This year had been a very good one despite the global crisis.
A Day in the Life of a Banker – Office Duties.
The Career Appraisal
Mr. Plunketting had been running a tight ship for close on 30 years. A successful medium size investment bank and had latterly capitalized on the new fad for hedge fund management, making yet another packet of cash. A traditional boss, of the old style, he took an active interest in his staff, and rewarded them well.
This year had been a very good one despite the global crisis. As he sat at his large mahogany desk, he contemplated a bonus pool of over 57 million dollars, that was at his disposal to grant to his handpicked employees, both new and of long service to his firm. His office was of course on the corner of the 50th floor, the top, overlooking the city. His desk was embossed with a faded dark green leather top, slightly worn and faded from several years use, and some of the other accoutrements of the more traditional business leader looked out to a view that he often contemplated when having to come to the weighty decisions that were his responsibilities at the bank.
He took his responsibilities seriously and particularly relished the time of the year. The annual staff career appraisal and the allocation of what could, for some, amount to very large cash bonuses.
He buzzed his secretary, Mildred McHew, a veteran of nearly 20 years at Plunketting's. 'Ms. McHew', send in our first candidate in 5 minutes please, I am just reviewing her file'. And buzzed off promptly.
'Human Resource Memo File - Mrs. Hackenpecker', he read. At 23, one of the youngest hedge fund managers on the firm, newly married, a graduate of Harvard Business School, Rhodes Scholar to Oxford, interests including basketball where she had competed at national level, extreme sports, and as a footnote, the women's right's movement, a dissertation on which had won her scholarship to Oxford; anti abortionist and anti-contraception. Quite a key player in the markets already, with serious, although highly geared bets paying off and the generation of particularly pleasing profits for his firm. Real potential here, he thought, and an opportunity for her to receive her first real lift into the world of the bank's high earning bonus players.
'Send her in, Ms. McHew', he buzzed through.
Ms. Hackenpecker was dressed as usual in a trim, businesslike skirt suit, black, the skirt just to the knee, sheer black stockings, and while conservative very feminine high heeled shoes, highly polished, her dark hair drawn back in a severe bun. She strode purposely to the large leather executive chair opposite Mr. Plunketting and held his eye as she sat facing him across his sumptuous desk.
'Mrs. Hackenpecker, welcome', started Mr. Plunketting, 'a good year! You will share one would hope my pleasure in being able to tell you that we have a very significant bonus pool this year, and that your part of that is potentially very interesting', 'you will of course be wondering about that, potential?'.
Indeed Mrs. Hackenpecker had been thinking about her bonus. She felt that she deserved a lion's share of the pool. Apart from the fact that she was a top 5 salesperson, she was convinced that she would have to fight for her fair share, like all her fellow women in the corporate world and being the feminist that she most certainly was, would fight for it.
'I understood Mr. Plunketting that the pool this year ran to something like 50 million US. As an upper flight producer naturally I am clearly interested in hearing what my share is, and when it is payable'.
'And you thought right, Mrs. Hackenpecker. Dependent upon this appraisal, your share within the tier platform is anything from zero percent, as you know this is entirely discretionary, to a maximum of 15%, that is to say from nothing up to about 8.5 million dollars, yes. There is of course also your contract renewal to think about, you are now contractually how shall we say 'disposable', and part of today's discussion will decide whether you make junior partner'.
'Shall we start, then. Good, pop off your panties please, place them up here on the desk and up you get too, raise the skirt when you are settled'.
Mrs. Hackenpecker thought that she had misheard. 'I beg your pardon?', she said, her face reddening, her carefully painted lips tightening.
'Clearly you are new to our appraisal system here at Plunketting's. If you could just remove your panties please, place them here, jump up on the desk raise your skirt and lie back - it’s really quite a comfortable desk you know'.
'I cannot believe that I am hearing this! This is, this is illegal! What the hell do you think you are up to! I could sue your ass off for this and believe you me I am going to sue your perverted ass off!'
'Mrs. Hackenpecker, I must insist. I take a very personal interest in all potential partners of the firm, and the bonus potentially on offer is in the face of it, a lot of money, but reward well paid, you are interested I take it?'
Carlotta Hackenpecker's mind was a whirl. She was at once hypnotized by the thought of taking a 8 million US bonus home to her ex-Lehman Brothers and now unemployed husband. On the other hand her strict feminist outlook and belief that women had to fight to break the glass ceiling was outraged - she should just walk on out now, she thought, and sue the fucking corporation for sexual harassment.
Then again, how was she to prove it? Her contract, as it was, was watertight with confidentiality clauses, and more obviously, it would be her word against the respected Mr. Plunketting and his venerable bank. Of course, thinking of the money, there would also not be any witnesses should she comply with Mr. Plunketting's request.
Reluctantly, she lifted her skirt, hitched her panties down over her knees and her shiny shoes, and placed them on the table, within an arm’s length of Mr. Plunketting.
'Marvelous, Mrs. Hackenpecker, now up on the table, that's good, and as I said just lie back, hitch up the skirt. I think that you will find it most comfortable'.
With Mrs. Hackenpecker in place, Mr. Plunketting's chubby hand reached over for her discarded panties and he turned a benevolent eye upon them for his preliminary inspection. He noted with pleasure that they were made of the finest black silk, still warm to the touch. Turning them over he inspected the gusset, saying, 'marvelous, not a stain this year', before bringing the panties to his nose and inhaling deeply.
'Heady, Mrs. Hackenpecker, heady', murmured the connoisseur, 'sharp and tangy, with earthy hints and an upper lemony tone, a strong vintage year this really is'. He inhaled once more and felt a slight stirring in his trousers as he breathed in the smell of Mrs. Hackenpecker's pussy.
Carlotta Hackenpecker didn't know what to think. Certainly, the money, and certainly how to get this madness in front of the women's sexual harassment board.
'Now, just bend your knees and widen your legs somewhat and you can lift the skirt a little higher, and shift forward please, yes, that's right', stated Mr. Plunketting.
Carlotta did as requested, her blood boiling with indignation, but her business like mind focused on the money, the transaction, the 8 million pay dirt.
Mr. Plunketting placed the panties to one side, after a final appreciative sniff and turned instead to inspect Mrs. Hackenpecker's exposed pussy, now fully visible and framed nicely by the tops of her stockings. It was an arresting sight and Mr. Plunketting eyed it with keen interest. 'I do notice that you like to keep things trim, Mrs. Hackenpecker', as he observed her neatly shaped pubic bush, thick and lushly hairy above, but shorn smooth and hairless to either side, and ran his fingers through her lush wiry pubes.
Placing a thumb either side of her pussy Mr. Plunketting parted the lips, exposing Mrs. Hackenpecker's delicate pink slit, naturally slightly moistened along with her well-developed clitoris. 'Now the nub of the matter is before us. You will shortly receive notice of your share of the pie, Mrs. Hackenpecker', he said as he lowered his face to within a centimeter of her exposed, pouting pussy, and breathed in her musky smell. He felt a stirring in his well pressed trousers, as Mrs. Hackenpecker's pussy flavors filled his appreciative nose. 'Now, just jump down here please, bend over the table, that's good'.
Mrs. Hackenpecker's blood boiled with indignation as she bent forward, exposing her shapely bottom to Mr. Plunketting's gaze. As they taught her in business school though, she was determined to remain focused. Just focused on the money, trying to put the thoughts of her husband out of her mind, a husband to whom she had always been faithful since ever he had taken her virginity on their wedding night. She also determined to somehow find a way to sue for sexual harassment. She was sure that her sisters at the feminist support group would help her find a way.
Mr. Plunketting had the perfect view of Mrs. Hackenpecker's perfect bottom, he parted her buttocks and riveted his attention upon her pink, slightly puckered anus, and bent forward to savor its faintly sweaty bouquet. As the heavenly smell reached Mr. Plunketting's nostrils, he reached down and unzipped his pinstriped trousers, unbuttoned his belt and unleashed his now fully erect cock. Before returning his attention to Mrs. Hackenpecker's exposed pussy and ass, he also opened his desk drawer, and took out a Plunketting's branded envelope, and standing handed it up to Mrs. Hackenpecker.
The act of standing and passing up the envelope caused Mr. Plunketting's now fully turgid cock to touch Mrs. Hackenpecker's pussy for the first time. 'Just what the hell is going on here', raced through Carlotta Hackenpecker's mind, as she received the envelope and cringed with horror as she felt what was clearly Mr. Plunketting's cock brush against her pussy, 'deal focus, deal focus, stay on message, stay on message', she repeated to herself.
As Mrs. Hackenpecker started opening the richly embossed envelope, Mr. Plunketting's gaze returned to the pink ring and soft furze of his employee's ass and pussy. His cock was now throbbing, and while he was aware that at just three inches it was quite small, he had always felt that this was more than compensated for by his outsized balls, which swung between his legs like a pair of ripe grapefruits. He parted Mrs. Hackenpecker's buttocks, again savoring the sight of her little pink ass hole.
Staying focused and on message, Carlotta Hackenpecker concentrated on opening the envelope, despite being aware that Mr. Hackenpecker stood behind her, and as she now knew with his cock primed, inches from her exposed pussy and ass. She got the envelope open and quickly removing the letter, unfolded it and scanned down the page.
She gasped aloud as her eyes focused the sum mid-way down the page, 'Eight Million Dollars, payable...', and she gasped again as she felt Mr. Hackenpecker's cock glide slowly into her pussy. 'The bastard's raping me', she thought, as she felt Mr. Plunketting's cock slide in and out of her well-groomed pussy, 'the bastard's fucking raping me, but I can hardly feel the fucker's dick it’s so tiny', she thought, as the details of the bonus letter swam before her eyes. She again determined to find a way to get her fellow sisters to support her in pressing charges and getting justice for her and all the exploited women in the workplace.
Carlota Hackenpecker tried to remain focused as Mr. Plunketting's penetrated her with measured, businesslike strokes. She tried to focus on the terms of the contract as horrified, she felt Mr. Plunketting's huge balls knock into her thighs on each stroke in and out of her pussy, which despite her feminist resolve had responded and was now wet and slick and accommodating. She gritted her teeth, trying to stay on message, to push the envelope in management terms, even as a strong sensation throbbed through her swollen clitoris.
Mr. Plunketting prided himself on his stamina, despite the diminutive size of his cock, and it was a full twenty minutes of measured thrusting in and out of Mrs. Hackenpecker's now slopping wet pussy, before he started to feel the pressure in his balls rise. He was particularly happy with the outcome of this appraisal. Mrs. Hackenpecker had passed with flying colors and with a final glance down at her puckered anus, he said, 'most satisfactory, Mrs. Hackenpecker, most satisfactory indeed', and with that his impressive balls shuddered and his little cock plunged to its depth into Carlota Hackenpecker, and he began to blow his fertile load on both barrels, deep into her pussy.
Mr. Plunketting held himself in place, still admiring Mrs. Hackenpecker's puckered pink hole, as his balls pumped and pumped his thick, rich brew into her. He had had a full load on board and Mrs. Hackenpecker's pussy was soon overflowing with sticky hot sperm as both of his oversized plums emptied into her.
Eventually Mr. Plunketting was satisfied that his balls had emptied, and he neatly retrieved his shriveling pecker and set his trousers straight. 'As I was saying Mrs. Hackenpecker, a most satisfactory year and an admirable appraisal. You can pop your panties back on please, and lets sign the paperwork!', he said, smiling with sated satisfaction at a job well done.
Struggling with humiliation and anger, Carlota Hackenpecker retrieved her discarded panties from the expanse of Mr. Plunketting's wide desk and struggled back into them.
Sitting again across from Mr. Plunketting, the paperwork before her, her fair share of the profit, well earned, her pussy had never felt so full. Her panties were soaked as reams of thick, still warm sperm dribbled into them. It felt as if someone had cracked a dozen eggs inside her pussy, and she could already feel the rich goo overflow her panty line and dribble down her legs. She would have to get straight to the female executive rest room and clean up as soon as she had signed herself over the eight million buck bonus she so rightly felt that she deserved.
She would work out later how she would sue the corporation for this outrageous sexual harassment and rape. She hoped that her much loved husband, waiting unemployed at home, would not want to give her oral pleasure this evening, at least before she had had the chance to cleanse her pussy of what felt like at least a pint of semen, and she worried about her unprotected womb, which she felt must also be brimming with thick, lively sperm.
'Now Mrs. Hackenpecker, as you will be well aware the bonus money will be held in escrow for 120 days as per your contract with Plunketting's Bank, and of course subject to the contract, which no doubt you will have read', and with that he reached for his limited edition gold embossed 'Fat Boy Meisterstuck' pen and with a flourish signed the contract.
Mrs. Hackenpecker, whose panties were now sopping wet with sticky sperm, for her part countersigned, holding Mr. Plunketting's eye as she did so, and inwardly resolving to go directly to the female executive rest room to try to scoop as much of the thick sperm as possible from her full to the brim pussy. She didn't think that it would be possible to salvage her sopping wet panties and would have to trade through the afternoon 'commando’ and hope her hubby wasn't feeling too amorous when she arrived home. She struggled to think how she would clean such copious amounts of sperm from her pussy without generous douching and a long bath.
'Well done, Mrs. Hackenpecker, one hopes that you share my happiness at your well-earned reward and that after the hold off period that I can welcome you as the latest partner to the firm. I look forward to the final completion of this transaction in 3 months’ time, good day!'
Taking Mr. Plunketting's last comment as the end to her appraisal, Mrs. Hackenpecker rose to leave, and as she did so felt yet more sperm eject from her slick pussy and dribble slowly down her thighs.
Focused on the message, and stretching her personal envelope to the limit, she squelched from the room.
Mr. Plunketting reached for his humidor and extracted a Ghurkha's 'His Majesty' cigar, lit it gently in the knowledge that he had done his level best by his bank and his employees. Hitting the intercom, he murmured, 'Ms. McHew, next up is I believe our six former trainee - just give me twenty minutes please and send her in'.
MR PLUNKETTING, PROPRIETOR, SETS THE TONE OF THE CAREER PLAN OF CLARISSA PERKINGSLITE, AGE 17.
Mr. Plunketting finished his smooth cigar and contemplated the next set of interviews and appraisals in his busy schedule. He noted that next up was 'Early Vocational Career Ops'. Start them young, none of that Harvard Business School nonsense, and get the trading in their blood early.
'Send in Miss Perkingslite, Ms. McHew', he stated on the intercom.
Clarissa Perkingslite, aged just 17, had been sitting pretending to read 'Banker's Monthly' during the 20 minute wait since Mrs. Hackenpecker had left old man Plunketting's office. In fact Clarissa had concealed a copy of 'Cosmopolitan' inside the staid banking magazine, to fool the dried up old bitch of a PA that guarded Plunketting's office. She had been concentrating on an article on career building, and some of the more unorthodox methods that certain female Hollywood stars were rumored to have used in their climb to the top, on the so-called 'casting couch'.
Some top names were mentioned, all heroines to the impressible Clarissa.
She had seen her boss the totally uptight Mrs. Hackenpecker leave Plunketting's office. She seemed to Clarissa to be as stuck up as ever, though flushed in the face and walking strangely, as if she'd pee'd her panties or something. Well, fuck her, I hope that she has pissed her prissy panties, thought Clarissa as she rose to enter the old boy's office.
'Ms. Perkingslite, do come in and sit yourself down' started Mr. Plunketting, before launching into a review of her so far short career at the firm and how he had high expectations of all his youngest employees. He emphasized to Clarissa that he took a personal and very detailed interest in all his staff, not least though those on his, 'accelerated career program' that he was very keen on having her start on immediately, should today's appraisal be successful.
'Ms. Perkingslite, I take it that you are as keen as me to start on the program. It will of course mean an immediate rise for you, and you will of course have more contract with me in person'.
Clarissa knew what was expected right away, 'Oh, I get it, you want me to blow you? OK, no problem Mr. Plunketting, I really want this appraisal to work out for me'.
My goodness, these youngsters are very forward, though Mr. Plunketting and really eager to get on fast. 'Clearly you are new to Plunketting's, Miss Perkingslite' he said benignly, 'just pop your panties down and place them here on the table, and then of you would be so kind enough to lie back on the table and raise the skirt, the table I think you will find is most comfortable'.
Whoa! Weirdo! thought Clarissa, but replied, 'Okey-dokey, Mr. Plunketting', and in a swift movement whipped her panties over her knees and her black shiny boots and hopped up on the table, spreading her long legs wide and lifting her skirt. Mr. Plunketting retrieved the discarded still-warm panties and turned them over in his pudgy hand for an initial inspection. He noted with an understanding of youth's ways that the panties were simple white cotton, with a design that read 'Hello Kitty' on the frontispiece.
He turned over the panties in his hand and inspected the inside of the gusset and noted a thin creamy white stain in the center. 'Now Miss Perkingslite, I can see that we are going to have to be rigorous in training you, if you are to succeed on our program', before lifting the panty gusset to his practiced nose and inhaling Clarissa's pussy aroma from the slightly damp cotton. 'Although you have a most strong natural potential', he continued as he inhaled the rich fumes of Miss Perkingslite's youthful juices, 'vigorous, racy, and lingering, Miss Perkingslite, a most satisfying potential', stated the connoisseur of years of rigorous career planning.
Casting the panties to one side, Mr. Plunketting turned his eye to Miss Perkingslite's exposed pussy. Clarissa lay back on his wide desk with her legs spread as wide as she could spread them, lifting her buttocks slightly, offering a clear view of her apprentice credentials. Mr. Plunketting noted, again with his innate understanding of the youth of today, that she had let her pussy hair run wild and natural, a thick blond bush of pubes in a prominent 'v' shape above her pouting, moist labia.
'Clearly there is a very full future ahead of you at Plunketting's, Miss Perkingslite', stated Mr. Plunketting, as he surveyed Clarissa's wild young bush, and gently parted her pussy lips to inspect her moist, pink interior, bending slightly to catch a whiff of her fresh scent. 'Oh, good, Mr. Plunketting, I am pleased', retorted Clarissa Perkingslite, 'I am very happy that you can see my inner potential', she said, shifting her weight so that Mr. Plunketting had an even clearer view of her exposed pussy. 'Can you let me have a taste of what that future may be, Mr. Plunketting?', asked Clarissa, deftly moving her glistening pussy directly toward Mr. Plunketting's mouth.
'Why, certainly I can try outline that for you Miss Perkingslite', and still holding his apprentice's pussy open slurped his tongue from just above her puckered anus, along her gaping slit, where his tongue dipped into Clarissa's young, wet and slippery hole, before running up and over her now erect little clitoris. As the full heady flavors of Miss Perkingslite's pussy melted over Mr. Plunketting's tongue, he felt a familiar stirring in his finely pressed, tailored Brioni pin-stripe trousers, as his little cock stirred to life, and his formidable balls twitched in readiness.
Clarissa had no objection to having Mr. Plunketting lick her little pussy. She was a fully modern and realistic girl and knew what she had to do to get on in the boring world of investment banking. She was sure that she would be knock out, and soon be earning more than her stuck up, uptight bitch of a boss, Carlotta-fucking-Hackenpecker. Then she would get her own back on that dried up feminist witch.
'Clearly we will have to get you signed straight onto the program, Miss Perkingslite, I am convinced you have the taste for every success', said Mr. Plunketting taking another long slurp of Clarissa's pussy, 'step down this side, please and bend over, so that you can review the documentation properly'.
'Okey-dokey! Mr. Plunketting' answered young Clarissa, and accepting a finely embossed Plunketting's envelope, obediently bent over in front of Mr. Plunketting, lifted her skirt and cheekily raised her buttocks to enhance Mr. Plunketting's view of her apprentice assets and as yet undeveloped talents.
Mr. Plunketting held Miss Perkingslite's butt cheeks apart in order to have a closer inspection of her resources. He particularly focused on her little pink anus and noted one or two delicate wispy blond hairs surrounding it. He leaned forward and breathed in Miss Perkingslite's musky, tangy odor and his cock now at full mast, undid his belt and fly and unleashed it, also freeing his almighty balls.
Clarissa Perkingslite had got the envelope open and was reading through the dull contractual papers that it had held. She wasn't really bothered by the small print and just cut to the chase, her corn blue eyes lighting up when she saw that her new salary on the 'fast track' program would be over a hundred thousand bucks a year, basic and with access to Plunketting's famous bonus pool. 'Fucking ace!' she thought, feeling Mr. Plunketting stand behind her and reach for his big gold pen.
As Mr. Plunketting reached for his pen, his erect little cock brushed against Clarissa's exposed pussy and ass cheeks. 'Alrighty! Here we go', thought Clarissa, feeling Mr. Plunketting's cock slither between her butt cheeks, 'fucking hope he gets off quick, so I can sign this shit and get the fuck down to the mall to do some serious shopping'.
However, unexpectedly Mr. Plunketting had sat back down, still behind Clarissa, who remained bent over before him displaying her young talents, pretending to concentrate on the papers. 'When you are absolutely certain that you have read and understood the papers, Miss Perkingslite, I look forward to putting pen to paper and getting you properly on board', he said, warming his limited edition gold embossed 'Fat Boy Meisterstuck' pen in his hand, in readiness to close out yet another satisfying contract.
Wishing to seem serious, though with her mind already down at the mall, Clarissa replied, 'Just re-checking the small print, Mr. Plunketting - Mrs. Hackenpecker has taught me always to be thorough while at Plunketting's, Sir!'
Clarissa's innocent long-lashed eyes widened as she felt the warm solid gold tip of Mr. Plunketting's old faithful 'fat-boy' trail between her pussy lips towards her little pink bum hole. 'Whoa! This is getting kinder weird' she thought, as old faithful 'fat boy' came to rest, its rounded end poised to plunge into her ass.
'Miss Perkingslite, as you are aware we are sticklers for tradition at Plunketting's and I always close out new arrangements with the same pen that my father and founder of the firm used', said Mr. Plunketting, and with that, Clarissa felt the 'fat boy' pop through her sphincter and into her ass. One or two of her boyfriends had tried slipping their dicks into her butt, but she had never let them. 'Fat boy' sunk about two inches into her tight little bottom, and while it felt funny, it wasn't unpleasant, and didn't hurt her.
When Mr. Plunketting had inserted his veteran pen as far as it would go into Miss Perkingslite's ass, he let go and left it protruding from her bottom in readiness to complete the deal. Mr. Plunketting admired the sight of his pen in Miss Perkingslite's undeveloped asset and said, 'Provided you have understood the contract, I believe we should sign, Miss Perkingslite, are you ready?'.
'Why, yes! Mr. Plunketting, I am ready!', replied Miss Perkingslite, and with that she felt Mr. Plunketting slowly ease the ‘fat boy' from her bum and stand. 'You realize that the 'fast track' is a most unorthodox career path at Plunketting's Miss Perkingslite?', he asked and with that again Clarissa Perkingslite's eyes started wide open has she felt the tip of what was undoubtedly Mr. Plunketting's cock against the rim of her anus, 'sort of like a back entrance to the bank', finished Mr. Plunketting and with that Clarissa felt his little three inch cock penetrate her tight little bum.
As Mrs. Hackenpecker had found out before her, while Mr. Plunketting was not well endowed in regards to his cock, his balls hung like two ripe grapefruits between his legs and were almost always full to the brim with his rich sticky brew. Clarissa Perkingslite could feel the huge orbs bouncing onto her pussy as Mr. Plunketting dutifully reamed his little cock in and out of her bottom. The sensation of having a cock up her bum was not unpleasant for Clarissa, in fact she decided that the next time her well-endowed latest boyfriend wanted to stick his cock up her ass she would let him. In the meantime, she could hardly feel the intrusion of Mr. Plunketting's cock in her. While she realized that she was being buggered, she didn't really give a damn, so long as she signed the contract that would give her all the freedom that she wanted down at the Mall. First up she was going to get some new shoes.
'I am ready to sign, Mr. Plunketting', she said and reached out for his trusty 'fat boy', uncapped it and flourished her signature onto the contract. 'Most satisfactory, Miss Perkingslite, most satisfactory indeed', said Mr. Plunketting and with young Clarissa's signature his great balls shuddered and he buried his little cock into his latest apprentice and began to deliver his plentiful load directly into Clarissa's virgin poop chute.
Clarissa involuntarily crossed her eyes, as Mr. Plunketting's balls began to deliver their load into her bottom. She could feel his little cock shuddering as each spurt of his rich product pumped into her and wondered if the flow of Mr. Plunketting's brew would ever stop. Just as she felt that her bum would explode in an almighty fart of Mr. Plunketting's cum, she saw him reach forward, grab his 'fat boy' pen and sign next to her name on the contract. With that the gushing flow from Mr. Plunketting’s gargantuan balls ceased, his little shriveled cock plopped out of her back door, and Mr. Plunketting quickly rearranged his trousers.
'Well Miss Perkingslite, I must say that I am highly satisfied with the outcome of our meeting. When you have popped your panties back on you will no doubt be happy to inform Mrs. Hackenpecker that you will immediately start to trade under her, with close oversight from me in person'
'Thank you, Sir', replied Clarissa, although she wasn't sure that she wanted much more close oversight of her career. Her bottom, though not sore, was full to the brim with sperm and she was keen to get to the executive female suite and blow the load out. Then she intended to take off early - Mrs. Stuck Up Hackenpecker could wait, Clarissa was headed straight to the mall and couldn't wait to tell her pals that she had made it. She pulled her Hello Kitty panties over her shiny boots and up her long legs and wobbled from the room.
Mr. Plunketting surveyed his desk with a warm feeling of satisfaction at another job well done. Reaching for a Ghurkha's 'His Majesty' cigar, he reviewed his diary for the rest of the day. Two more important and challenging interviews to complete thoroughly he noted, first Mrs. Latitia Lipswell, the black American head of the bank's 'Ethnic Diversity and Equal Opportunity' program, and then the head of the yen-dollar desk, Mrs. Kim Dong.
It was going to be a challenging afternoon, but Mr. Plunketting knew his duty and would carry it out to the fullest of his abilities.
MR PLUNKETTING, PROPRIETOR, DISCUSSES ETHNIC DIVERSITY AND EQUAL OPPORTUNITIES WITH MRS LATITIA LIPSWELL THE FORMER CIVIL RIGHTS LAWYER AND HEAD OF THE ED&EO PROGRAM AT PLUNKETTINGS.
Mr. Plunketting took a satisfied puff on his Ghurkha's 'His Majesty' cigar and grasping his faithful 'fat boy' Meisterstuck gold plated pen turned a patriarchal eye to Mrs. Latitia Lipswell's file. He noted that at 25 she was in the top bracket of Plunketting's earners, married, a real regular at Plunketting's gym, and a key member of the city's black community, attorney by training and active in the many projects that set to improve the lot of that community's youth.
Latitia Lipswell sat waiting in Mr. Plunketting's reception area, she had prepared in earnest for this all important meeting in which she was determined to win a considerable sum of money for the creation of a training center for some of her neighborhoods most deprived youngsters. She was dressed in a sharp, pink skirt suit, with black trim, sheer black stockings and had her favorite shiny black patent high heels on. She felt that the color of her neat little suit nicely set off her caramel skin.
Her pitch black hair was tied in a neat, almost strict bun.
She was keen to get on with the meeting but had been kept waiting for at least 30 minutes since that white trash little slut Clarissa Perkingslite had rushed past her, no doubt headed out early again to hang about at the mall with all the other spoiled white trash.
Mr. Plunketting recalled with satisfaction his successful coaching of young Miss Perkingslite, as he ran 'fat boy', his old faithful pen under his nose, relishing the smooth gold finish. Fortified, he buzzed the intercom, 'send Mrs. Lipswell in please, Ms. McHew'.
Latitia Lipswell strode purposely into Mr. Plunketting's lavishly furnished office, determined to strike a pose. She noticed several old master wall paintings, the real fire and the privileged view over the city, in her mind clearly the rewards of centuries of white exploitation. She took the lavish leather bound seat in front of Mr. Plunketting and neatly crossed her muscular legs.
'Mrs. Lipswell, how glad I am to meet you in person', said Mr. Plunketting, 'I have taken a keen interest in your career to date and in the project that you have put forward for Plunketting's sponsorship'. Latitia was going to have to play her cards right, she thought, if she was going to secure the funds from this exploitative old white boy and, suspected white-supremist capitalist blood sucker; she had after all practically guaranteed the money to the local hood reverend, and if she couldn't get Mr. Plunketting to sign, she would have to pay out of her own pocket, and the 7.5 million dollar price tag would practically eat all her hard won savings.
'Thank you, Mr. Plunketting', replied Latitia, 'the black community is counting on Plunketting's as regards this fine project you been looking at, and I am just determine to convince you to get and do the right thing by it', and with that she gave Mr. Plunketting a dazzling smile.
'Well, now Mrs. Lipswell, shall we as they say, 'get it percolating', no need in waiting, just pop your panties off, and place them here, then up on the table and we'll soon have this deal done. The bank is close to releasing the funds', beamed Mr. Plunketting, 'lift the skirt when you are settled, I am sure that you will find the table most comfortable'.
Confused, Mrs. Lipswell wasn't sure she had heard correctly, 'what in the name did you say?', she burst out, a trace of her suppressed ghetto accent audible as it always was when she was flustered or getting 'dissed'.
'Come Mrs. Lipswell, put simply, just pop your panties off, hop on the table, lie back comfortably, skirt hitched up nicely! We have some work to complete before we can sign over the full funds required'
'Y'all bin dissin' me mo-fo, I ain't no nigra ho slave of you'all', Latitia practically shouted, her blood boiling with indignation and her voice now reverting fully to the language and accent that she had worked so hard at shaking off since clambering up the professional ladder and out of the ghetto of her youth.
Mr. Plunketting raised a professional eyebrow at Mrs. Lipswell's outburst, but in the interest of his firm's strict adherence to its equal opportunities policy, replied stoically, 'Mrs. Lipswell, I assure you that I personally have every intention of ensuring that the funds are released on completion of today's discussion. You must however realize and accept that for the outlay of over 7 million dollars, I feel duty bound to take a personal interest in the project', with a warm smile, he continued, 'let’s get 'percolating' and get the official niceties out of the way, and the project is up and running', and 'now panties off, up here, please'.
Latitia Lipswell was livid. Her bee-sting lips pouted and her eyes flashed white at the audacity of her white boss-man's suggestion. Rationally, that part of her that had escaped the ghetto felt conflicted, she could be in place to deliver over 7 million dollars of white exploitation money to her local hood, if she could get through this monstrous situation. She would be sacrificing her dignity and the sanctity of her marriage vows for the sake of the futures of over 30 deprived youths in her old hood and for her hard working reverend. Her mind conflicted, she decided that she would have to make this sacrifice, no-one need ever know, and the money could be in her hands in lick time. Reluctantly, and brimming with anger with both herself and with the system, she uncrossed her lithe muscular legs, hitched up her neat pink skirt and pulled her panties down over her knees and shiny boots and placed them on Mr. Plunketting's huge table, before getting on the table and lying back to make her sacrifice.
'Excellent, let’s begin, Mrs. Lipswell, I am certain that in no time at all our project will be underway', he said as he reached out to take Latitia's panties. He turned his eyes to Mrs. Lipswell's discarded panties and was pleased to note that they were a matching pink to Mrs. Lipswell's professional looking suit. He noted that the panties where made from fine silk, very smooth to the touch and still warm. He turned them over in his pudgy hand for a close inspection of the gusset and was surprised and encouraged to observe a pronounced stain of damp material in the center. He lifted the gusset to his connoisseur's nose and inhaled deeply.
Mrs. Lipswell was both horrified and mortified at this development. She was in the middle of her cycle and ovulating, and frankly at this time of the month she always got extremely horny, and just before coming to this nightmarish meeting and after a hard work out at the gym had slipped into the executive toilets and rubbed herself off to a full orgasm. She knew that her panties were soaked with her pussy juices.
In all his years of conducting business meetings with his employees, whether it be career appraisals, career coaching, or like this in regards to Plunketting's many charitable ventures, Mr. Plunketting's connoisseur's nose had never encountered anything like the tangy aroma that infused Mrs. Lipswell's panties. He took another long appreciative sniff and relished the strongly pronounced smell of fresh pussy juices combined with an underlying deeper and more subtle smell of the sweat from Mrs. Lipswell's work out. His little dick immediately stiffened to its full three inches and his enormous balls, like a pair of two large ripe grapefruits shuddered to life, once more full to the brim. It was highly irregular, but in the light of this magnificent whiff he brought the gusset to his nose for a third deep inhalation of Mrs. Lipswell's fruity product, before almost croaking, 'Mrs. Lipswell, this is one of the finest projects I have encountered in my long career', before turning his munificent gaze to Mrs. Lipswell's exposed pussy.
Something had clicked off in Latitia's mind, almost as if the act of prostrating herself to Mr. Plunketting had removed all her upright dignity and transported her back to a time deeply stored in her unconscious, 'Yessum! Massa! it's a real fine project you looking at there', she managed in reply, just as she realized that Mr. Plunketting's attentions had turned to her exposed, and now, against all her rational will, extremely wet pussy.
While Mr. Plunketting considered himself a man of the world and had always kept a broad minded view in regards to all of his employees, he rarely had the opportunity to work with his ethnic minority staff and relished the work ahead. Turning a benevolent eye to Mrs. Lipswell's pussy, he marveled at the rough, short, very wiry pubic bush before him as he ran his fingers through it. Then, he reached for his old faithful 'Fat Boy' gold plated Meisterstuck pen and holding it vertically took a brief measurement of Mrs. Lipswell's slit and noted that it was well in the upper percentile in length. 'I believe that this project will run for a goodly length of time, Mrs. Lipswell', he said.
Mr. Plunketting returned to his task and placing a thumb either side of Mrs. Lipswell's pussy, parted it to reveal a view of her remarkably pink and very moist interior. He noted with satisfaction that Mrs. Lipswell's very dark, almost black, clitoris was fully swollen and protruding from her thick black surrounding pussy lips. He lowered his head and ran his tongue the length of Mr. Lipswell's glistening slit, from just above her tight little ass hole, along and into her pussy slit and over her swollen clitoris, reveling in the taste and smell of her ethnic juices. Latitia Lipswell shuddered inside as an involuntary spasm of pleasure shivered through her clitoris and she felt her pussy moistening even more, a trickle of pussy juice exiting her slit and dripping down and over her bum hole.
'I must say that I am proud to be actively involved with all equal opportunity projects Mrs. Lipswell', he said, adding, 'now let’s finalize the detail, pop down here and you can review the documentation, bend over the table and keep the skirt hitched up'.
'Yessum', was all that Latitia Lipswell could reply as she dismounted Mr. Plunketting's fine desk and turned to bend over the table, automatically and as if in a trance lifting her neat skirt over her hips and exposing her big black booty.
Mr. Plunketting opened his finely tailored pinstriped trousers and unleashed his turgid throbbing three inch dick and his enormous balls, which hung like a pair of ripe grapefruits between his legs. Taking an embossed Plunketting's bank envelope from his desk he stood and passed it to Mrs. Lipswell. As he did so his little dick brushed against Mrs. Lipswell's wiry pubis and his massive balls quivered with anticipation.
'I think Mrs. Lipswell, that you will find the terms of our project most satisfying', he said, as he glanced down and parted her buttocks for a more detailed look at Mrs. Lipswell's assets. 'Yessum', Latitia replied.
Mr. Plunketting, ever appreciative of other cultures, admired Mrs. Lipswell's well developed, muscular black buttocks. He particularly relished her tight dark ass ring and her now shining, gaping slippery pussy, ever so pink when set against the black of her buttocks. As Mrs. Lipswell opened the richly embossed Plunketting bank envelope, he lined up his little dick and prepared to plough on with the next stage of this sensitive operation.
Mrs. Lipswell's eyes rolled back as she felt Mr. Plunketting's cock poised to push into her pussy. She tried to focus on the agreement before her but was faint headed, unsure how she had let herself get into a situation where she was about to go against all of her morals and allow herself to be defiled by a member of the white exploiter race. Then she saw the banker's draft, made out to her for seven million dollars before gasping as Mr. Plunketting's cock squirmed against her slopping wet pussy.
Mr. Plunketting was convinced that this was one of his most triumphant projects. He had always been aware that his cock was on the small side, though rightly believed that he made up for this with the miraculous nature of his huge balls and proven staying power when at the job. What surprised him however in regards to the business at hand was that he had to push hard to enter Mrs. Lipswell's pussy, tight and muscular as it was and despite the fact that she was wet in readiness. With his usual determination to make for a job well done, he persisted, and with a final effort his little dickhead penetrated between Mrs. Lipswell's big black buttocks and into the pink warm depths of her pussy.
Mrs. Lipswell could only just feel Mr. Plunketting's little dick sliding in and out of her muscular athletic pussy, but she could feel his large balls as they bounced against her thighs, each time the white exploiter thrust into her. Mr. Plunketting had never worked on a deal so satisfying. The tightness of Mrs. Lipswell's pussy was overwhelming and he marveled at the contrast of his little white cock plummeting in and out of Mrs. Lipswell's black pussy. He particularly reveled in the sight of her little winking asshole as he plummeted again and again into Mrs. Lipswell.
After several minutes of businesslike thrusting in and out of Mrs. Lipswell's fantastically tight pussy, Mr. Plunketting was starting to work up a sweat. Conversely, Latitia Lipswell's mind had virtually shut down. Against all her better judgement, her big black clitoris was throbbing intensely, and juices flooded her tight pink pussy, soon in the deepest recesses of her subconscious mind she knew that she was going to come.
Suddenly, just as he felt that his legs would give way, Mr. Plunketting felt Mrs. Lipswell's pussy clamp down on his little cock as Latitia's orgasm rocked through her. Her muscular pussy spasmed and spasmed on the white intruder's dick. The sensation of Mrs. Lipswell's pussy pulsating on Mr. Plunketting's little dick, combined with the sight of her dark anus and the contrast of his little white pole pounding in and out of Mrs. Lipswell's tight black pussy set Mr. Plunketting's miraculous balls trembling, and with an almighty shudder both of his massive balls began to blow their copious rich brew deep into Mrs. Lipswell's fertile black vagina.
Mrs. Lipswell's eyes once more rolled back in their sockets as reams and reams of thick white fertile sperm flooded her pulsating pussy. In a trance she just about managed to reach for Mr. Plunketting's 'fat boy' Meisterstuck and sign on the dotted line. Her project was in her reach and her sacrifice justified, although she was concerned that Mr. Plunketting was still pumping his exploiter's seed deep within her.
'Mrs. Lipswell, I do believe that we have a deal', declared Mr. Plunketting as at last his almighty balls ceased spurting his thick product into Latitia's taut black pussy. He retrieved his shrunken little dick from her impressive depths and adjusting his fine pinstriped trousers announced, 'just pop your panties back on and we are done'.
'Yessum', said Mrs. Lipswell and struggled back into her neat pink panties, her mind blank. Her pussy had never in all her life felt as full of sperm, which immediately began to fill her gusset and spill down the inside of her thighs. She retrieved the banker's draft and with a brief look at Mr. Plunketting's rich office interior tottered from the room.
Mr. Plunketting resolved in future to take much more of an interest in all things 'equal opportunity' within the bank. He thought that he might even have to personally interview some of Mrs. Lipswell's young wards in person. For now however, he was utterly exhausted. He reached into one of his desk's drawers and retrieving a bottle of Henri IV Dudognon Heritage cognac and poured himself a large, restorative measure.
Having gasped down the cognac, Mr. Plunketting buzzed the intercom, 'Ms. McHew, cancel my appointment with Mrs. Kim Dong please, I will take her instead first thing in the morning'. After such a rigorous review of the bank's equal opportunity engagements, he needed rest before taking on his dollar-yen trader. She would have to wait until morning when he was fully restored. Reflecting on a day well spent at the helm of Plunketting's, he reached for his Ghurkha's 'His Majesty' cigars and a well-earned smoke.
MR PLUNKETTING, PROPRIETOR, REVIEWS HIS DOLLAR-YEN TRADES WITH MRS KIM DONG AND DEMONSTRATES HIS KNOWLEDGE OF TRADITIONAL JAPANESE PRACTICES.
Mr. Plunketting had been doing his homework on all aspects of Japanese customs and had made some alterations to his desktop and professional accessories, although of course his faithful 'Fat Boy' gold plated Meisterstuck pen was in place on his commodious desk.
He glanced quickly through Mrs. Dong's resume and track record at the bank. 25 years old, married and with an envious track record of leading the dollar yen desk. Commissioned to date and a serious earner, though if today's appointment was successful to be offered a full partnership at Plunketting's, and to become the youngest ever partner at the bank.
Having satisfied himself with the details of Mrs. Dong's details he switched on his intercom and struck his new gong whose ringing noise was the signal to Ms. McHew to send in his successful dollar yen trader.
Mrs. Dong had been waiting half an hour or so before she heard the gong summon her to Mr. Plunketting's lushly decorated office. She was wearing a white blouse, a knee length pleated skirt, knee high white socks and patent leather pumps. With her hair in pig tails she looked a lot younger than her age. Due to the time difference, she had already been trading for several hours in the high pressure environment of the forex world.
'Mrs. Dong, welcome, and may I say how pleased I am to see you in person', started Mr. Plunketting, as Mrs. Dong took her place at the large mahogany leather topped desk. Polite to the extreme Kim Dong bowed slightly, 'Rery nice to be here Mr. Prunketing', she replied in her heavy Japanese accent.
'Now, Mrs. Dong, this may come as a surprise to you, but dependent upon our agreement today, the bank intends to make you a full partner, in fact the youngest ever partner the bank has ever appointed', said Mr. Plunketting, 'no doubt you have the qualities to take on the responsibilities as well as the honor that being a partner brings?', he asked. 'Res Mr. Prunketing, I ready for honor and reronribilty', she replied. She had already told her husband and her parents that she would be honored with partnership and was determined to win that honor.
'Excellent, then we can begin Mrs. Dong. Kindly pop your panties off and place them here, then hop up onto the table, legs spread nice and wide, I am sure that you will find the desk most comfortable', said Mr. Plunketting in his patrician voice. Mrs. Dong's almond shaped eyes narrowed to slits. While she had heard rumors about some unusual practices in the west, she had never expected to be asked to take her panties down by a respected boss.
'Hi! Rrrrrrris is hiry iregurar, Mister Prunketing!', she exclaimed. Mr. Plunketting cast his patrician eye over his young employee and remarked, 'Clearly you are new to Plunketting's traditions, Mrs. Dong. I really must be clear that I take a full and personal interest in all of those at the bank who are offer the honor of becoming full partner's. As partners we have a duty to each other and must take on the responsibilities associated with that honor'.
Tradition, honor and responsibility were the keystones in Mrs. Dong's upbringing. She was not sure if she would be compromising her personal honor should she comply with this strange western ritual suggested by her most respected boss. On the other hand she thought of the honor she would bring to her family when she became a partner of this venerable banking institution and reluctantly she decided to 'fall on the sword' as they said in her home country and to go through with the strange western ritual. Slowly she peeled her panties down over her knees, socks and her neat little pumps and placed them on the table. Then with some difficulty as she was short in stature she mounted Mr. Plunketting's fine desk, taking care not to knock his gong over.
'Splendid Mrs. Dong! Let us begin and soon we will have concluded our business', said Mr. Plunketting as he reached for Mrs. Dong's discarded panties. He turned his eye to Mrs. Dong's still warm panties and noted that they were rather a simple pair of baby pink cotton with a little silk bow on the frontispiece. He turned them over in his pudgy hand and closely inspected the gusset. Due to her long hours and the high pressure nature of her job, Mrs. Dong's panties had become stained with adrenaline induced sweat and indeed, a sample of her natural pussy juice.
Mr. Plunketting brought the panties to his connoisseur's nose and inhaled deeply. The whiff of sushi like aroma and adrenaline induced sweat filled his accomplished nostrils and he said, 'Marvelous, Mrs. Dong, you have all the qualities that Plunketting's requires in a new partner', and with that he took another appreciative sniff of Mrs. Dong's stained panty gusset and felt a familiar stirring in his finely tailored pinstripe trousers. After a restful night, his miraculous testicles were full to the brim with his healthy brew.
He cast Mrs. Dong's satisfactory panties to one side and turned his attention to her exposed pussy. Having completed his detailed research, he was not surprised to note that Mrs. Dong's pussy was clad with a thick black dark bush of pubic hair. He was well aware that pubic hair is highly prized in Japan and had expected nothing less.
He reached for his specially made Louis Vuitton VIP chopstick set and with practiced ease used them to part Mrs. Dong's thick pussy lips, exposing her delicate pink inner and her hard little clitoris. Mrs. Dong thought that this use of chop sticks was very unusual and her eyes narrowed further as she felt Mr. Plunketting pinch her hard little clitoris with them. Highly unusual indeed, she thought and most irregular.
'Very satisfactory indeed', exclaimed Mr. Plunketting as he finished his inspection of Mrs. Dong's pussy. He was particularly satisfied with the way that Mrs. Dong's clitoris was visible despite her impressive thick bush of pubic hair, and in viewing it, his little three inch dick had sprung to life. 'Excellent Mrs. Dong, let’s get this deal done. Just pop yourself down here and you can start to review the paperwork. Bend over and raise the skirt, please'. With that he handed Mrs. Dong a richly embossed Plunketting's envelope.
Mrs. Dong went along with Mr. Plunketting and taking the envelope she bent over her esteemed boss's desk and raised her pleated skirt, bending over to give Mr. Plunketting a view of her petite buttocks and neat little anus.
At the sight of Mrs. Dong's delicate buttocks, Mr. Plunketting released his little dick and his marvelous balls from his expensive tailored trousers. He admired the sight of Mrs. Dong's considerable public hair, puckered little anus, and still visibly protruding clitty. Mrs. Dong had the envelope open and was busy scanning the page. When her eyes clapped on the words 'full partnership' they sprang open, only to squeeze suddenly tight again as she felt Mr. Plunketting's little cock rustle through the furze of her prized pubic bush and enter her tight little pussy. She wondered if this was taking 'falling on the sword' a step too far.
Mr. Plunketting felt that this turning out to be one of his finest deals. While aware that his cock was on the small side, he felt that he more than made up with this with his staying power and his miraculously sized balls, which hung like ripe grapefruits between his legs. In this case however, due to her overall stature, Mrs. Dong's pussy was in addition to being tiny, very hot and extremely well lubricated. It fit Mr. Plunketting's little cock like a glove as he guided it in and out of Mrs. Dong with careful businesslike strokes. 'I feel that our partnership is going to be highly successful, Mrs. Dong', he gasped as he felt his balls start to shudder, 'I think that you can safely sign the papers now', he said and passed her his old faithful 'Fat Boy' Meisterstuck gold plated pen.
When Mrs. Dong had signed the papers, Mr. Plunketting exclaimed that he was most satisfied to have secured her as a partner of the bank. Removing his little dick from her hot pussy, he said, 'We must celebrate, do please kneel before me, you had better loosen your blouse too come to think of it'. Mrs. Dong had an inkling of what was coming and thought that it was highly irregular indeed, although in the interests of maintaining honor got to her knees and undid her neat white blouse. She wasn't wearing a bra, her tits were too small for one, though her nipples stood to attention poking out like little brown corks.
Mrs. Dong's almond eyes widened when she saw the size of her esteemed boss's testicles. She was used to little dicks, all her boyfriend’s back in Japan had had tiny ones, including her husband. None, however, had possessed anything approaching the sheer scale of Mr. Plunketting's massive balls. Very tentatively she took Mr. Plunketting's little cock into her mouth, and slowly, but expertly began sucking on it, all the while aware of the massive balls that swung forward and bounced against her throat.
Despite his proven staying power, Mr. Plunketting's balls were not going to hold out for long. Mrs. Dong was quite clearly a highly practiced cock sucker and she was doing an expert job on his little cock. The thought of her hairy pussy and now the sight of her tiny titties and hard nipples set his balls juddering and suddenly both started to blow his sticky load which began ejaculating through his little dick directly into Mrs. Dong's mouth.
While she had occasionally let men indulge in the ancient art of bukkake with her, nothing had prepared Mrs. Dong for the flood of hot sperm that gushed from her esteemed boss's dick. She quickly managed to gag down the first three or four spurts, in her experience usually the limit to a man's production, with Mr. Plunketting she was learning that wasn't always the case, as jet after jet of thick sperm gushed into her mouth, ran down over chin where it hang for a moment before trickling down and onto her little tits. She did her best to gulp down as much of Mr. Plunketting's rich brew as possible, but his cock had now popped out of her mouth and was spurting sticky goo all over Mrs. Dong's face, getting into her eyes, up her nose and plastering her exposed titties.
At long last Mr. Plunketting's miraculous balls stopped coating Mrs. Dong with hot sperm. 'A highly successful conclusion to our business, I am always excited to welcome a new partner on board', said Mr. Plunketting and with a flourish produced a large Plunketting's embossed handkerchief, and handed it to Mrs. Dong, who started to mop up her sperm coated tits and face. She swirled the last of the thick white goo around her mouth and swallowed it down, vowing to wash her mouth out with Sake as soon as she could. She only hoped that her husband didn't expect a bukkake ceremony this evening when she told him of her partnership, she felt sure that she would not be able to stomach another drop of sperm for some time to come.
'Excellent indeed, Mrs. Dong, you had better pop your panties back on and get back to it, there is no rest for partners at Plunketting's!', said Mr. Plunketting. 'Hi! Res! Mr. Prunketing’ replied Mrs. Dong and bowed slightly. She carefully finished wiping the sperm from her face and little titties, fastened the buttons on her blouse and pulled her pink panties over her neat little pumps and tottered from the room, her mouth still tasting of thick sperm.
Mr. Plunketting reached for his humidor, and happy that his day had started with another successful deal reached for and lit a Ghurkha's 'His Majesty' cigar before turning to review his appointment book. Duty was never over, and it was going to be another busy day.
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