Contract to Fulltime


When I first started contracting at the company, I thought Karen was overweight. Turned out, she was just pregnant. I never asked really, as my less than stellar social skills meant there would be no good way to broach that subject. I found out just by listening to the office conversation around me. As the project manager and coordinator, I had to interact with her kind of regularly during my job. Email, IM, or occasional conversations in her office became a regular part of the job. I quickly learned she was very sarcastic, much like myself, sometimes even more so. She delivered countless jabs and barbs when I did something wrong, no matter how minor, and made every compliment backhanded. I responded in kind, belittling her information management or chiding her poor interpersonal skills with the development team. Overall, it was friendly and spirited. When my sister came to visit, she learned that some of my family use to call me Davey when I was little, and that became a frequent taunt when she learned how much I hated it.

After two months, she took time off to have the baby, which I had learned was her second. She was out for a month, and then worked from home part time for another month before coming back into the office full time. She continued to wear somewhat baggy shirts and jeans or skirts to downplay the extra weight she was still carrying. When I learned her two children had come nearly back to back after getting married, I realized she must have gained and kept a lot weight for a couple of years now. Still, she had a lovely, if round, face and deep brown eyes and long, luxurious brown hair that diverted most attention away from her body. It was also apparent that her breasts had enlarged a bit due to the pregnancy, and this helped her proportions along with the baggy clothes. Things between Karen and I were about to change radically though.

“Hey, you want to walk,” popped up on my IM.

“Walk where? Are we off for a walkabout in the Outback?” I replied.

“No you goofball, just around the building. I’ve started back to the gym in the evenings, but I also need to walk twice a day, morning and afternoon.”

“Working off the baby fat, eh?”

“Well, that’s not very nice, but yes. I could use a partner to keep me motivated.”

“Ok, sure, I’ll walk. If I bring a whip, is that considered motivation?”

“Ha! No, but the thought is appreciated. See you in a few.”

We walked a circle around the office complex where our office was located. Karen had changed into different clothes, and I made a mental note to start keeping a second set of clothes at the office. I wasn’t sure how intense this would eventually become, and no one likes a ripe co-worker. When she called a halt after only a couple of laps I had her stop for a picture with my phone.

“What are you doing,” she asked.

“Motivational stuff, don’t worry about it.” She was wearing baggy clothes but I figured documenting the weight loss visually might help at some point. I snapped a quick picture, which she inevitably complained that she wasn’t ready for or blinked or something, which I promptly ignored. We went back to work and I got lost in the latest coding problem that had landed on my desk.

“So I hear you’ve been slacking off while I was gone. I’ve caught up with the other developers on their projects, but still need to go over yours. You want to catch me up over lunch?” The IM blinked up on the screen near noon. Same old Karen, I thought to myself.

I replied quickly. “You’ve always been a little slow, so I’ll do my best to keep you abreast of what I’ve been up to. I’ll meet you out front in 5.”

A few minutes later we were headed to a nearby restaurant. The waitress was young, blonde, and scantily clad, which made me wonder why Karen chose to come here. She might have been reading my mind because she immediately said, “this place has the best salads.” This struck me as odd, as she had never struck me as the food conscious type. Apparently exercise wasn’t the only change. I didn’t give it much thought though as I was engrossed in watching the swaying ass of our departing waitress.

“Don’t stare you perv, it’s rude,” Karen chastised me. “She has to be half your age. Is your girlfriend not taking care of you at home or something?”

That comment snapped me back to reality; as such a personal statement was way out of character for her. I was flustered and a little embarrassed as I finally looked back at Karen. “I… I’m not sure that’s any of your business,” I said trying to sound offended and failing.

“It is if it starts affecting your job performance,” Karen quipped. There was an odd pause here and she seemed to be thinking or hesitating on her next comment. It was very brief and I was not sure what was going on and I thought I might have imagined it. Then she said, “if her poor performance starts affecting you, I’ll have to take matters into my own hands.” She broke into a mischievous smile and her eyes were glinting with playfulness, but there was a küçükçekmece escort hint of nervousness behind it all. The sarcasm and jabs had just entered a whole new arena. I was struck silent for a moment, completely unsure of how to respond. I felt my nervousness rise as I shifted in my chair. “I can’t have our best developer performing at anything other than top form,” she continued and I could hear a hint of pleading in her voice.

“That… that sounds like an intriguing… incentive plan,” I said somewhat neutrally. Fortunately, the waitress returned with our food at that moment and I was spared from trying to say anything else. When she left, I couldn’t help it, and watched her sway away again.

“Don’t you think her boobs are kind of small,” Karen asked.

“Actually, I like small boo…,” I started and then blushed and clamped a hand over my mouth to stop myself. Karen actually laughed.

“Relax,” she said. “I’m not going to write you up for bad lunch behavior.” She scrunched her arms together compressing her own breasts and looked down at them. “Sadly, once this added size disappears, mine will be back to being ugly. Breastfeeding two babies have taken a toll, and they aren’t what they used to be.”

“Better enjoy them while you can then,” I replied quickly getting back into my jabbing role. I was rewarded with a pleasant smile.

“That’s an excellent idea,” she said and then dropped the subject entirely to begin eating. The rest of lunch passed uneventfully and she rounded me up for another walking session in the middle of the afternoon during which she grilled me about how my sister was doing.

Over the next week, the word play took on a decidedly sexual tone. Any time I faltered or hesitated, Karen would simply jab me harder to force a reaction. It was a little nerve-wracking, not the least because of problems with my girlfriend. Her lunch comment had hit closer to the mark then she knew. Was it all rather inappropriate workplace behavior? Absolutely! But she persisted anyway. Close to the end of the day a couple of weeks after Karen had come back, she sent an IM asking me to come decipher some programmer speak from one of the contractors status reports.

“Hey, I need you to take a look at something and tell me what you think,” she said as I came into her office. As I came around the side of her desk to look at what she had up on her monitor, I noticed that her button up shirt was not entirely… buttoned up. There was a lot of cleavage on display, and being the red blooded male that I was, I could not help but look while she chattered and gestured at the status report. I swear, I think she arched her back while this went on, but I could have imagined it.

“Well, his description may be a bit soft, but the delivery dates are firm,” I said smoothly. “What’s the problem?”

“Well, can he actually deliver on all that? I have no idea how complex any of that is,” she replied without looking up.

“With proper support, anyone can stand out,” I said evenly. “I don’t see any bumps in the way of completion,” I added with a hint of sadness.

Karen actually stifled a laugh before she said, “ok, I guess you have good insight, and I’ll trust your judgment. I’ll be sure to let you know if I see any bumps in the road, though.”

This routine repeated about once a week. After about a month, another button on the shirt came undone and bra could be seen. If she didn’t call me behind her desk to look at the screen, she would run her hand down the fold of her shirt while I sat in a chair, being sure my attention was drawn where she wanted it. It was nerve-wracking and exciting both at the same time. She always did this at the end of the day, when all or most of the other contractors were gone and I found myself staying later to facilitate her shows. She was obviously enjoying her larger boobs while she could.

The exercise routine also continued, and my idea to bring in a second set of clothes also proved useful as she began to push both of us on a brisker pace. This was also her time to chatter about everything and anything non-work related. We were soon getting to know each other well, and becoming friends, rather than just co-workers. She always avoided talking about her husband though, which I found very strange. At the two month mark, she became frustrated, because she said her weight loss had stopped. She was wavering and considering quitting. I immediately stopped her and took a picture with my phone. I then made her look at it and the previous one from several weeks ago. Even though she continued to wear baggy clothing, the changes were obvious and I did my best to point them out positively and give her motivational compliments and phrases to keep her going. The change was most evident in her face as it started to lose some of its round shape. Eventually she agreed and righted her mental state and we took off with renewed vigor.

The very next day I got my weekly call to her küçükyalı escort office again, and learned her exercise wasn’t the only thing she amped up. She had two buttons undone on her shirt, but she had also removed her bra. There still didn’t seem to be any sagging, but I knew breast feeding continued for four months or more normally. It was nice to see what the bra was previously hiding, but also frustrating that I could not see all that I wanted. I noted that her nipples were hard and pressing sharply against her shirt. I immediately asked if she had spotted any bumps in our project plan. She blushed slightly in response, but jumped into the conversation quickly. This time when I left, I could have sworn she looked briefly at my crotch before up to my face. She might have gotten to see something too, since I was partially aroused by this new step up in her game.

Again, this new behavior continued for a couple of months. In that time, my girlfriend grew more distant, or perhaps I was growing more distant due to the distractions of work and Karen. She was driving me nuts, actually. It wasn’t long before the girlfriend left and my frustration at work ramped up even further. After five months, Karen’s workout routine plateaued again, and I had to take yet another picture and do my best to encourage her. I did so earnestly because, while she still wore her baggy clothes, they were becoming smaller and her office attire was starting to show off the parts of her body she felt were improving enough.

After six months I noticed the bra come back and her game shifted. Now she would sit on the sofa on the perimeter of her office and do her best Basic Instinct routine in a variety of somewhat short skirts, slowly un-crossing and re-crossing her legs. She would then ask me a question that required a color as an answer. I was fairly dense the first time and she had to re-ask the question a few times before I figured out she wanted me to indicate I had seen what she was showing by telling her the color of her panties. I played along dutifully and grew increasingly frustrated as I did.

But, when her workouts started to taper again, I still aggressively motivated her to keep going and gathered yet another picture to help. To be honest, all the walking had affected me as well, as I had dropped around fifteen pounds. Of course, every lunch with Karen also involved healthier food, so that probably had something to do with it as well. Only my soda caffeine addiction kept me from more significant weight loss.

My frustration finally boiled over at the nine month mark. This office visit was not even work related. She was asking my opinion on a wooden knickknack she had picked up at an estate auction over the weekend. She slowly un-crossed and re-crossed her legs and then asked what color she should paint the item. I decided it was time to push this game in a new direction and take away some of her control.

“To be honest, I think you should strip it bare, rub in some good oil and let the natural beauty of it come out.” I was calling her out, and I was fairly certain that all of this play would finally come to an end because I did not expect her to follow through. She blushed a brighter red than I’ve ever seen before.

“That’s… I’m not sure…” she stammered. “It’s an interesting idea. I will give it some thought,” she finally answered and let me go.

The following week she surprised me yet again. I don’t even remember the exact conversation about that stupid wooden knickknack, and the room fell completely silent when she moved her legs through her routine. She had no panties, she had shaved completely, and I swear the area glistened, whether from actual oil or her own arousal, I don’t know. She was blushing furiously the whole time she did this. I was stunned and could not speak for several moments. I tried to remember what she asked and gave up.

“Very nice,” I said softly. “A real conversation piece.”

This went on for another two months. I had hoped to bring an end to the game, and my torture, but had only succeeded in ramping it up all over again. The frustration quickly began to set in again. Then she disappeared for a week for time off. I have no idea where she went or what she did, as she never mentioned it beforehand. I missed the teasing but my frustration thankfully began to abate a little. But I also missed the company during the walks. It was there I missed hearing her ramble on about some random topic or needle me for details about myself.

When she returned, her office clothing was no longer strictly baggy, though she kept things fairly demure. She still wore skirts and picked up with her teasing the day she returned, and now she was calling me into her office twice a week. A few weeks later, on a Friday she IM’d me early saying she needed to go over some paper work with me before I left that night, and of course I agreed. It was a Friday before a holiday weekend, many people had taken the day off maltepe escort and the office was empty by four o’clock.

“Hey, you want to go over that paper work and get out of here early, or do we need to wait until five,” I IM’d her. The response took a little longer than normal, and I started to get up and go see if she was still in her office when I heard the computer beep at me.

“Sorry, was changing for the gym. We can go over it now, I don’t want to keep you late without reason,” she replied. I shut down my computer and headed toward her office. When I opened the door and entered, I stopped dead after only one step.

“Wow,” I whispered without thinking. Karen stood there turned slightly away from me in a pair of yoga shorts and a sports bra reading some papers in a folder. Her arms and legs were lean and toned. Her stomach was flat and taut and my palms itched with the desire to let my hands roam across it. Her ass was firm and round with barely any sag at all noticeable. The material of the shorts was quite thin, and it was obvious she was not wearing panties, or even a thong. Her breasts were the biggest surprise. They seemed smaller and firmer, and I now had a good idea about what she had done during her week off.

“Close the door please,” she said rather curtly. I did so quickly and went back to letting my eyes wander over her.

“Don’t stare you perv, it’s rude,” she said. The curtness was gone and I could hear the playfulness and teasing back again.

“You know you look fucking amazing, right,” I answered quickly. To which she blushed, but also smiled and turned her head toward me.

“Tsk, such language. Am I going to have to write you up?”

“Go ahead,” I said. “Make sure you put down exactly what I said. You… know… you… look… fucking… amazing… right,” I said it again slower and emphasized. “Also, make sure you note what you were wearing when I said it so they’ll fully understand. Seriously, your husband must be going bonkers if your workouts have paid off this well.” Her face grew troubled, but it quickly vanished as she turned toward me and walked over to where I still stood by the door.

“We are not here to discuss my husband,” she started. She was very close to me when she finished talking, with a teasing smile on her lips and a taunting glint to her eyes. And her hand was on my cock, slowly stroking me through my jeans. “We are here to discuss your performance and whether we need to expand your incentive package.” She continued to stroke me as she spoke, just strongly enough to fully harden me, but not enough to provide any enjoyment. When I was fully hard a look of shock appeared on her face and she looked down. Something snapped in me as I looked at her.

I grabbed her around the waist and turned her, pushing her solidly back against the door with a thud. My right hand snaked up her back and each contact with her skin felt electric. I continued upward through her hair until I bumped into the base of her head. I think she was probably shocked by my behavior, but she was looking down so I could not see her face any longer. I curled my right hand into a fist in her hair and pulled back hard, forcing her to look up at me.

“I am well and truly done being teased,” I said angrily. Then I kissed her. It was not, however, a kiss. This was an assault, an attack with my mouth fueled by frustration and anger. Amazingly, Karen did not protest or cry out at all. Instead I felt her body melt into me and her mouth yielded to every aggressive thing I did. She seemed to draw more and more of me into her until my anger finally let up enough to pull away from her. When I did she went back to softly stroking my cock through my jeans, and my anger flared again leading to another assault. This repeated twice more before I became fed up.

“You fucking tease,” I growled as she continued to gently stroke me. I grabbed her hair again and pushed her toward her desk. I came up behind her and violently forced her hips into the edge of her desk as I pressed my erection against her ass.

“Easy baby, play nice.”

“Fuck you,” I replied. “And fuck being nice. For a year I’ve been nice, only to have you taunt and tease me day in and day out. Always staying out of reach and out of contact.” I pulled her hair again to draw her back and nipped at her neck with my teeth. “Now we’ll see what all your teasing gets you.” I bent down and drug her yoga shorts to the floor violently. I noticed she quickly stepped out of them when they hit the floor, and I also noticed that the crotch was dark with a wet stain. I could smell her odor on them and it drove me even crazier. As I stood I grabbed the bottom of her sports bra and Karen immediately raised her arms up for me to remove it. She tried to turn as I unzipped my pants, but I pushed her back toward the desk. I wanted control and she was going to do what I wanted now. But some part of me finally relented as I began to push into her, and I slowed my entrance.

“Yes, that’s it Davey, easy baby.”

“Bitch! I told you not to call me that!” And with that I thrust my entire length into her in one go. It was obvious immediately that she was not prepared for my eight inches and hefty girth. She grunted in pain, and if not for how wet she already was, it might have been very bad. “Damn, so tight,” I exclaimed when I hit bottom.

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