Harvest Ball
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Harvest Blend: A Special Brew free porn video
Harvest Blend: A Special Brew!
By Keri R.
Synopsis:
Nothing like a good cup of coffee to start the day-and finish it for good.
Stacy has aspirations to move up the corporate ladder in a hurry.
Unfortunately for her boss, a regular guy named Michael, he's the next rung
for her to climb! Coffee anyone?
**************************
Twenty-nine year old Michael Beck had been with the company for nearly 7
years. Carrying a slim build and barely reaching 5 foot nine, he could hardly
rely on the same intimidating tactics that worked for the other upwardly
mobile power brokers in firm. Instead, Michael relied on charm, the power of
negotiation and good old-fashioned work habits to move slowly but surely
toward the top.
Today was special for Michael on two counts. It was his first day holding the
new position of Vice-President-Special Services. Michael was new to this
division, but he wasn't about to complain about a vice-presidency. Second,
there was his new secretary, the serviceable if not seductive Stacy Wellman.
Although this position wasn't new to her, she already had designs on bigger
and better things. It might be a man's world, but it wasn't going to
interfere with her career goals.
She was daydreaming about her new boss, her next step up the corporate ladder
and how to get there when Michael came strolling past her on the way to his
new office. She smiled, adjusted her bra and poured a cup of coffee to greet
him. Her plan was going to work.
"Good morning, Mr. Beck, and might I be the first one to congratulate you on
your promotion. I'm sure you're going to love it here in Special Services."
"Thanks, Stacy, right?"
"Right, Mr. Beck", handing him a steaming cup of coffee.
"Oh, thank you, Stacy. But call me Michael. My father's Mr. Beck."
Stacy offered up her best laugh to ingratiate herself. Michael seemed to like
the attention. It was new to him.
"Okay, Michael," Stacy smiled as motioned to his idle coffee cup sitting on
the desk. "Drink up. There's plenty more where that came from."
A look of pleasure swept Michael's face as he took his first sip. "This is
delicious. The best coffee I've ever had. What is it?"
"Oh, just a little mixture I brewed up for us. I call it Harvest Blend."
Stacy once again adjusted her bra. This time it had the desired effect on
Michael as his rigid sense of self- consciousness began to dissipate,
allowing him to drink in Stacy in all her splendor.
She sat attentively in his guest chair. Ample breasts encased delicately in a
sheer white blouse that revealed more than just their voluptuous outline. A
short peach dance skirt that rode well up her lovely thighs, exposing legs
the likes of which Michael could only dream of touching. And feet strapped
into sexy black patent 4" heels. Stacy was a knockout.
"It's okay Michael. Go ahead and look. I get those looks from all the guys."
Michael realized a moment too late that his furtive glances had become wanton
stares. Embarrassed by the situation, he turned crimson and averted his eyes.
"I'm sorry, Stacy. I'm really not like that. Looking back to her, "It won't
happen again."
"Oh, don't worry about me. We girls get used to it after awhile," she
smirked. "Anyway, what's the harm in just looking, right Michael?"
"Ah, right. Right." He swallowed hard as he finished his coffee.
"How about another cup?" Stacy volunteered.
"That sounds great, thanks." Stacy leaned over his desk, intentionally
exposing her cleavage with a smile.
"I'll be right back." While she was gone Michael decided he'd better get a
grip on the situation, so he pulled out the departmental manual and began to
get acquainted with his new department. On his desk he noticed a nail file
and absentmindedly began to shape his nails. "These really do need some
work", he noted.
As Stacy returned and set down Michael's coffee refill she smiled. "Those
nails really are taking shape."
Michael felt a little self-conscious at the remark, but continued filing away
his nails which were beginning to reshape into lovely ovals.
"I mean, if you want to go to the top you have to look the part," she
confided. "Here try this nail enamel."
"But I've never used nail enamel before," he said nervously.
Stacy passed him the small bottle. A pretty shade of pink. "Don't be silly,
lots of guy use nail enamel around here. You don't want your nails showing
ugly cracks do you?"
Taking the bottle, Michael slowly began to brush out the polish over his
nails. "I guess you're right. This really does look a whole lot better," he
beamed as he held out his hands to inspect his work. His nails were now at
least _" ovals, beautifully tapered. He smiled at the effect that the bright
pink polish had on his hands.
"You really are going to be a great addition to Special Services," Stacy said
encouragingly. With that she got up, taking Michael's coffee cup for another
refill.
Momentarily Michael's mind returned to the business at hand as he reopened
the new manual for Special Services. He was eager to learn all the ins and
outs of the department he now headed.
"Here you go." Stacy handed Michael his coffee cup and he lifted it with a
nod of thanks as he continued reading the manual.
"This manual is huge," he remarked with growing discomfort.
"I know. The last vice-president just had me tell him about it. Saves a lot
of reading and wasted time on the job," Stacy offered.
Michael was beginning to fidget. He looked somewhat uncomfortable as he began
to pull and tug on his heavily starched shirt collar. "That's a great idea.
I'm having a tough time getting going this morning," he grinned with
increasing discomfort.
"Michael, that shirt collar looks like it's driving you crazy."
By now he had unbuttoned his suit coat and was rubbing and itching all over.
"I'm itching like mad," was Michael's only comment as he continued to search
for relief.
"New shirts can do that. Probably just a little allergic reaction to the
fabric."
By now Michael was getting desperate for relief, itching his arms, chest and
neck with growing frustration.
"I've got an idea. Let me get you one of the shirts from the executive
locker. Our last VP left all kinds of things lying around. Besides, I think
you're about the same size."
In a few minutes Stacy returned with a shirt in one hand and a coffee refill
in the other.
"Here you go-- another cup of coffee to calm your nerves and one white shirt
to stop all that itching."
Thankfully Michael took the coffee and began drinking it. It tasted better
than anything he'd ever had before. Then he looked across the desk at the
shirt that Stacy had brought. He reached out to touch it. It felt so
incredibly soft. So delicate and sheer. "That's odd," he said, "This shirt
doesn't have a collar."
"Of course it doesn't, Michael. It wasn't meant to go with a your jacket.
It's kind of business casual." Michael's confused expression began to soften.
"I guess you're right."
"We're very casual here in Special Services. You'll see. Why don't you go get
changed so you can stop all that itching and get down to business." Michael
nodded, still a bit confused and headed for the washroom to change.
He returned with a very puzzled look on his face. "Stacy, something's wrong
with this. These sleeves are so poofy. And it buttons backwards. Michael
stepped forward, trying to make sense out of things. "Here, take a look at
this fabric. It's so sheer it's almost see-through.
Stroking the soft, silky fabric Stacy moved to calm him. "Don't be silly. You
have a very good looking upper body, why be so embarrassed to show it? And
you don't seem to be itching, so the fabric must be the answer."
"I guess maybe you're right." Michael then took a seat behind his desk and
attempted to reopen the Special Services manual. "It does feel pretty good.
But do you really think it looks okay on me?"
"Michael, relax. These shirts are definitely in style. You look absolutely
lovely."
Savoring the flavor of another sip of the divine coffee, Michael again
returned to his content if not absentminded stare. "Thanks, Stacy, you're
such a friend."
"Anytime, boss," she replied.
"So, can we get back to this manual. I can't seem to clear my head this
morning," he chuckled.
Stacy smiled greedily with satisfaction. "Why yes, Michael, of course we can.
But first I have to finish a conference report and get it down the hall. Noon
deadline. That is, if you don't mind."
Michael had wandered across the room to a mirror on the wall and was staring
at his reflection, lost in thought.
Getting up to leave Stacy walked to Michael and rubbed his shoulders. The
caress made him shudder. "Why don't you just get used to your new office,
Michael?" I'll be back before lunch. Oh, and help yourself to some coffee.
There's a fresh pot brewing."
"Thank you Stacy, I could use a little refill."
When Stacy returned, Michael was standing in front of the mirror, feverishly
combing back his hair.
"I'm back boss and I see you're still getting comfortable in your new home
away from home." She moved closer for inspection. Michael turned to her
showing a look close to panic.
"Something's wrong Stacy. First my nails.then all the itching and now.now my
hair!"
"What about your hair, Michael?" She gently reached to take the comb out of
his hand and began to comb out his now much longer head of hair. "I wish I
had hair this beautiful," she reassured him as she continued to comb out his
new mane of auburn waves which hung down to his shoulders.
"That's exactly what I mean," responded Michael in desperation. "My hair's
never been this long before. Why just this morning."
Stacy quickly intervened. "This morning you started the first day of a new
and very important job. It's no wonder you're feeling the way you are. So
much stress. Everything's new." She gently guided Michael to a nearby chair
and seated him in front of the mirror, massaging away his insecurities with
each brush stoke.
"You probably didn't even notice how long your hair's been getting. Trust me,
Michael, everything is going to be fine. Stacy handed him his cup of coffee
and he drank from it gratefully, watching Stacy brush out his beautifully
thick and luxuriously long auburn curls. She finished with several long
sweeps of hairspray.
"There now. Everything should stay in place." Kneeling down to eye level
Stacy comforted him. "You're feeling better now aren't you?
Michael slowly glanced in the mirror and was shocked to see how feminine the
new hairstyle made him look, softly framing his face. He barely noticed, but
slowly his feelings were changing. Something about the new hairstyle... the
new shirt.the new nail enamel. His new position. It all felt so right. No, it
felt wonderful, he thought with guilt.
Stacy saw the conflict in his eyes and quickly reacted, offering his coffee
cup again. "Why do you look so ashamed, Michael?"
Taking a long sip from his coffee cup Michael looked up to Stacy with fear in
his eyes. "I just don't understand."
"Understand what, Michael? Stacy playfully rubbed his chin. "Look at you. I
can't remember a guy around here looking as good as you do today."
Michael began to regain his composure. "I do?," he queried in apparent
disbelief.
"Yes, Michael, you do."
"But I feel so strange."
"Like I said, first day on a new job will do that to you."
They both laughed. "I guess so."
"So how about lunch?" Michael's look said it all. "That sounds just like what
the doctor ordered."
"Let's check out the cafeteria." They have a delicious chicken salad on
Monday.
Michael seemed to recall that he didn't particularly like salads, but today
was different. Today, the sound of salad was appealing.
"I'd love that," he confided and the two headed out the door.
Inside the cafeteria, Michael stood patiently in line behind Stacy. When
their turn came, a large cook with heavy arms and a thick chest greeted them
jovially.
"Good afternoon, ladies."
Michael's smile faded in an instant.
Hi, Gus, responded Stacy. "Two chicken salads and two diet cokes to go."
Comin' right up girls, the cook smiled. Michael could only blush with
embarrassment, cracking a half smile and moving quickly to the checkout.
Getting off the crowded elevator and moving back to Michael's office, Stacy
broke the silence. "Okay, Michael, what's the matter?"
"Didn't you hear him?"
"Hear who?" questioned Stacy.
"The cook"! He called me a lady!"
"Oh, THAT!" Stacy chuckled. "Gus greets so many people. He just made a
mistake. Don't take it so personally."
Michael softened and began to nibble on his salad.
After lunch Stacy returned to Michael's office with two fresh cups of coffee.
"Two cups of the daily special.harvest blend. One for you..and one for me."
As Michael slowly sipped his first cup of the afternoon, his mind drifted. He
had great difficulty crossing his legs. Stacy seized the moment. "You really
should do something about those pants. They look awfully tight."
Michael snapped back to attention, noticing for the first time that Stacy's
observation was correct. He readjusted his legs uncomfortably. "You're right.
These pants are killing me."
"Guess your new suit isn't working out too well, is it?"
"It felt fine this morning."
"Well this is afternoon, young man. And we won't have you suffering another
minute will we?"
Michael began to fidget with his newly enameled fingernails, not knowing what
to say. "What did you have in mind?"
"Let me handle it." With that she was up and out of his office.
Stacy returned with a pair of pants and a very thin, black patent leather
belt. "Here, go and try these on for size," as she motioned Michael down the
hall.
Michael slowly stepped back into his office as if he was an intruder. His new
pants fit perfectly. The deep purple color contrasted superbly with his new,
sheer white shirt. And the front pleats seemed much better equipped to handle
his apparently wider hips.
Stacy eyed him up with delight. "Michael, you look absolutely fantastic."
He couldn't believe it. "But Stacy, these pants are purple. They have pleats.
And look at this belt. It looks like a .."
"Michael don't go getting all neurotic on me. Purple is very in these days.
And those pleats really work with your figure."
"I.I don't know. I'm feeling kind of."
"Kind of like you need another cup of coffee."
Stacy offered yet another cup of coffee Michael who seemed more drawn to it
with each passing cup. Somehow the coffee was easing him. Settling his nerves
and making him feel everything was all right.
Moving around the corner of his desk and seating himself, Michael finally
gave up on the Special Services department manual, closing its cover and
reclining in his chair. As he did he gratefully kicked off his wing tip shoes
to massage his feet. Stacy smiled knowingly.
"Poor baby, your feet ache, too?", Stacy comforted.
"Yes, these shoes are giving me fits," Michael hastily responded. "My arches
are killing me."
"We can fix that. Stay right here. I'll be back in a flash."
A minute later Stacy returned with a shoebox in hand.
"What's this?", Michael asked with growing curiousity.
"Try these on. They work wonders on high arches like yours."
Michael opened the box and was shocked to discover a pair of 4" white, patent
leather pumps with matching ankle straps.
"But I can't wear these, Stacy! These are women's shoes."
By now a feeling was brewing inside Michael that was getting harder to
ignore. Somewhere deep inside a voice was rising, demanding to be heard. A
powerfully seductive yet soothing voice that told him everything would be all
right. He fought the feelings inside him, but outside he didn't sound
convincing. Stacy could see he was beginning to crack.
"Of course they are. But you said your arches were killing you."
"Well they are."
"Then try them on. What have you got to lose, except your aching feet and a
little male pride!"
"I guess you're right, Stacy."
Stacy eagerly watched as Michael slowly slipped his small feet into the pair
of heels. He wiggled them in amazement. The tiny shoes fit his feet
perfectly. Stacy bent down to buckle his new ankle straps.
"See, I told you they'd fit. And they look great on you," she complimented.
"Walk around try them out.see how they feel."
Michael got up, slowly balancing himself on the precious high heels for the
first time. He took his first few steps with surprising ease. "My feet feel
wonderful," Michael beamed to Stacy. "These shoes really are comfortable,
Stacy."
"Told you so. Leave it to a secretary to get it right," she laughed. Michael
began to giggle.
Sashaying with newfound confidence in front of his office mirror, Stacy
temporarily excused herself.
She returned with a pot of coffee and several packets of powder. Michael was
now back behind his desk. He was fixed on the front cover of his new Special
Services manual.
"Stacy, something's not right about all this. Look at me." I can't walk
around here like this. What's everyone going to think?" Clearly, Michael was
having second thoughts about all the changes around him.
"What's not right, Michael? You're in charge of this department now. So you
set all the rules, don't you?"
"I guess I do."
"Then there's no problem, right?" Michael nodded still not convinced.
"Anyway, here's another cup of your favorite brew." Then opening the contents
of a small packet she began to mix them into his cup. "Try this new sugar
substitute. I love it. Hope you don't mind ."
Absentmindedly Michael replied. "No, guess I'm up for trying all kinds of
things today."
Stacy handed him a new cup of coffee and he drank with deep satisfaction.
"I've gotta tell you Stacy, you make the best brew I've ever tasted." As
Michael continued, his voice began to break, it's pitch becoming higher.
"And this sugar substitute is absolutely divine." It was apparent Michael's
mood was changing with each passing sip of coffee.
"Why thank you, Michael." Stacy sat back with a smile and savored the moment,
waiting for something to happen. A few moments later Michael, in a very high
pitched squeak, nervously questioned Stacy.
"What's happening to me, Stacy!" My voice! What's happening to.my.voice!!
Stacy addressed Michael with mock reassurance. "There.there. I know this is
all kind of sudden for you." She moved toward a frightened and cowering
Michael. He was touching his chest as if discovering something new for the
first time.
Stacy leaned in to inspect his budding chest. "I see things are developing
well your first day on the job."
Michael was almost in tears his voice and now his chest betraying his
masculinity. "My chest.my chest. It hurts. Why is all this happening to me?"
"Oh don't be foolish, dear." You're going to be perfectly fine in just a few
minutes." Lifting the pot of coffee, "More coffee?"
"I don't think." Michael was now almost doubled over clutching his chest, a
pained and bewildered expression written all over him.
"Of course you don't..or at least you won't in a few minutes."
Staggering to get back into his seat, Michael searched Stacy's face for
answers. "I don't understand, Stacy." Gasping he panicked for assistance.
"Please Stacy.please."
Abruptly walking away, Stacy returned momentarily with several rolled up
garments in her hand. "Of course I'll help you, dear. Isn't that what I've
been doing for you all day?" She then carelessly flung the ball of clothing
toward Michael, commanding him to get up
"Now---go get changed and make yourself more presentable, Stacy demanded.
Everything's ready for you in the executive locker."
The next day Stacy arrived at work dressed for Wall Street in a light gray
business suit. The peplum cut cinched her figure and flared to accentuate her
hips. A matching skirt clung to her long legs at mid thigh. Arriving at her
new desk she set down her attache case and then picked up the phone.
"Michelle? Please bring me a cup of coffee and the morning paper, would you
dear?"
"Certainly Miss Wellman." Michelle was radiant as she poured her new boss a
cup of coffee, her ruby red lips grinning from ear to ear.
She entered Stacy's office carrying a tray of coffee. Carefree she strolled
to a nearby table. Today, she was wearing a black leather micro mini and
back-seamed black stockings. Her black and white, leopard print blouse was
ruffled and bounced freely with each step. Its low, plunging cut accentuated
her new size D breasts that proudly burst forth announcing her newfound
femininity. Gingerly Michelle set down the tray and began to pour Stacy
coffee, making sure not to chip the red gloss polish from her new 1" nail
extensions. As she turned with a sexy twist toward Stacy no one could tell
Michelle had never worn 6" heels. They were rapidly becoming her favorites.
Efficiently she served Stacy coffee and sat down, carefully crossing her
legs, and picking up a pad of paper and pen. As she waited Michelle
absentmindedly blew a bubble, breaking Stacy from her coffee and her morning
newspaper.
"Now, Michelle, I won't tolerate gum chewing in my office", she chided.
Michelle blushed and giggled in her ditzy, new soprano voice. Stacy
continued.
"Now then, today's your first day on the job, so we have a lot of ground to
cover, young lady. My expectations are very high. That goes for all the girls
that work for me.but especially for you, Michelle."
Michelle sat up straight, tugging on her short skirt to cover even the
tiniest bit of thigh it was capable of hiding. "Yes, ma'am."
Suddenly a wicked grin crossed Stacy's face. Leaning forward she picked up
the Special Services department manual that they had failed to cover the day
before. She waved it tauntingly in front of Michelle's demure face.
"Perhaps now you have a little better idea of what the Special Services
department is all about? Recruitment, my dear Michelle. Recruitment! Too bad
you didn't take the time to read the manual yesterday.
She laughed heartily and went back to reading the morning paper and sipping
her coffee. Michelle was already back at her reception desk, busy filing her
nails and chewing gum.
Stacy grinned with satisfaction, "That girl doesn't make a bad cup of
coffee."
The End
Jerri
- 08.05.2022
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