I took a deep breath and looked up at the clock again.
It was a quarter to noon, which meant Mr. McIntyre was- the thought made me pause. He was in his “meeting.” He was in his hotel room at that very moment. He was doing things, things that made me bite my lip just thinking about them. How was I supposed to work? How was I supposed to act like nothing was going on? At that very moment at the Pierre Hotel, he was fucking her.
I wondered if they were already naked. Did he take his socks off? Did he make noise?
“Want to go to lunch with us Abigail?” a high pitched voice said, pulling me out of my daydreams.
It was Paula and Regina, secretaries of two of the other partners. Nice girls, but I was far too nervous that someone would call, that something might happen. I had to guard
“Oh, no thanks, I brought my lunch,” I lied.
They shrugged and giggled to each other. Whispering some little joke. Who cared what they thought. Paula had a nose like a pig, and her boss was that drunk Mr. Grifford. Regina was sweet enough, but she wasn’t very bright.
A moment after thinking those things the guilt swirled inside of my belly. They were nice girls, and they were trying to be friendly. I was the weird one, pining for her boss.
The phone rang, and I took a deep breath before I picked it up.
“The Fitzgerald Group, Jacob McIntyre’s office.”
Silence on the line. A long feminine sigh, then more silence.
“Mr. McIntyre’s office, may I help you?” I said, a little louder.
“You’re the secretary, right?” said a slow feminine and somewhat snooty voice.
I knew it was her. I had never heard her voice, but I knew it was the girl at the hotel. My heart started racing again. One of his secrets had come to life with a real voice, talking to me.
“Y-yes. This is Abigail. How can I help you?”
There was a low chuckle.
“He’s not in, is he?” her voice was velvet. It made me jealous.
“N-no. May I ask who’s calling?”
There was a long pause.
“You know who’s calling. Something has come up, and I’m not going to be able to make my appointment, and I don’t have the hotel’s number handy.”
Her name was Marcy Peterson, and she was the twenty-something daughter of a client. She was a spoiled brat.
“I’ll um, I’ll find Mr. McIntyre and let him know-Ms. Peterson,” my voice lowering to a whisper.
There was another haughty chuckle.
“My, but you are the good secretary,” her honey sarcastic tone purred with the trappings of a rich Connecticut accent.
“I suppose you schedule all of Mr. McIntyre’s affairs.”
I tried to stifle it, but I just sort of let out a little meep. What could you say to that? Secrets are supposed to be secret. Notes in the calendar. Instructions from Mr. McIntyre. They aren’t supposed to call.
“I-I’ll let him know, Ma’am.”
“How old are you, Abby isn’t it?”
I should have just hung up. Would that have been rude? People walked by my desk, and I wondered what they thought. I was holding on to the phone with both hands. I tried to calm down. I put one hand on the desk. Tried to act like this was just another phone call.
“Interesting,” she said, and the word was stretched long and full of intents I couldn’t figure out.
“From your voice, I would have said twenty at most. Is it embarrassing knowing where your boss goes at lunch? He told me once you were very trustworthy and obedient to the last. It made you sound like a puppy.”
My mouth opened, but no words came out. He talked to her about me? What exactly did he say? He actually sat there with his mistress and said, “That Abigail is an obedient secretary?”
“I try my best,” I squeaked.
There was another low chuckle and then she hung up. I numbly dialed the hotel.
“Mr. Chambers, room 732, please.”
It rang several times. My heart couldn’t take the wait. It seemed like my heart would never slow down.
“Yes?” his slow deep voice.
“Um, it’s um- your 11:30 appointment had to cancel, sir.”
“She called the office?” he sounded concerned.
“That’s-” he trailed off, “I’ll be back in the office in fifteen minutes.”
The moment he disconnected I rushed into his office, straighten things up. I made sure everything was set for his next meeting. I made sure his notes were in order and that the ice bucket was full.
Standing in his office with the door closed the tension of the morning finally got to me. He would be back any minute. I saw myself in his mirror, my cheeks were bright red, and my forehead was damp. Without really knowing why I found myself pulling up my skirt and reaching down my panties. I was soaked through and through. How do I let myself get this worked up?
With one hand on his desk and one hand in the tight constraints of my panties, I found that little point that needed to be touched. Fast fast. He might come back at any minute. I moved fast, waiting for his footsteps in the hallway. I pictured those gray-blue eyes, that chiseled chin, those huge hands. I bet his hands were twice the size of mine. His fingers were twice as thick. I thought of his thick fingers, and I pushed two of mine into myself.
I bet his cock was thick too. So thick it would hurt. I would take it though. I’d take anything from him.
Rubbing and rubbing, but I was quiet as a mouse, just like I would be quiet if he needed me to come into his office. I wouldn’t say a word if he bent me over his desk. I’d be his. His anything. I’d never cancel.
My fist pounded once on his hardwood desk as I came and came.
Breath Abigail, breath.
I went to the bathroom. I didn’t look up at anyone. I washed my hands and fixed my lipstick.
I got back to my desk just as he got in.
“Abby, I’m going to need some lunch. Turkey club,” he stopped, examining me as he got to his door.
“You look a little flushed, is everything alright?”
I squirmed under his gaze. He looked me over with his brilliant eyes. I wondered what exactly he saw.
“Oh, I’m fine, sir,” I laugh awkwardly.
“Two turkey clubs. You look like you need some lunch too,” he said with a smile.
It was the best sandwich I’d ever eaten in my entire life.