In mitigation, I was a pulsating mass of lust-fueled energy, and so many days of enforced restriction while simultaneously having the dripping pussy of a delicious female constantly smothering my face did put me in something of a precarious position.
Now she was lying there naked before me, such a beautiful sight and with my cock so hard between my legs. I couldn't help but touch it. I knew she had forbidden me, knew that she had threatened me with some kind of punishment, but I was so far gone that just a couple of touches, and suddenly I was losing control, feeling that twinge as the point of no return was reached, and my hot seed was on its way, come what may.
In the split second that I felt myself losing it, I suddenly freaked out that I was going to spray it all over her as she slept, perhaps waking her from her contented slumber to discover my transgression. So I panicked and reached for her neon pink panties, the nearest things available to offer an alternative receptacle.
It felt so dirty coming into her underwear, but the sheer relief from unloading was tremendous.
Only when I was done, my heart rate subsiding once again, I heard Zoey say: "Oh, we're going to have to punish you for that, aren't we, Jones?"
Chapter Eleven
The pitch to RJS went well the next day, though I'd had difficulty sleeping that night, and even during the day's proceedings I felt a constant sense of anxiety, which I could not deny came from my fears about how my exquisite vice president was planning to punish me for the previous evening's transgression.
We came away confident that we had done everything possible to win the account, particularly in the light of the shortened preparation time.
A few of the folks from RJS invited us out for drinks at the end of the day in a little bar on Chestnut Street, which was pleasant enough, but they were all a little older than us, and as it turned out all had families waiting for them, which meant they weren't going to stay out too long.
Zoey had the idea of calling up a few old college friends of hers who now lived in the area. Her calls did not bring results other than one single guy, whose name was Brandon.
I thought he was okay until Zoey revealed they were together back in college, in fact for quite a while. That raised the hackles on the back of my neck. I was able to contain myself, however, concealing my feelings.
"Hey Zo, you remember Billy Keefe?"
"Sure - he was a linebacker, right? Asked you to loan me out to him one time, I seem to remember."
"God, he was an idiot. But you know, I saw him last month at a conference in San Diego - he was asking how you were doing."
Brandon was a big meat-head of a guy, a football player in college, he was a tall, blond Beach Boys type and still powerfully built following the end of his athletic career, with Zoey flirtatiously noting he was still something of a "tight end".
"You know I would never have dated you if you'd gone out with Sheila first."
"Only hit on her to get you fired up."
"You're a bad man, Bran."
The two of them still had a definite chemistry that kept on poking a knife-point into my chest throughout an otherwise pleasant meal. Though Brandon was certainly not the sharpest knife in the drawer, he did have an easy manner and charm that I could see warmed Zoey, although I was mildly surprised that she seemed to tone down the intellectual nature of her conversation around him. Their easy familiarity made me feel threatened, but I was able to calm myself a little by imagining that if they had once had something, they must have explored it far enough back then - there was no need for them to rekindle it.
I didn't really mind Brandon as a person, though I minded his easy flirtation with Zoey and the way she was so warm to him, and in comparison cold to me that evening, referring to me only as a work colleague to her former flame, her approach only seeming to confirm in his mind that she was still available to him, and I was no barrier.
What was she doing? Was she punishing me? Was this punishment for the previous night's transgression, or for the six months of hell I'd put her through after her promotion? Certainly the constant pang of guilt I felt for what I'd done made me feel I deserved something.
Towards the end of the evening, it all stepped up a notch or two.
*
Brandon had just got up to head for the restroom, leaving me alone with Zoey, when she said: "It's time for you to go back to the hotel, Jones."
"Yes, Ms Schoenberg," I said, instantly compliant in the hope that strict obedience would somehow encourage her to end my punishment.
"You'll excuse yourself when Brandon comes back," she said, "and you'll go back to your room on your own."
"Yes, Ma’am."
"You won't close the door between our rooms, you'll open it fully - and you won't turn on a single light in your room. You are to wait in there, and not make a sound, no matter what, understood?"