Mumbling, he pushed his thumb in his mouth, pulled open a drawer, and pulled out a band-aid. Gingerly applying it, Mike leaned back and glowered at his blank computer screen.

The journalist was in his cubicle at work on the second floor, and was working on an assignment his boss had given him – his new position in the local paper. He had been the top investigative journalist until mere hours ago, but following a screw-up in the handling of a major story, he’d been shuffled down to writing the Sex Advice column under the pseudonym ‘Mr. Smooth’.

The blond man stared blankly at the screen, brow furrowed. He’d never written a sex column before, and had no clue how. Investigative journalism was very, very different. Don’t I have to wait for questions or something? I guess I could just make them up, or maybe-

"Um, excuse me? Are you Mr. Michael McPherson?"

Mike sat up straight, and turned his spinning chair around to face the cubicle opening, where a short, pretty woman stood with an inquiring look on her face, and a set of yellow folders marked "Questions". Mike gave a nod, and said, quietly, a-la-emperor, "I’ve been expecting you."

The woman raised an eyebrow at him, and then got the reference and allowed herself a grin. "I’ve been asked by the boss to deliver these papers to you. They’re apparently vital to this part of the paper, so make sure not to lose them?"

"What, are those the sex questions?"

The brunette blushed, and stuttered, "Uhm… yeah, I guess, technically, they are."

"Brilliant, hand them over."

The woman handed him the files, and as he took them, he glanced up at her face and said, "So, what’s your name?"

"Er, Giselle."

"Nice to meet you Giselle. I’ll see you around, eh?"


And with a swish, the busty young woman was gone from the cubicle, leaving Mike with a pile of questions. Sighing, he booted up the computer, picked up a mug of coffee he had next to the monitor, and braced himself for answering idiotic questions about how to re-invigorate sex life.

    • -

Two hours later, Mike stretched, and stood up. He’d done about twelve questions, enough to fill approximately six columns. But he wasn’t just writing advice, he’d learned in a memo to his company e-mail. He’d be writing a full, sex related page.

"Fuck my life," The 27 year old man muttered, rubbing his shaggy blond beard. "How the hell am I supposed to find that much content?"

Mike stumbled out of his cubicle, and made his way to the company lounge, where there was a tiny café, and a water fountain. Two workers were sitting at a table working on their laptops, and Giselle was at another table, sipping a cup of coffee while sifting through papers.

The muscular blond man made his way to the counter, ordered a cappuccino, and made his way over to Giselle’s table after he’d received it from the seventy-something year old running the booth. Dear God, doesn’t she have anything better to do with her life than serve coffee?

"Hey," Mike intoned as he approached his new acquaintance. "Do you mind if I sit here?"

Giselle glanced up, seemed to recognize him from before, and smiled. "Yeah, go ahead… Mike, was it?"

"Yeah that’s it."

Mike pulled out a seat from the table, sat down and gingerly put the coffee on to the wooden surface. He then blew on his heated-up hands to cool them, and said, "So, Giselle, what do you do at this company?"

"Hmm? Oh, I’m head of the business department." Giselle took a minute to give a winning smile. "Not to sound conceited… but I’m the reason our newspaper is so damn good."

They both worked for a huge company called Hopil inc. which makes product such as cheese, toiletries, and pretty much anything else you could think of. Car parts? Hopil. Baby toys? Hopil. Vastly oversized barbed green dildos? Probably Hopil, and on top of that, it has its own newspaper called "The Hopil Gazette", but most people of the world simply call it "the Gazette".

After all, there was no other.

The Gazette is known for two things- its risqué attitude towards things generally held as "taboo" by many western cultures, and its superb business section which has never yet been wrong. Clearly, he’d just discovered the reason why.

"Holy crap, that’s big," Mike said, raising his eyebrows. "I used to work under Montgomery in investigative journalism as head of investigations. Now I’m running the sex page – kind of a huge drop, eh?"

"Hrmm," The brunette smiled, thinking about it. That woman seemed to not be able to get a smile off her face. "That depends on your sources."

"Er, what?"

"Well, if you get your sources right, the sex page can be a great job," Giselle laughed. "After all, if your sources are… physical experiences, it can be a quite a rewarding job. Or, uh, so I can imagine."

"Are you speaking from experience?"

She seemed surprised, or rather, taken aback by his question, and then laughed and said easily, "That’s for me to know, and you to likely never find out. You don’t need to know about the history of your job – merely the today of it. And right now, I’m guessing you have nothing."

Solemnly, Mike nodded, and then said, "Honestly, I can’t think of anything. To me, Sex is kind of really overrated. It’s not something I’m that interested in – my libido has never been that high."

Giselle’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, and she said, a tone of shock in her voice, "Really?"

"Er, yeah."

"Mike, with that kind of attitude, you’ll never last as the Sex page writer. We need to be risqué, not boring old "Missionary. Herp derp, I don’t even like sex". Be wild! Be free! Be sexually acti-"

"Er, Giselle, do we really need to be having this conversation?"

"Yes," she said decisively. "Do you need help with content?"

"Well, yeah, I d- Hey, wait… Giselle, what’re you offering?"

The curvaceous brunette wiggled her eyebrows at me in a very suggestive manner, as if to say 'really, you ought to know what I’m offering. Are you really that de-sexualised?', but in reality all she said was "You’ll see, Mike. You’ll see."

Giselle finished her coffee, and packed up her papers in a folder. She then fixed the tie on her business suit, and said, "Follow me – I’ve got some content to show you. It’s up in my office though, so if you’re willing to take that long out of your break…"

Mike nodded, and stood up to follow the business woman as she walked towards the stairs out of the lounge to the fourth floor of the building. He chucked his paper coffee cup, and followed her upstairs to a room with a tinted glass door that read "Giselle Evans, Head of Business."

Mike slowly closed the door behind him, and looked in to see two spinning chairs of far superior quality to his own, an ASUS UL80V laptop on her desk, and a large, shaded window looking out on the beaches of San Jose. There didn’t appear to be any kind of security in the room, something that Mike found slightly alarming, but he didn’t mention it to the business head, who seemed to be staring longingly out over the San Francisco bay.

"So, Mike, you’ll need a huge amount of content to maintain the page like this. I suggest the boss did it on purpose to bring you down. You need content…"

"But where do I find-"

"You need content," Giselle interrupted, "like this."

She turned around to face Mike, and he was shocked at what he saw. Giselle had opened her overcoat, and had unbuttoned her shirt as well, leaving the only article of clothing between Mike’s eyes and her tanned chest her small, nearly invisible bra, which held what must have been D breasts. The sex writer blinked as he felt a twinge in his crotch area as his cock began to fill with blood and erect.

"Giselle, what-"

"You said you needed content…" she said as she walked seductively towards him, bringing her face mere inches away from his, her breath smelling sweetly in the air around him, her body odour overwhelming in its gentle and loving touch.

"Er… b… but we only just met…" Mike said, putting up only token resistance. Giselle’s brow furrowed, and she said, "You talk too much, and pulled him in to a full on French kiss, her tongue pressing against his lips begging for entrance so that they could explore the cavern that was his mouth.

And after only a moment, his will power gave way, and he was kissing her back, his mouth opening and allowing her tongue in, as well as invading her mouth with his. His hands ran up her outer thighs, along her ass, and stopped at the top of her ironed pants. His hands ran up the inside of her suit jacket, and gently, he helped her shrug out of it, and draped it on the back of the chair, not breaking off the kiss.

Meanwhile, Giselle’s hands roamed on Mike’s chest, unbuttoning his own jacket, pulling it off, and running her hands along the sides of his torso. She started slowly unbuttoning his shirt, and when she had it fully unbuttoned, pulled it off of his shoulders, leaving him bare-chested except for a tie.

Mike was running his hands along Giselle’s waist, and stopped when he reached near the bottom of her bra. He pushed, along with her help, the shirt off of her shoulders, letting it flutter to the floor. For a moment, he hesitated, wondering what would happen if passer-bys looked in. Then, he decided it didn’t matter – and the panes were frosted anyways.

The blond man pressed his hands against Giselle’s bra, and squeezed her breasts through it. The one hand still groping her boobs, his other hand slid down to her back, and grabbed her ass, squeezing it gently. He gave it a slight slap, and Giselle squeaked. He then brought his hand back up to her bra again.

"Go ahead," she murmured, breaking the kiss. "Take it off."

Clumsily, Mike unclipped Giselle’s bra, and let it too fall to the floor. Now, her tanned breasts were free from their constraints, and her perk, erect nipples were clearly visible. Her hands came up to cup her breasts, and as she pushed herself back in to the kiss, she whispered, "By the way… this is only part of your content. If you come back tomorrow, I’ll have… other things for you."

Mike’s hands came up, and grasped her tits, one in each hand. Suddenly, he broke the kiss, and slowly kissed his way down from her mouth to her neck, and from her neck to her shoulders, and from her shoulders to her boobs. Mike pressed his lips to her left nipple, and then opened his mouth, trying to put as much of her tit in his mouth as he could. His tongue moved around her areola in swirls, arousing sensations that made Giselle literally moan.

Mike’s groin was getting more and more uncomfortable as time went by, as his boner was getting more and more pronounced. There was a clear tent in his pants, and from time to time Giselle would rub against it, making it twitch and send twinges up through his body. Finally, after Giselle decided to grind against him, she noticed this tent, and said, "Oh, Mike – I’m sorry, you must be in agony right now."

The fact that he wasn’t actually in agony didn’t cause Mike to protest as the business director went down on her knees and undid the catch on his pants. She pulled his boxers and pants down to his knees, letting his seven inch cock escape its prison to stand fully at attention.

With a devious smile, Giselle lowered her mouth and gave the cock’s head a kiss at the tip. She then started twirling her tongue around the tip of Mike’s cock, licking off the pre-cum that was welling up there. It tasted vaguely sweet, and left the business woman wanting more. Gently, she wrapped her lips around the cock’s head, and began sucking.

Mike let out a moan, and put his hand on the back of Giselle’s head to push her down. The busty brunette wrapped a hand around the base of the sex writer’s cock, and brought her head down further. Her tongue began to run along the length of penis she had in her mouth, and she began to make an up-down motion with her head, trying to give Mike as much pleasure as possible.

Needless to say, it was working.

"Oh, fuck, Giselle, that feels good…"

Giselle smirked up at him, not saying anything, just continuing her motion. She slowly added a circle motion, sending a twinge up his cock like lighting. He grunted, and then felt a growing pressure in his balls. Realizing what it meant, he hissed, "Giselle, I’m gonna cum…"

Giselle slowed down, and then pulled her mouth off of his cock. However, before he could complain, she brought up her D tits, and started rubbing his cock between them. She then spat on the cock head to lubricate it, and ran it between her boobs.

"Fuck, fuuuuck, I’m going to blow my lo-"

Mike got cut off by the moan which burst from his lips as strings of pearly white semen erupted from his penis, shot up on to Giselle’s face, her hair, her tits and in her mouth, and then felt an exquisite tingling sensation. Sighing, he pulled his dick out from between her tits, and pulled away as his dick began to shrink once more.

Giselle licked her lips, pulling any cum that was there in to her mouth, and then swallowed. She then lunged up, and caught Mike in a full on Kiss, straddling him and rubbing her cum-covered boobs against his chest. She then bent down to his ear, and whispered, "You’re not done yet, big boy…"

She then sat in his lap, grabbed both of her tits and pulled them up to lick the cum off of them. Then, she grabbed Mike’s hands, and put one on her tits, while the other she brought around her waist. Gently, she guided Mike’s hand down the inside of her pants, and then let go of his hand, giving him free reign.

The blond man understood now what she wanted him to do, and slid his hand into her panties. His fingers brushed against her pubic hair as it entered the much sought after realm of the female body. He prepared himself mentally to push his fingers in, and was just about to do it…


Giselle’s landline was ringing. With a pained look on her face, Giselle spun the chair around, kicked out so that it moved them both towards the phone, and picked up.

"Hello, Giselle Evans, Head of Business at the Hopil Gazette, how may I help you?"

"Ms. Evans, it’s Martha – I need your help, the figures aren’t balancing in that report you gave me. I think we may have a case of fraud, in which case we need to run that story as soon as possible."

"I know how to do my job, thanks Martha," Giselle snapped, and hung up the phone. She then turned her head, kissed Mike, and said, "I’m sorry Mike, I have to go – duty calls. My number’s on my desk though, give me a call, alright?"

Mike nodded, and Giselle grabbed some tissues from her table, and wiped the jizz off her face and breasts. She then threw out the tissue, pulled her clothes back on, tossed her hair, and with a forlorn at Mike left. The door slid shut, and the topless man could only think of one thing.

Maybe this job isn’t so bad after all…

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Pub: 10 Feb 2024 05:50 UTC
Views: 715