Authors: Kay Jaybee
A Sticky Situation by Kay Jaybee
‘YOU HAVE GOT TO be joking!’
Carol couldn’t help but laugh at the look on her friend’s face. Sally’s features were a picture of distasteful disbelief.
‘Just my luck! Why does it have to be him? I thought Graham was coming to the Oxford conference with me. What the hell does Cameron bloody James know about marketing this stuff anyway?’
Pouring out a strong espresso, and forcing the small polystyrene cup between Sally’s irate fingers, Carol sat back at her desk, glancing around the open plan office as their fellow workers arrived to start the day at Zelcon Pharmaceuticals. ‘Apparently he has a background in marketing and science.’
Sally flinched as she burnt her lip on the steaming coffee, slopping a few drips down her front. Absentmindedly dabbing a tissue at the caffeine patch, she said, ‘I thought he’d come from some hot shot job in the city; all bank balances and bravado?’
Carol shrugged. ‘Before that he was a chemist. Worked at some big drug company in the States. I heard Graham telling his PA how good Cameron was at selling stuff, and that he was going to step aside for him.’
Sally’s groan was stifled by the plastic cup, ‘So I shouldn’t get my hopes up at Graham changing his mind then?’
‘There’s not a hope!’ Carol leant forward and switched on her computer screen.
‘But Cameron is such a ... such a ...’
‘Totally arrogant arse?’ Carol finished her sentence for her.
Carol kept her eyes fixed on her monitor as she added, ‘A good looking arrogant arse though.’
Sally threw a pencil at her.
Cameron James stared through the glass partition that separated his room from the main open plan set up. Four desks faced each other in two rows. The occupants of the seats, all women, hammered at their keyboards, while simultaneously answering the phone, sipping tea, chatting, and carrying pieces of paper from A to B, without any of them appearing to miss a thing. He had always envied a woman’s ability to multitask, and knew from the groups’ track record, that they were an excellent team; but he wasn’t about to tell them that. Not until they’d earned his respect, just as they had earned Graham’s.
His dark hazel eyes rested on Sally as she perched on her swivel chair, her expression a mask of concentration as it studied whatever was on her screen. Unless of course, she was simply concentrating on not falling off her chair? Graham had sworn to him that Sally was the best saleswoman they had, and yet Cameron doubted it. He had never met anyone so clumsy in his life. How could she possibly make a good impression for Zelcon, if she was dropping flyers and accidently spilling champagne every five minutes during the conference trade fairs?
Sally Briers just didn’t come across as the efficient sort; yet Graham knew his stuff, and if he was going to take over from him once Graham made his retirement public, then Cameron supposed he’d have to trust his judgement. It didn’t matter that he had secretly found himself imagining how good it might be to lap up anything Sally spilt on her short curvy body. That was just fantasy stuff. This was business, and there would be staff adjustments once his boss had stepped aside, especially if she let him down next week.
Turning his attention back to the list of things that needed doing by Friday, Cameron realised he’d have to have a meeting with Sally soon, just to make sure she knew he was in charge, and how he liked things done. At least, Cameron thought to himself as he scrolled his cursor across the page, she’s pretty. Perhaps she uses that smile and her figure to win over the punters? Somehow her chest, although not huge, was always “there”, hovering on the edge of his consciousness. Probably, Cameron thought, because it’s always got crumbs or printer ink or something smeared across it!
Cameron shook his head. Anyone looking at Sally would see the day’s new stains on her jacket lapels before they noticed her wide emerald eyes and the cute little crinkles that formed at the side of her lips when she grinned. He felt his crotch stir as he thought about her, and then quickly dispelled the image he was creating in his mind. He really would have to caution her to take more care once she was out in the world being part of the face of Zelcon.
He was well aware Sally didn’t like him much. No one did. He had walked into the company and got promoted above them all in a matter of six months. Cameron had deliberately kept his distance from most of the office staff. His career plan didn’t involve getting caught up in gossipy water-cooler moments. Anyway, if he and Sally were going away to work together, Cameron knew he couldn’t let his self-control slip and accidently reveal that he thought her physically attractive. Getting the brush off from a junior member of staff who thought him an arrogant bighead would be too embarrassing; and she’d probably tell Carol, and then the whole office would know. Ignoring the stiffening of his shaft as his imagination was reluctantly called into check, Cameron returned to his work.
‘You appear to have something on your cheek?’
Sally hastily scrubbed at the blob of cream that had oozed out of her “Friday Afternoon Treat” doughnut, her cheeks flushing. Every time she met Cameron James she seemed to be covered in something or other. Why does he always have to turn up whenever I’m having one of my uncoordinated moments?
‘You asked to see me?’ She spoke haughtily, already on the defensive.
‘Just double checking that you were sorted for Wednesday? Posters all ready for the stand, flyers delivered, pens and other giveaways all in place?’
‘Of course. I did it all last week, I did tell you.’ Sally was aware she sounded blunt, if not rude, something she would never have done with Graham. He had always double checked everything as well, but somehow he hadn’t made her feel like a naughty schoolgirl who’d been skiving behind the bike sheds instead of working, just because she’d had her usual once a week 10-minute-teabreak away from her desk.
‘Well, good.’ Cameron folded his arms and sat on the edge of his desk, ‘I hope you’ll manage to help me market our new line without half your dinner on your clothes.’
‘I’m not that clumsy!’
‘Really?’ Cameron couldn’t help let a small smile escape through his eyes, but the rest of his expression remained frozen as he went on, ‘Graham tells me you’re the best at this; at enchanting the delegates into investing in Zelcon, but I fail to see how the best can also be so messy. I don’t think I have even seen you without some sort of substance across you somewhere. I hope you won’t let me down.’
He hadn’t meant to say it like that. He had intended to calmly ask her to be a bit more careful as so much rested on this promotion; not just for the company, but for him, as it was his first conference for them. Sally’s crimson face, as she carefully chose her response confirmed for Cameron, that he’d pitched his concerns in completely the wrong way.
‘I have never let this company down. I would certainly never let Graham down.’ Sally almost hissed her reply, emphasising her real boss’s name as she lifted her small rounded chin, pointing it at Cameron as if challenging him. ‘Was there anything else, or can I get on with my job so I can make sure we have train and hotel tickets?’
‘Oh …’ Cameron stood up, turning his back on her briefly as he returned to his desk, ‘Didn’t Graham tell you? I shall need my hotel room booked, but I’m driving up, so no train tickets for me. I’ll meet you there. Best get on then. See you in Oxford, Miss Briers.’
Sally managed to resist slamming his door behind her as she stalked out and thumped back onto her chair.
‘All right?’ Carol grinned knowingly.
‘You might have told me I was covered in cream cake!’
‘Sorry sweetie, I didn’t notice.’ Carol lifted her eyes from her monitor to scrutinise her friend’s appearance, ‘there’s a bit on your left boob as well.’
Sally peered at the mess and sighed. Why am I like this? Ripping a tissue from the box on her desk she rubbed the synthetic white cream into her grey shirt, wondering if Cameron had noticed that as well. He probably had, no wonder he’d had that arrogant glint in his eyes when he stared at her. ‘Three whole days with Mr Perfect; what have I done to deserve this?’
‘You never know …’ Carol’s eyes twinkled mischievously. ‘… You might just have fun together.’
Sally rolled her eyes and started to detract the email request for two sets of train tickets, ‘He’s a womanising, arrogant, too-smooth-to-be-true, upstart.’
‘That’s office gossip; you don’t know if any of that is really true. He might have hidden depths.’
Tired of Carol’s lifelong mission to see her living happily ever after, rather than bouncing from one failed relationship to another, Sally’s tone firmly closed the subject, ‘Not a hope.’
Cameron sat on his chair; his eyes straying from his work to Sally and back again. He wasn’t entirely sure how he hadn’t pulled her forward and licked the spilt cake off her chest. He closed his eyes; this was going to have to stop. He wasn’t even sure he liked the woman. They’d never managed a civil conversation. She was so damn spiky whenever he was around. If they were going to be in each other’s company for three whole days, he was going to have to cut the fantasies he kept having about her right out.
Just as well he’d followed his gut instinct and decided to travel separately; the second she ordered a cup of tea from the train’s buffet car, he’d probably have got it slopped all over his crotch.
OVER THE NEXT FEW days Sally persuaded herself she would enjoy the conference, even if Cameron was going to be there playing the “big boss”. Unlike the others in the marketing department, it didn’t bother Sally that he was senior to her. She was very happy with her job; it was challenging and diverting enough without the extra stress and political game playing that went with climbing the greasy pole to the top. It was being made to feel like the office junior she wasn’t so keen on.
Going on these conference trips was the part of Sally’s job that she loved the most. The getting out there and talking to people, expounding on the benefits of investing in Zelcon; promoting the benefits of sponsorship deals, post doctorate placements, and explaining about the fellowships they could support and fund; not to mention their in-house medical research products that always sold far better than those of their nearest competitors. Sally knew her field well, despite what Cameron James might think.
She was confident she would know a good few of her fellow trade stall holders as well as many of the delegates. The British Research Chemist’s Convention was a big deal, and as a regular event, the same faces tended to crop up every year.
As this was Sally’s fourth time at this typically “businessman” styled hotel, she knew exactly what to expect and where to go on arrival. Having checked in with her usual speed, only managing to get a tiny bit of pen ink on her hands as she signed in, Sally made sure that all of Zelcon’s display materials had been couriered ahead of her as planned, before doing what she had been looking forward to most. Crashing out on the plush double bed in the privacy of her room.
Dumping her holdall without ceremony, relieved to be in the one place where it didn’t matter if she got half a can of cola down her chin, Sally kicked off her comfy travelling shoes, letting her feet luxuriate in some well deserved air, prior to them being held prisoner in stupidly high heels for the next few days.
In an hour she would have to start being Miss Sally Briers, “marketing queen”, but for now she could simply rest. Closing her eyes, Sally’s imagination returned to the pages of the book she’d been reading on the train. Carol had thrust it into her hand as she’d deposited her at the station, telling her it would relax her, but all it had done was make Sally regret telling Carol about her, well- built-tradesmen-with-tattoo, fantasy. She had become horny to the point where she’d wondered if she could risk losing her seat to someone else while she nipped into the toilet cubicle to give herself a good seeing to.
At last she could work off the ache that the erotic novel had caused in her clit. Keeping her eyes shut, Sally trailed a hand down her front, undoing the buttons of her shirt, making believe that her hands belonged to the grubby, stubbled, cock-sure garage mechanic who had given the heroine of the story such a thorough fucking.
Peeling open her top, her fingers danced over her breasts as her legs opened wider. Her skirt was already rucked up around her waist, and her bare legs were bent expectantly at the knee. As Sally clutched at her chest, she pictured the fictional mechanic’s mouth landing on her nipples, drawing them out with his tongue. She shoved her bra unceremoniously above her tits, and plucked at her teats, until they were stiff enough to pull at in unison with thoughts of oil stained fingers in her head.
Behind her eyelids, she could clearly see him strip away his dirty boiler suit, before his large nail-blunted hands roamed roughly over her body; the bulky man’s jeans barely holding the bulge at his groin. Sliding her palm downwards, tracing the line of her waistband, she could see her fantasy man’s digits reach out to undo his belt, and ease his erect shaft from his clothing. As her imaginary lover stroked his tip over her panty covered clit, Sally tucked a finger inside her knickers and ran it along the folds of her snatch.
Raising her hips, Sally manhandled her clit harder, while wetting a finger and using it to massage her right nipple, feeling little flickers of electricity sparking within her stomach, she continued to caress herself, visualising Cameron as he lowered his lips to her nub and ... Cameron!
Sally’s eyes flew open, and her hands were temporarily immobilised in position against her fast dampening pussy and her chest. How did he elbow his way into my perfect “bit of rough” fantasy!
It was all Carol’s fault. She’d gone on and on in the car, winding Sally up about hotel flings, and how Cameron might not be so bad after all.
Almost imperceptibly, Sally’s fingertips started to move across her slit again, too far along the road towards climax to want to stop just because Cameron bloody James had interrupted her seam of concentration.
Clamping her clear green eyes shut, Sally sank deeper against her pillows, searching for the image of her greasy, sweetly sweaty, tattooed, dream lover.
Drumming her fingers with increasing pace over her pussy, pushing two digits inside her channel, she swirled sticky moisture around her hole. Pinching her left and then right nipples in quick rotation, Sally’s mind jumped between shots of her heavy voiced mechanic and the smooth physique of her senior colleague.
Close to the edge, Sally pressed onwards, making her hips rise to meet her own fingers as a third slipped inside her. With a final tug at her full creamy flesh, she juddered; mewls of personal pleasure escaping from her lips, her brain continuing to merge the visions in her head, creating a tattooed hero who looked frighteningly like Cameron James in oil spattered overalls.
Catching her breath, Sally allowed her pulse to stop thudding in her ears before she swung her legs so that she was sitting on the edge of the bed. ‘Bloody Cameron, bloody James!!!’ She scooped up a towel and headed to the shower, ‘I can’t even have a wank without him butting in!’
The hotel room was rather better than he’d been expecting. Cameron scanned the ample cupboard space, flat screen television, well stocked mini bar and powerful shower. Graham had told him that Sally had been an advisor to the panel that set up the British Research Chemists’ Annual Meeting, and had been responsible for suggesting this Oxford based hotel. Therefore, Cameron had expected something shabbier. The place was pristine however, and if the menu he had examined by the restaurant doors was anything to go by, the food here would be excellent as well.
On the drive up from Bristol, Cameron had found his mind drifting to Sally on more than one occasion, half hoping like hell she would really be as good at her job as Graham had promised, and half wondering if he should start to listen to the growing voice at the back of his head, telling him he really should get to know her better. He wished he didn’t find her quite so attractive. His eyes fell to the king sized bed in the middle of the room, and instantly he saw Sally with him, naked while he tongue-lapped her tits. ‘This has got to stop!’ Cameron addressed the room as a whole as he hung up his brand new leather jacket, kicked off his polished black shoes, and dug his crisp new shirt and suit out of his luggage.
Sally surveyed the scene with satisfaction. The conference itself had started that morning, but the trade stands were not expected to be manned until the delegates had their late afternoon break. Nodding a friendly greeting to the familiar and new faces of the marketing personnel from rival companies, Sally straightened the poster that hung from the front of her stand, making sure it was positioned perfectly level with both the floor and the top of the table. She may have been a clumsy disaster in most situations, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t try to be a perfectionist when it really mattered.
Splaying out a collection of Zelcon Pharmaceutical pens, coasters and mouse mats, Sally ensured that every set of leaflets concerning all Zelcon’s enterprises were on show, with spares hidden beneath the table. A collection of champagne glasses stood to attention, with two buckets of ice chilling the first of many complimentary bottles of fizz that Zelcon would give out during the next three days. Happy that everything was in order, Sally took a quick glance around. There was still no sign of Cameron, even though the delegates were expected to start browsing the stands in only ten minutes.
There was just time to zip to the Ladies’ cloakroom to check she hadn’t got anything on the front of her smart grey dress before the performance began. To Sally it really did feel like stepping out onto a stage. The adrenaline pumped around her system as she charmed and gently persuaded the men and women in attendance that they really did want to do business with Zelcon. Somehow, as she stood there, smiling and chatting happily, it was as if she was someone else. Not just clumsy Sally Briers.
Washing her hands, and reapplying some clear lip gloss, she made sure her make-up was subtle enough to be noticed, but not too “in your face”. Her dress was still clean, and the V-neck that suggested what lay beneath her clothes, rather than showing it off, sat central to her cleavage. With a silent apology to her already aching feet in her silver heels, which she needed so she didn’t feel quite so short beside Cameron’s 6ft 2 frame, Sally took a steadying breath and headed back to the stand.
‘Where the hell have you been?’ Cameron, his hands on his hips, looked less like her boss, and more like a toddler about to throw his toys from the pram.
Rather than feel angry, Sally had to resist the sudden urge to laugh. Speaking very calmly, she replied, ‘The Ladies’ if you must know. I like to get here early, check everything, and then make sure I am presentable before things kick off. If you’d been here to help me set things up, you’d have known that.’
Cameron opened his mouth to reply, but Sally had turned her back on him, and was rummaging around in a cardboard box hidden under the black tablecloth that covered their stand.
Her lightly pinstriped grey dress fitted snugly against her backside as she bent down, and Cameron couldn’t help but stare for a second, as she successfully negotiated her inch high heels while she took some napkins from the box, to place next to the champagne bottles, ready to pour the first few glasses.
Cameron braced himself; sure Sally would fall off her heels, twist her ankle, and slop the golden liquid over the sides of the waiting flutes. He wasn’t quite sure he could believe it when she managed not to dribble even the tiniest trickle down the side of the bottle neck.
‘What is it?’ Sally caught him peering at her strangely.
‘Nothing. Nothing at all.’ Cameron took up his position next to her behind the stand as the first of the day’s delegates began to filter through the doors.
Sally smiled to herself, ‘You thought I’d spill it, didn’t you?’
Cameron didn’t reply, but the briefest glimpse of a shining smile in his eyes told her that her suspicions had been correct.