Steven Basic

GITJ Tangent Thread: Seeking Approval, p10

Added 2021-08-30 18:01:49 +0000 UTC

Sam Packer opened his eyes with effort, more effort than he can remember having to muster even after the worst of his college benders. Whoah, he thought, what did I do last night? He was in his hotel room, and there was some light coming through the window. It’s morning, that much he knew. And he had a headache; that he knew as well. He reached for his phone, noticed the low battery as he’d forgotten to plug it in last night, and struggled to swipe it on. A bunch of text alerts - mostly from Ashleigh, and there had been a phone call from Director Arr-...uh, Ma-…uhhhh…Mercedes. Yes, Mercedes. It was 9:12 AM. Huh, that’s not so bad. I didn’t sleep as long as I thought.

Weird, though, these texts look like they came through in the afternoon. On Saturday. Which is today, right? No, that can’t be…

Sam checked the d-

It’s 9:12 SUNDAY MORNING!?!?

How did I sleep that long?!? All through Saturday?!? Jiminy Crickets!! It was...it had been Friday night, right? When I went out w-with Ashleigh. We did...something, something I can’t quite remember, at Evolution, something with a video or an ad or something. Did it have anything to do with that weird stuff he’d found, the Russian fi-

OW! A short, stabbing pain through his temples. Intense enough to shake the thoughts from his head, like an electric shock. W-wow...this was a bad hangover! I’d better drink some water…

What if Mercedes were here to get me a glass? He thought, immediately feeling better, but then wondering: That’s weird...why would I think that??

Anyway...Whatever he and Ashleigh had done together at Evolution on Friday evening, it had been late, after everyone had gone. And then we went out, we were dancing, there were friends, other girls. Did we go somewhere else? Jesus how much did I drink?!?

And how did I get home?? And…naked??

Sam’s memory was foggy. Well, ‘foggy’ may not be the right word. ‘Spotty’ was more like it. There were things he remembered - driving in her car, for example, to the bar. Ordering a pitcher of beer at...what was the place called? Something about a Boot? But what had they been doing, really, at the office before they left? He felt like it had been something he shouldn’t have done. And the girls he met, Ashleigh’s...sorority sisters, was that it? All he remembered was laughing, laughing eyes...and smells. One had crazy hair. I think they all had big tits, he remembered, as a weird, pleasant sensation tingled him from his scalp down his spine. They all took him somewhere, from the bar, they walked there. That he remembered. He remembered a guy tripping into a bush, he remembered stairs down, a dark door. Pictures on a wall. And then...yikes. That’s it.

He checked his texts. Maybe he can-

Oh shit.

Ashleigh had sent him a photo - this was yesterday, when she sent it, Saturday afternoon. But it was a picture from Friday night, one of himself passed out, laying with his head lolled in the lap of whoever was taking the picture. Ashleigh herself, he figured - the creamy white skin of the thighs was a giveaway. He was obviously shirtless.

<YOU WERE SO CUTE!> was what she had written, in text, with a few adorable kissy-face emojis.

<Hope u feel okay when you wake up> she added.

Jesus what happened between us?? Oh no oh no oh no...and she has pictures??

<Here’s more!> she continued.

More pictures?!? Mostly on this bed, in his hotel, him with no pants on. There were a half-dozen that she’d sent yesterday.

I was naked!?!?!?

<Don’t worry I won’t show these to your bossss haha>

Immediately in a panic, worried, Sam wrote back:

Obviously with phone in hand this Sunday morning, Ashleigh replied immediately.

<Yes>

Oh crap. How could he not remem-…wait, he did remember. But the memory seemed off, weird, flying into his head and almost too vivid: he and she on his bed, she underneath him, screeching his name. Did that really happen??

Again, a near-immediate response.

…

<Don’t worry baby I’ve got it covered.>

<ok>

(did she just call me ‘baby’?)

Not knowing what else to say, feeling sheepish, Sam waited but Ashleigh was now quiet from her end. Then he remembered the call from Mercedes, a voicemail. He felt bad, suddenly, thinking of her, remembering the tryst he’d had with her, his boss, before he’d left Maryland for this assignment. She’d inhaled him in the bathroom at that happy hour bar and seemed to suggest they’d have, well, something when he got back. Did last night - whatever it was that he did with Ashleigh (or her friends…did something happen with them too?) - make him, like, unfaithful? At the very least, it was probably unprofessional, an inspector sleeping with one of the employees of the company he was inspecting. He prided himself on his honesty, and knew he should probably tell Ma-…Mercedes. But why did that other name keep popping into his head, whenever he thought of her..?

Hearing her voice on the message she’d left immediately made him feel better, strangely so. It was from yesterday evening:

“Hiii happy Saturday sleepyhead,” she’d begun, speaking slowly. She had a deeper voice, earthy, with enough hint of an accent to make it even more sexy, “I hear you had an exciting evening on Friday and I guess you’re probably sleeping the weekend away. I'd love to touch base with you, see your little face when you start to feel better…”

It didn’t even occur to him to wonder how she knew he’s been asleep when she called. Instead, Sam found himself listening to her every word with intense, focused attention. Meanwhile, the headache lurking at the back of his skull had evaporated, his vision had become less filmy.

“…I want to chat,” the message continued, “see how the work is going, get an update, catch up. I’ll call you tomorrow, whenever you're able to make it out of bed. Or, if you can't get out of bed....we could always do it there…”

He was hard already, imagining a FaceTime with his voluptuous, sultry boss. Her face on his - oh shoot! My laptop! It’s still at Evolution! That was a huge no-no, letting his government-issued computer, with all its sensitive information, log-ons and files, out of his sight. But nothing would happen, right? The offices were basically empty on the weekend, no one at Evolution would ever try to access all the data he’d collected, the forms he’d completed, change anything? Right? Still, it made him nervous, and his boss might be mad at him…

“…Anyway, let me know when you’re ready, and we’ll talk. You rest up and relax, bomboncita, and I’ll see you soon - “

At that, Mercedes’ voice dropped to a quick, low sigh followed by a big, slow, smacking *MUAH!* of a goodbye kiss. A sound which made his cock harden, immediately.

“Byyyyye baby…” she concluded, as the message ended.

Sam snaked his right hand under his rumpled sheets. Jeez Louise her voice is sexy, he marveled, as he prepared to restart the message with one hand and grab his thingy with the other, and she just called me baby, too. But just then, a call started coming through -

It’s her.

“H-h-hello?” Sam stammered, swiping into a video call. Normally, he’d have been aghast at himself: he looked a mess, hair plastered to his head, shirtless, eyes bleary. Ten seconds of getting himself together would have been at least a little improvement. But the thought of making her wait made him uncomfortable; at the very least he was able to sit himself up straighter in bed. His heart fluttered when he saw her face appear. Mercedes Arroyo, The FDA’s Director of the Second Division of the Office of Non-Prescription Drugs, the lady who held his career in her hand and had given him the best blowjob of his life, was on his little screen.

“H-hi, M-M-...uh, D-DIrector Arroyo…” Sam answered, struggling with her name. It was just then that he noticed how strangely large his phone felt in his hand.

Onscreen, she smiled back at him. “Well, hello bomboncita,” she purred, her smile curling just enough like a cat’s to make Sam immediately feel like the canary, “it’s so nice to see you…”

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