Mr. Bigcock - by Kirsten Monroe

My first email of the day was from Mr. Bigshot Naughtypants. "Send me a shot under your desk."



I texted him a cell pic of the tangle of dusty wires down there. Under my desk.



He pouted hopefully when I delivered a report. On my way out, I dropped a pencil. "Oops," I said, turning sideways and bending over to retrieve it, showing off my ass to his polished cherry bookshelf. "Clumsy me."



Then I couldn't stop thinking about Mr. Bigcock under his desk. I spread my legs and held my cell there, capturing the lacy pink satin bowed light particles gartering for attention. "Send."



When Mr. Naughtypants flipped me a message to report immediately for an unscheduled noon meeting, I simply had to decline. "Booked, checking schedule," I replied.



In the ladies room after lunch with the girls, I posed in the stall for a quick pic of my sticky skully bum. "Sorry. Booked all day. Any openings tomorrow?"



Oh, Mr. Bighead was pissed for days after that. Not my boss. Not my problem. He asked for a shot & that's what I gave him. He wasn't my type anyway and just knowing that he'd seen my pink satin and wanted more. That was enough. Should have been enough.



The next week, during the quarterly executive assistant leadership gathering to address the redesign of the employee break room & fitness center rules and operations manual, our all-female team determined that it would be most productive to fuck all the bullshit and focus instead on the next chick's night out. The estrogen levels in the room rose to radioactive levels and things got a bit out of hand.



The gamma rays and girl talk must have gone to my head and somehow it just slipped out about Mr. Naughtypants and his greedy libido. Marsha fumed. "Bastard! He asked me for titty pictures and tried to get me to come in on a Saturday to work on his spreadsheets."



Lisa was doubly steamed. "I did come in on Saturday to work on his spreadsheets."



"Well?" I pressed.



"Nothing. Fucker just wanted to watch me work naked."



"He needs to be taught a lesson, that Mr. Stingydick."



"He's so handsome and sexy in his expensive silk suits, too. He's got charisma. What's his deal?"



"Maybe he's afraid of us."



Ellen laid down the whip.



"I think he needs to feel the power on the other side of the desk. Hey Andrea -- dare you to wear a strap-on to the vice president's meeting and give him a little bump."



I was feeling catty, but really! Wear a strap-on to the veeps meeting? Hello Kitty! Going a bit far, dontya think?



"Why don't you sport a knobby there Ellen? Your idea."



"Because I have to run the equipment – I'm the powerpoint mistress, miss garter belt & stockings under-the-desk photo queen."



I looked around the room and felt a bit woozy. All the pretty girls were looking at me so sweetly and pertly, their lips saying, "Please! It will be fun! It's up to you to give us something to put some color and flash into this little shit brown cubicle of a life."



"Maybe. We'll have to practice. I'm not going in cold. And we'll also have to go shopping. I have the perfect outfit – just need to find the right dildo for the skirt – it needs to be flexible and not too big – can't go walking into the boardroom with an elephant trunk between my legs."