Office Perks (7 page)

‘What's the joke, Miss Perks?'

‘I was thinking of Niall Flynn, who I told you about, only like we did Keith.'

‘Oh no, not to a guy like that, never!'

‘Why not?'

Sophie's ears pricked up, and she got in before I could discover why Bobbie thought Niall should be immune from what she'd just dished out to Keith with such glee. In my view he was a far more deserving case.

‘What's this? Who's Niall Flynn?'

I felt a blush start to rise as I struggled to find a good answer, but Bobbie was already talking.

‘This guy Lucy knows, a real bastard. He made her suck him off in return for a good reference for the SS, and . . . wait for it . . . lick his balls and arse!'

Her voice was full of relish, and I found myself blushing hot as Sophie burst into giggles. I was going to admit I'd exaggerated, but Bobbie was obviously envious of me, maybe Sophie too, for all her arch response.

‘What a disgrace, Miss Perks. Bribery and corruption, cock-sucking, rimming . . .'

‘But he made me, like Bobbie said.'

The expression on her face showed just how much she believed me. I stuck my tongue out at her, just as a squat, balding man appeared in the doorway, glancing around the pub.

‘Cab for Chakravathi?'

Sophie answered him.

‘That's us.'

He gave her an odd look as we quickly swallowed our drinks. Bobbie spoke to me as we reached the door.

‘Where does he go? Niall Flynn, I mean.'

‘There's this drinking club above a kebab shop . . . no, Bobbie, we are not going there!'

‘Why not?'

‘My brother will be there for a start.'

‘So?'

‘So everything. Ryan doesn't know, and he'd kill Niall.'

‘We're not going to tell her brother, are we, Sophie? Call Niall up, tell him to meet us.'

‘No! Anyway, why?'

‘I want to meet him.'

‘I want to watch you go down on him.'

‘Sophie!'

The cabby had heard every word we'd said, and turned us a dirty leer as he climbed in. We squeezed into the back, with Bobbie in the middle, and before I'd realised what was happening Sophie had snatched my bag and was rummaging in it.

‘What are you doing?'

It was a silly question. I knew. She was going to phone Niall. Whatever happened, it could only mean trouble,
and I grabbed out as she pulled my mobile from the bag. Sophie was laughing and talking to herself as I grappled for the phone.

‘Niall Flynn . . . Niall Flynn . . . got him! Hold her down, Bobbie!'

Bobbie grabbed me, trying to pull my arms away as I fought to get at the phone. Sophie was holding it right up against the window, and I couldn't reach. I got her wrist, though, tugging hard even as she pressed the call button. The phone went on the floor, Bobbie let go and I sprawled across her lap as the cab started to move. The next instant I'd been grabbed around the waist and Bobbie was laughing and smacking my bottom. I didn't care, scrabbling for the phone under Sophie's feet. She kicked it away, but I snatched it up from under the chair, pressing the button to cancel the call just as the cabby finally lost patience.

‘Leave it out, or you can fucking walk!'

Sophie answered him, telling him to shut up and drive, but she stopped, and Bobbie let me up. I was laughing as I sat back, and flourished the phone at Sophie, only to have to grab at the seat in front to stop myself being thrown back across Bobbie's lap as the cabby took a violent corner.

‘Hey, this isn't a fucking speedway!' I shouted.

He ignored us, joining the flow of cars on some highroad or other, just as my phone went. Sensible Lucy would have realised who it was going to be and ignored it, or at least checked the incoming number. Drunken, flustered Lucy answered it – to Niall Flynn, inevitably.

‘Hi Niall . . . yes, it's me . . . no, I'm fine . . .'

‘No she's not. She wants your cock.'

‘Shut up, Sophie. No, nothing Niall, just my drunk friend . . . never mind her tits.'

‘Big and round and bouncy, Niall! Fancy a grope?'

‘Sophie! Sorry, Niall, I . . . no she did not say that. OK, she did, but she's pissed.'

‘Where are you, Niall? We'll come round.'

‘Bobbie!'

She'd said it right into the receiver. I hastened to correct her.

‘No, she's just mucking about. Anyway, we're miles away, somewhere in Greenwich, I think. No they are not! They're just pissed, that's all. No, you pervert, I don't care if you've never had a threesome.'

‘Ooh, yes please! I'm up for it, Niall, I want to watch her suck on your balls and lick your arsehole.'

‘Sophie!'

I tried to hit her, pressing disconnect at the same instant, and we were slapping at each other, both laughing. So was Bobbie, but suddenly she'd stopped, grabbed me around my waist and pulled me down over her lap. Sophie grabbed my hair, and before I could protest my skirt had been yanked up, my knickers had been hauled up my crease and my bare bottom was being spanked. Both of them were laughing uproariously, and louder still as I began to struggle and squeak, because it stung like anything. She wasn't going to stop anytime soon either, and the next thing I knew was that the cab had come to a screeching halt.

‘Out!' Bellowed the cab driver.

‘Hey, but . . .'

‘I said out, you mad bitches! Go on with you!'

‘Yes, but . . .'

‘Out!'

‘OK, OK, keep your hair on.'

It was not a good thing to say, not when he had quite so much missing on top. Seconds later we were stranded on the pavement, Sophie giggling, Bobbie looking pissed off, me with my knickers still pulled up my bum.

‘What a wanker!'

‘Yes, you'd think he'd have enjoyed the view. Nice bum, Miss Perks.'

‘Yeah, right, but it doesn't half sting. Let's get another cab.'

It was easier said than done. The pubs had started to empty out, and we had to join a queue outside a cab office. It was half-an-hour before we were headed west, now a lot more subdued. As we came into the Blackwall Tunnel I realised Sophie was asleep, or she'd passed out. Bobbie didn't look much better.

‘Shall we just get dropped off home?'

‘Best get Sophie back. Cabby, forget the West End, go for Archway.'

‘You got it.'

We went, first to Archway, where Bobbie helped Sophie from the cab and into a block of red brick flats. She was going to stay, but I had to get back, and got dropped off at the end of my street a few minutes after midnight. It was quiet, as always, and a little scary, the shadows of the terrace and the privet hedges seeming to hold a thousand menaces. When a tall figure stepped out I nearly jumped out of my skin, only to realise who it was, his rich accent and strong voice infinitely soothing.

‘Back already then, Lucy?'

‘You scared me, Niall!'

I was shaking slightly, and I clung to him by instinct. His hand immediately slipped down to my bottom, squeezing a cheek through my skirt as he went on.

‘I thought you'd be around, and I knew you'd not get dropped at the door.'

‘Thanks.'

He was pawing my bottom, obviously turned on. I was thinking of what he'd overheard on the phone. So was he.

‘What was it your friends were saying back there a while?'

‘You know.'

‘I do, and it just happens that Ryan and your Ma think I've gone to collect you from Greenwich.'

‘They do?'

‘They do that, so how about you and I take a little detour, by my place? Then you can show me just what they meant.'

Oh God. I couldn't stop myself. I was too drunk, too horny, too vulnerable to his masculine charm and the way he just knew he was going to get what he wanted. He steered me toward his house, just a few doors from my own, his hand never leaving my bottom, his long, strong fingers stroking and kneading my cheeks. In the doorway he kissed me, lifting me up on tiptoe to meet his mouth, and still fondling. He'd pulled up my skirt, and went on to pat my bare bottom. I was praying none of the neighbours were watching.

We went straight upstairs, without preamble. My knickers came down, then off. A finger was eased up my pussy as I pulled down his zip, and his cock came out. I went down as before, on my knees in front of him, to suck and lick his cock and his balls and, when I was quite ready, to put my tongue to his arsehole.

31 July, 11.45 a.m. – Lucy Doyle wakes up next to Niall Flynn.

1 August, all day – Lucy Doyle is lectured by her mother, two sisters and one brother, until she finally admits where she spent the night. Family reaction – delight. Oh shit!

2 August, 7.45 a.m. – Lucy Doyle discovers she is no longer working for Emblem Insurance. Instead she is attaching stickers to crates, in Tilbury.

NOT GOOD. NOT
good at all. OK, so the sex was good, but everything else was crap. Niall was great in bed, no question. The tension inside me had been building up all evening, and I just took it out on him. Let's face it, he didn't make me lick every intimate part of him, he let me, because what with Sophie and Bobbie and what we'd done to Keith, I'd never felt so horny in my life. I'd made him come in my face too, deliberately this time, tossing him off as I sucked his balls with my other hand working hard on my clit.

Most men would have crawled into bed and gone to sleep. Not Niall. He asked for a striptease, and he got one. By the time I was nude he was ready again, and I mounted his cock for a long, leisurely shag session. He made me come, again, and that wasn't the end. Even when I went to wash he came up behind me, held me
down over the sink and rubbed himself hard between my cheeks, before giving me another fucking. The last was some time in the dead of night, cuddled together in bed with him on top of me and my thighs spread wide to receive him.

It was good. It was great. I wanted more. I did not want a brief engagement, marriage, and twenty kids, which was what Mum expected of me. So did Mary. Both of them just assumed Niall and I were now an item and would therefore marry. They also assumed I'd drop my place at uni. I didn't even argue, pretending I was tired on the Sunday night and making for bed early.

The discovery that I was on a new assignment, and in Tilbury, really did not help. We'd all assumed we'd have at least another week at Emblem, because there had been loads to do. There still was, as I discovered by ringing Bobbie on the way to Tilbury. She, Sophie, Kanthi and Keith were still there, along with two other temps I didn't know. I'd been moved on, and it was nothing to do with my work. The silver-haired guy I'd called a pervert and told to fuck off was Lucas Sherringham, the Managing Director of Emblem Insurance.

The other person who wasn't there was Talia, and not because she'd been given the boot. She was now shacked up with Lucas Sherringham, apparently in a penthouse flat somewhere in Docklands, with nothing to do but sip champagne and nibble chocolates. Apparently she'd been there all weekend, and he, in her words, was a ‘wonderfully sensitive and mature lover'.

I was brooding over it all the way to Tilbury. It's so easy; flirt and flatter and fuck and in no time you've netted yourself a rich man and you no longer have to worry. Lots of girls did it, and more tried. It made sense too, logically, but I knew I could never do it, not me, not Lucy Doyle. I need to want a man, and I'd rather have
had Keith than Lucas Sherringham, with all his penthouses and champagne and cars, but I knew I wouldn't do it. I was too proud, or too stubborn, or too stupid.

The Tilbury job had to be the dullest ever invented. I was in a huge warehouse, and when I say huge, I mean huge. From the outside it looked like an aircraft hanger. Inside it was almost completely occupied by row upon row of gigantic metal shelves, and every one of them stacked with crates, cases, boxes and packages. Lucy's job? Label the fuckers.

With every lorry that came in, and there were plenty, I had to check exactly what was in each case, feed the information into a program, print out the labels and stick them on the correct boxes. It wasn't difficult, but it was endless. To make it worse, my manageress, Mrs Henshaw, could have given Mrs Tench lessons. She never gave me a moment's peace, and even bawled me out for spending a few minutes chatting to one of the forklift operators.

It was the same all week – up at seven, over an hour to get to work, running around like a blue-arsed fly all day, an hour to get back home, and sinking exhausted into bed. It wasn't even well paid, at eight pounds an hour. Other than swapping endless texts and calls with Bobbie and Sophie, only three things came up to break the monotony: Niall, Todd and Keith.

Niall I expected. After all, my mum now seemed to think he was my fiancé, and even Ryan was all right with it. He came round on the Tuesday, by which time I was more than glad of his company. I liked the comfort of being held in his arms and slowly fucked in the back of his car after being filled up with Powers and Beamish. It left me wrecked the next day, but it was worth it.

Todd was far more of a surprise. I'd had no idea what had happened to him after I'd been booted out of the
Parochial House, and was even wondering if he'd been sacked. He hadn't, because Father Jessop was a hypocritical old bastard, but he had enjoyed his blow-job, and he wanted more. I gave in, after just a little hesitation, taking him into Willesden Lane cemetery to have his cock sucked and let him finger me.

Keith I sort of expected, but had hoped he would have the common sense to realise that while I hadn't been as big a bitch to him as Bobbie or Sophie, that didn't mean I was interested in him. Unfortunately, he didn't seem to have any common sense at all, and was bombarding me with texts – first to thank me, presumably because I hadn't left him to be buggered by bears. Then came the request for a date, which arrived as I was kneeling in the shade of a big yew tree, about to unzip Todd Byrne's trousers. I declined as soon as I'd done my business.