Sex Delivered Hot (Workplace Harassment #1)

Sex Delivered Hot

Workplace Harassment #1

Sophie Sin

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2013 Lunatic Ink
Publishing

Editor's Message:

All participants like, enjoy and consent to all
sexual activity. Everyone is over 18.

Teddy Bear

"THAT DIRTY WENCH!"

His fist hits the steel side of one of the
marked courier vans that are parked in haphazard lines from the far
fence of the large compound to the big side of the brick warehouse
in the distance.

"Fuck..." the large man of wide shoulders and
angry stance cries as a resounding ringing sound flows through the
steel of the vehicle next to him.

He grasps his pained hand that is throbbing
with a heat that promises bruises on the fat, scarred side of
it.

Ted stands there silently, huge body bent over,
his muscles tensing and contracting as he grits his slightly too
white teeth and waits for the hurt to subside. The rain flitters
down from gray gloss skies that have been pouring down tears from
heaven since the early morning when he swaggered through the large
front gates of the compound at just after 5am.

"I-am-going-to-kill-that-whore," he growls out
finally through his hard closed teeth.

The man straightens. Ted is quite tall at just
over 6 foot and has an athletic slim frame with massive legs and a
wide v-shaped back that is the apple of many a lady down at the
local pub's eye. He clenches his good first and thumps it to his
soggy courier blue shirt with its white insignia on the left hand
side shoulder. This is a man enraged. But why?

Eric The Arrow

Eric is one slick customer. He slides among the
packages with the grace of a man of long forgotten footballer fame.
His long slim legs and hard stomach bristle and move as he stops in
front of a box and slaps a packing slip on it with his long
fingers, each with immaculately cut and pruned nails and small
scars here and there from the times when he wasn't so graceful and
needed to show his real nature to 'fix' an issue with another
man.

"E-R-I-C!"

He spins and bows a little with an amused smile
forming and disappearing on his lips.

"Yes, my lady."

The young women from Florida who just joined
the small family run business gives him a pissed look.

"Stop being a cock. Get up here!"

Eric's shoulders tense slightly at her tone,
but he is up next to her on the long gray railing that runs around
the large warehouse where the parcels and packages from all over
America are distributed to vans to be moved to the residents of the
small city where this story of wicked betrayal is
happening.

"What can I do for you?" he asks her, pulling
out a small touch pad and knocking in numbers as he
waits.

"What can you do for me?" she asks snarkily.
"How about working the next fucking 12 hours straight for me? You
think you are up to that, you tall fuck?"

Eric tenses and his left eye curves around the
deep exotic brown of his iris in what could be a very good
imitation of a tiger's eyes just before the beast surges forward
and tears its prey to pieces.

"I'm glad you noticed my height. So was that
all?"

He turns his back to her and starts slithering
away.

"Where do you think you are going?"

"To work. I thought that was what you are
paying me to do?"

"Listen, punk. I came here straight from Miami
and I know what you clowns are like. You are probably going to
smoke some FUCKING WEED and then piss around for a few
hours."

Sally starts pacing, her short slim legs moving
with heavy clods on the intertwined framework of the metal grating
that they are standing on.

"I know all about your kind, Eric.
Lazy-stupid-can't work for themselves-idiots one and all. Do you
think I don't know?"

Eric raises an eyebrow. He wonders if she
really does know. If she did then she - a mere female - might
consider her position a little more carefully. You don't insult the
wolf and expect him not to bite. That's a fool’s gamble. He thinks
she is probably a fool, so it is in character.

"What do you know, boss? Educate
me."

She stops seeing something in those brown eyes
of his: It's a challenge. He thinks he's so tough with that big
body of his. Sally has seen men, tall, handsome, strong, but flawed
like him. He doesn't think she knows how to handle a tall piece of
shit like him. Well, this one has a thing coming. He hasn't seen
anything yet.

"Are you sassing me?" she shouts at
him.

He looks her over. Just who is sassing who
here?

She strides forward and pokes her finger into
his strong chest. The poke is good, but the finger bends against
the flesh. Eric doesn't even wince.

"You have been stealing packages."

That comes as a surprise. If there is something
that Eric isn't doing it is stealing the worthless junk that
America seems to be obsessed with sending each other.

"Someone is telling you lies, boss. Perhaps you
should reconsult your sources."

"Don't avoid me, fucker. Jenny told me all
about you."

"Really?" he asks sounding slightly
surprise.

Sally stops and watches the guy. Why is he
smiling that half-cocked smile in this situation? She has him
red-handed.

"Yes. Now come to the office and I'll have you
out of here."

Eric doesn't move.

"Do you have proof?"

"Well..."

"Exactly. Go get proof, little manager. Come
back to me when you can pin something that sticks."

He walks away. Sally tenses her fists. That
woman didn't give her any proof; she didn't think she would need
it.

"I'll get you, Eric Chompton. You just
wait!"

He doesn't look back. The wolf is stalking. A
young red head is going to pay and pay good.

Jenny The Nark

"Biitttccchhh..." he snarls in her face, saliva
pummeling down on her skin as he stares down into her
eyes.

They are in a small area of the compound. There
are several large containers, made of rusting steel, where the
company stores old sacks and bits and pieces that no one has a use
for but nobody can decide whether they need to be thrown away or
not.

His hand closes on her neck. Those long fingers
that have often found purchase there during their intimate moments
(if what they do could be considered intimate) squeeze inwards,
cutting off air and stressing the tendons inside so that they close
and restrict the air from flowing.

The hard steel of the wall pushes into her
uniform and into her spine. She can feel the many grooves of its
rusted surface pressing in on odd angles here and there and causing
her stiffness and hurt where they do. The rust is peeling off and
will no doubt be staining her top. It feels odd to be choking (and
so used to it by now) while worrying about her clothing.

His hand comes away and slaps across her cheek.
She jerks forward as her knees give way and her body slips to the
floor so that she is kneeling under his huge hunched frame. She
gasps for air with wide eyes and stares at the sack strewn floor
below her. She knew that this was coming. It was only a question of
when.

"Tell me why you did this to me and I might be
lenient with you."

He unbuckles his slim belt at the silver belt
buckle and slowly slides it out, loop by loop, until it is hanging
low down by his side, gripping in a hand that's artistically flared
fingers have caressed her more often than hurt. The long length of
leather glitters in the faint light given off from the dust covered
light bulb above. He is going to hurt her this time; she just knows
it.

"You've been fucking other girls," she jerks
out, her chest wrenching upwards as a tear slips down her
cheek.

He tilts his head slightly. There is silence
between them.

"I see and that was why you told that fool that
little lie of yours?"

She nods her head.

"I don't ever want to see you again." He stands
there looking at her. In him there was anger, but that has cooled.
This fool has accused him of something she cannot prove. He could
just let it go, but that would not teach the toy who her master
really is. "You will go to the supervisor and tell her the truth.
You will tell her that it was you who is stealing and that you will
take your punishment immediately."

"NO! I'll be fired."

He waits and watches.

"Of course, you will. The fool has a strong
rage in her. She will have your head and everything with
it."

"Eric, you can't do this to me. If I go to her
it is all over. I can't see you anymore."

"So? You are nothing to me anyway as you
are."

"What? How could you say that?"

"Well, why would I want a woman that is as weak
as you? Didn't you see how much more attention I paid you than the
others? Did you think that you could capture my eye with just a
little play? I don't need a woman that won't go all the
way."

"But I can be that woman, Eric. Just
listen."

He turns from her and starts towards the
door.

"Please, Eric. I can really do this. I can be
the type of woman that you need. Just let me try; just let me prove
myself."

If she could see the look on his face, she
would think twice about that statement. What Eric truly wants is
something that no woman could really possibly give.

"You say such pretty things, but do you have
anything in that head of yours to back it up?"

He turns and walks over to her, grasping her
jaw and pulling her tear strained face upwards into the
light.

"Do you have what it takes to be my
woman?"

She closes her eyes and whispers, begs, that
she does.

"Then take off all of your clothing and give it
to me."

She stands slowly, determination in her stance
betrayed only by the firm press of her left knee to the
right.

"I will do this. I will make you
mine."

"Many have said; few have done."

She reaches up and pulls her reddish, pink
t-shirt over her head to reveal a pearl white bra that holds her
substantial breasts in place as she makes her deliveries. Her hand
comes back and two dark pink manicured stubby fingernails unhitch
the bra to reveal her rosy red nipples as it drops to the sack
flooring. The next to go is her jeans, which she has to shimmy out
of as she kicks away her sneakers. They are blue and faded, but
serviceable enough. She kicks them over on top of her t-shirt and
reaches for her panties.

"Slowly and from behind. I want to see you
bend."

She turns obediently and reaches for the waist
band where it runs around her hip. The panties are a dull blue. She
wasn't thinking that today might involve some sex, so didn't color
coordinate. Considering what she told Jenny the day before in her
office after seeing Eric with that tramp in the lunch room, she
really should have seen this coming.

Her panties slowly slip downwards over the
rounded rear puffs of her buttocks. Her body is not in any way
symmetrical like a normal woman's might be. Jenny has always been a
top heavy girl with round hips more woman than girls. They used to
call her Melons at school until the boys started to recognize that
melons are a very good thing then they just called her Easy Jenny
(even though she was definitely not easy).

Her panties slip down under her browned asshole
and past the smooth wet lips of her pussy. Her clit is standing out
as she bends forward towards the steel wall and looks back between
her wide open legs to watch as Eric inspects her body like a hawk
inspecting some poor field mouse that has become its dinner for the
evening.

"Do you like what you see, Eric?"

He grunts and signals for her to drop her
panties further. She leans down slowly, her breasts slipping in
front of her face so that she can no longer see him, as she travels
past her knees to her slim calves and down past her knobby ankles
to her feet that have seen too much time in closed work
shoes.