She followed the text with an emoji heart.

It was kinky and fun and I obeyed. I opened my dresser and pulled out a pair of light blue panties. They were soft and pale and they didn’t exactly hold me in place but at least they fit around the hips. Cynthia was a few sizes smaller than I was and her panties were overly snug. I finished getting dressed and then went to work. Carley was already there; she seldom beat me to work. “Late night?” She asked, handing me a cup of coffee.

I simply smiled. I sat at the desk and got quite a bit of work done. I poured over two new contracts and sent them to the printer. Carley would get them ready to be signed. I made half a dozen phone calls and by the time I needed to get lunch for Cynthia, I had made deals that would bring on three additional jobs. It was getting to the point where I’d have to authorize a bunch of overtime. Business was good; I really needed a new programmer on staff.

I went to the same deli from the day before. I ordered two salads both topped with grilled chicken. I wasn’t sure what type of dressing Cynthia would like so I had them give me blue cheese, French, Italian, lite-vinaigrette, Caesar and thousand island. I bought two bottles of water as well; I had coffee at the office but was it good coffee. Remembering Cynthia’s promise to teach me how she wanted it brought a smile to my face. She was planning on keeping me. How could I not smile at that?

Cynthia was parking her car at the same time I was walking across the parking lot. I greeted her with a kiss and then led her to the elevator. She took the water from me and I carried the salads. She was wearing a black and white striped skirt and a solid black buttoned downed blouse, the sleeves ending half way between her elbow and her wrist. She had used the Wererock to fill out her chest; her chest looked great. She was wearing tall, black heels with four thick, black straps over the foot with an additional strap encircling her ankle. Her hair was pulled up into that abrupt pony tail she had been wearing the first time we met. She looked beautiful; she smiled when I told her so.

Approaching my office, I introduced Cynthia to Carley. Cynthia stopped to talk to Carley as I set out the salads on my desk. I could hear them talking just outside my office door. “Oh, how far along are you?”

“Seven months,” Carley said. “He’ll be here in no time.”

“Your first?”

“Yeah.” Even from my office I could hear the joy in Carley’s voice. They chatted for a few moments more, Carley telling Cynthia about the baby and how she was looking forward to being a stay-at-home mom. Cynthia was quite supportive and I found her to be charming and warm. It was nice to see; she was an amazing woman.

Cynthia came into my office, shutting the door behind her. Cynthia took a seat in my chair leaving me to sit opposite her. She looked good sitting there in her black blouse. She looked like she belonged there. We ate and chatted about the job. I showed her the test and she passed it with flying colors, as the old saying goes. I offered her the job on the spot.

“I need to think about it. What will your staff say; I’m sleeping with the boss.”

I pointed to the test. “That test proves your qualified. I’d offer you the job even if you weren’t ‘sleeping with the boss’.”

“I’ll think about it,” she repeated, leaning back to throw her feet on my desk. She looked quite lovely and a bit regal. “I think I’d rather be the boss.” She pointed at the closed door, “Fetch me a cup of coffee.” She followed that with a laugh. I laughed with her but rose from my chair. “Stop. I was being silly.”

We finished lunch with Cynthia promising she would consider my offer. I had her write down her email address, promising her an official offer letter before the end of the week.

After the serious conversation, we started talking about the stone. “It’s my turn,” she said, fishing the rock out of her bra. She set it on my desk.  “I set up a game for you. I want you to set one up for me.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Something embarrassing.” Her voice went low, “It turns me on. Please.” I barely heard that last word. Was she afraid I would think less of her because she could admit what turned her on? I found that sexy as hell.

I gave the matter some thought, discarding some scenarios as too risky without me being there to get her out of trouble. When I had started playing with the stone, I didn’t give a single thought to my safety, now, all I could think about what keeping Cynthia safe. A grin appeared. I picked up the stone and had her take my hand, trapping the cold nugget between us. A moment later I slipped the Wererock into my pants pocket. “That should do.” I was smiling a Cheshire grin.

“What did you do?”

“Something embarrassing; it should start the second you get to your car. Call me if it becomes too much so I can hear all about it.” I was all smiles thinking of what she was about to endure. I felt a little sad that I wouldn’t be there to witness it.

She stuck her tongue out making me laugh. “I guess I don’t have to go back to work today,” she taunted. “I’ll just stay here with you.”

“What, and ruin your fun?”

“Good point!” She helped clean up our lunch and with a passionate kiss she left my office and a second later Carley strolled in.

“You didn’t tell me you had a girlfriend. Good for you.”

I tried to stammer out a rebuttal but couldn’t get the words out. There was no denying the connection Cynthia and I shared. I’m sure our relationship had been escalated by the magical stone in my pocket and that connection was palpable. Carley had spotted it right off. “Is she going to be my replacement?” Carley teased.

“Actually, I want to hire her as a programmer.” I gave Carley the test Cynthia had passed with ease. “Can you work up a standard employment package for her, please.”

“Sure thing, boss, but you’re playing with fire.”

I knew what she meant; workplace romances had a way to end ugly. But that was assuming they ended. I refused to go into this relationship with Cynthia thinking there was an end date. I was shooing for a long-term relationship; I wasn’t going to sabotage that by assuming it would end at some distant time. I was going to work to keep this relationship going forever. I wasn’t thinking marriage yet; that came later.

Carley returned to her desk and I returned to mine. I could still see Cynthia sitting in my chair, her legs up, her sexy black heels resting on the warm wood. She had looked like she belonged. I put my feet up on the desk. My heels were still in my car next to my purse. I still haven’t gotten used to the idea that I needed to keep my purse with me. I felt the stone in my pocket; I could compel myself to carry it but the thought that Cynthia should make that happen was too strong. No, my purse and heels were just fine sitting in my Lexus.

I wondered how Cynthia was getting on. Had she figured out what I had done to her? I was looking forward to hearing all about it. That afternoon I got very little work done, picturing Cynthia struggling with the scenario I’d forced her into. I was aroused just thinking about it. I would have to go find her; just to see what she was doing to cope with what I’d done.  One thing that was certain, she was going to be embarrassed.

Carley emailed me the employee contract for Cynthia. I looked at the starting salary; was it more or less than she was currently making? Before I sent it to her it was something I was going to have to ask even though money wasn’t something I was all that worried about, I didn’t know Cynthia’s financial situation and I was sure we hadn’t been dating long enough for me to ask. I guess we’d have to have that conversation before I could make the offer official.

I finished my work day and left the office, walking next to Carley. I wished her a good night and then she gave me a chuckle, “I bet I know who you’re off to see.”

See was right. If things went as expected, I’d be seeing quite a bit of Cynthia. Almost too much. At least in public. The thought brought a smile to my face and that smile answered Carley’s unasked question.

“See you tomorrow, Carley.”

“You too Mr. Orlinski.” She gave me a mock salute causing me to shake my head.

Where are you? I texted Cynthia.

The mall. Came her quick reply. I’m shopping for something tiny. But you knew that, didn’t you?

See you soon, was my reply. I drove to the mall closest to Cynthia’s office. We have two malls in town, one the outdoor mall where Cynthia and I met and the other called The Center of Town mall. Cynthia worked closer to The Center of Town mall. I drove there, skirting past a small strip of shops spearheaded by our local Best Buy, Target and a Toys-R-Us. I kept driving and pulled into the mall parking lot. Cynthia was somewhere inside, wearing, well, I didn’t know what she was wearing but I knew it was small. Tiny was the word she had used.

I was in no rush as I walked through the mall past all the busy shops. Cynthia would show up in time; the commotion would give it away. I was not disappointed. I heard a gasp followed by a couple of people applauding. The mall was basically a large letter Y with the food court positioned in the center. I was ambling past a Sbarro when I heard the excitement followed by the whistles and a few muttered curses. Cynthia was near and if the reaction I heard gave anything away, then she was gushing wet in arousal.

I approached the noises and caterwauls and spotted Cynthia. She was hard to miss. She was wearing a black micro-mini skirt that left the lower third of her ass exposed. She was wearing a simple tube top with the caption “Just Do Me” that barely covered her breasts and by the way they bounced I knew they weren’t protected by a bra. Her head was hung low and from where I was standing I could see a faint flush on her cleavage. She rushed into a store that sold ridiculously tiny outfits. Cynthia’s hands were clenched into fists and when she entered the store I saw her reach up to scratch her boobs. The purse slung over her shoulder concealed nothing more than a flash of her hip.

I stood outside the store, peering in at the display Cynthia was putting on. She reached under her skirt to scratch her ass in the back and then her thighs in the front. She rubbed her boobs and half her chest. Her hands came behind her to scratch part of her back. She looked embarrassed and uncomfortable. Her nipples were as hard as arctic ice.

Cynthia browsed a round, silver display rack of belts and scarves. She selected a piece of leather that looked even smaller than that strip of fabric she was wearing. She raced to the back of the store, her breasts spilling out of her loose top. I watched the store for ten minutes, never seeing Cynthia emerge from the changing room. More and more time ticked past. I considered going to see her when I finally saw her come out of the store.

Cynthia was blushing, her cheeks as red as any I’d ever seen. The top she was wearing wasn’t really a top. It was more like a simple belt, worn over her nipples, leaving most of her tits exposed. She had rolled the waistband of her skirt inward, shortening that miniskirt to be barely more than a flimsy, flouncy piece of cloth. She was dressed, if you could call it that. Her breasts bounced and jiggled with each step; her skirt flared with each bounce. She was basically topless in the mall with just a thin black strip of leather covering her nipples. Half her ass was exposed and with each step she took I could tell that she wasn’t wearing panties; I could just make out the daring cleft of her wet pussy peeking out from between her thighs. Her outfit was indecent and sexy as hell.

She turned left out of the store and stopped to peer into the hair salon next door. She peered into the glass window for about a minute or two before moving on. She circled the whole mall, going from window to window, peering in at shoppers as the shoppers gawked at her. Some stores she could circumvent; the ones with kids. I had set it up that way. I didn’t want her to get arrested. Just embarrassed.

Some men came up to her and she spoke to them but ultimately sent them on their way. I saw camera flashes, both blatant and surreptitious. Occasionally I saw her lip quiver but she masked her shame well. She continued browsing the mall, going from store to store and window to window. She was like the Pied Piper, trailing behind her was a gaggle of men with their tongues flapping. Some were less obvious than others. When she finished all three wings she strode out of the mall and back to her car. I caught up with her as an old woman was walking past her yelling how she should “be ashamed.” Based on the color of her face, Cynthia certainly was that.

“How was your day?”