Wrong Turn, Right Hallway Pt. 03

Wrong Turn, Right Hallway

A Wade Wilson Story

by The Preve

Based on the character and story created by Wade Wilson, and illustration by Lechono

The Author wishes to thank Wade Wilson for his permission in writing this story (and no, it’s not that Wade Wilson :D).

Part Three

The Executive Suite:

Part Two

Odetta Welles, chief quantitative analyst, arrived at J&B, just before noon. Nicki’s text mentioned a “special” in the Executive Suite.

The Nut Cracker catch someone interesting?

Typically this kind of mischief was Anne’s territory. It was uncharacteristic for Nicki to be obtuse. She was usually straightforward.

The Lobby Desk smiled when Odetta entered.

“Oh, Ms. Welles. Happy to see you today.”

“Hi, Miles. Just here to do some work. Anybody else here ‘sides Security?”

“Maintenance of course, plus the Cleaning Crew, and Ms. Parilla and Ms. Wallace.”

The Lobby Desk looked at Odetta with a smile and cocked eyebrow.

“Ah hmm, well, I’m going to have to speak with them about the housing market soon.”

Lobby Desk couldn’t care less about housing. Odetta was just making small talk. She was waiting for others. She’d head straight to the elevator otherwise.

It’s the Executive Suite, he figured. He didn’t know exactly what went on up there. Rumors abounded. It wasn’t just about entertaining clients, at least not the standard entertainment.

The Lobby Desk was no fool. He put some things together, based on recent happenings.

A streaker in the building, yet the dogs are called off. Ms. Parilla, and I know those whispers about her, and the Nutcracker upstairs. And now Ms. Welles is here, lingering in the lobby. She rarely comes in on Saturdays. Who else is coming?

His answer came shortly.

Two more women entered the lobby. Ms. Cooper and Ms. Moore, the Lobby Desk smiled.

Tilde Cooper was Vice President of Public Relations. Samantha Moore was her personal assistant. Among other duties, said the rumors.

Ms. Cooper was forty, and epitomized the classic body-sculpted, man-eating milf, from her pixie cut flaming red hair, to her ice cold face with its sculpted eyebrows, to the form-fitting business suit, emphasizing a body rivaling Ms. Wallace’s.

“I heard they were gym pals, among others,” thought the Lobby Desk.

Ms. Cooper’s ivory pale skin stood as near counterpart to Ms. Welles’ Sudanese dark, and equally flawless, ebony.

Situated somewhere between was Ms. Cooper’s assistant, Samantha Moore, 25. Her hair was glossy black, like Odetta’s, cut short but not pixie style. Her skin was olive, possibly Mediterranean.

She was shorter, just slightly, than Ms. Cooper, more slender in build but athletic. Her clothes were casual, with a touch of goth. A black T-shirt, Death from the Sandman logo in front, light blue jeans, white athletic shoes, black chain collar around her neck, and kohl lines around her silver eyes completed the rebellious ensemble.

“And there’s my favorite quant,” Tilde said with a soft smile.

“Tilde, Sam,” Odetta smiled back.

“So that’s three. Anyone else coming?” Tilde asked.

“Double R texted her eta is two minutes. The Old Lady’s coming in tomorrow. The rest say they’re busy with other projects.”

“I guess it’s just us four, then,” Tilde said.

“This conference better be worth it,” grumbled Samantha, “I’m missing a Black Rose concert for this.”

“From what I heard Nicki say, it is,” smirked Tilde.

The Lobby Desk missed nothing. Euphemisms were common when talking about the Executive Suite. Even in the informal atmosphere of J&B, plausible deniability was a must.

The fourth arrived a few minutes later. Rosemary “Double R” Robinson, Assistant Legal Counsel. She was thirty-three, curvy voluptuous, with mocha skin, curly dark brown hair with red and black highlights, and eyes of light amber. She was one of the Firm’s sharpest lawyers, and the hottest.

“Hail, hail, the gang’s all here,” she smiled.

“Cliche,” Odetta quipped back.

“So I guess this is all for today’s conference?” RR asked.

“Pretty much. We’ll get the other girls up to speed on Monday,” smirked Tilde.

“Well, four it is, I guess. Let’s get this over with, later Miles,” Odetta nodded.

“Later Miles,” RR, Sam, and Tilde singsonged, passing the desk.

The Lobby Desk smiled back. Damn! I wish I were the subject of this “conference,” he whistled, then went back to work. He didn’t log them in.

The women entered the elevator. Tilde pressed the button for the Executive Suite. They didn’t expect much, evinced by the neutral, disinterested expressions on their faces.

Anne and Nicki were generally good about these conferences, and their subjects, but disappointments happened. As it stood, the past year had been exceptionally busy, even grueling, for the Firm.

Stress levels were high. Steam needed venting. Business conferences in the Executive Suite offered more creative pathways, than most.

The carnal bacchanal greeting their eyes, upon the elevator doors opening, presented as a prime example.

It wasn’t the first time a few of these women walked into a fuck session, by accident or otherwise. The view impressed, more than usual, especially Tilde. She was an oil lover, like Nicki.

Three gleaming nude bodies, shiny with oil, sweat, and cum, throbbed and gyrated on the glass table.

The quartet recognized Anne and Nicki of course. The young man sandwiched between looked vaguely familiar, but his head was turned away, and the two women partially obscured his body.

Anne glanced up, smiled, then whispered in the young man’s ear.

“So, this is the subject, I take it?” Odetta smirked.

“Details in a second Odie,” Anne smirked back.

She whispered to Nicki. The two women untangled from the young man, and rose off the table.

Standing up, after such an extended period in their positions, was easy for Anne and Nicki. Years of yoga, exercise, and stretching for flexibility, brought good results for both. The young man required a few moments, though.

“Hi girls,” Nicki greeted, and began to stretch. Her pussy was wet, and her hard body gleamed.

Anne shone with oil and sweat, and her body was flushed pink. The ladies noted her hard nipples, and the cum running from her wet pussy.

“Well, looks like you two are in a good session,” smiled RR.

Samantha’s pussy felt a little damp. She loved nude bodies, female and male. The two women’s lustful display excited her, and the young man who’d caused it made her curious.

“So who’s the guy?”

“This one’s going to be a shock,” smiled Anne.

She turned to the table, “You can stand up now.”

The young man got off the table, and stood with some difficulty. He faced the women, his head slightly lowered. His eyes were off to the side, gazing at the windows, and a faint blush tinted his face. The young man was most obviously embarrassed.

The four’s reactions, on viewing him fully, varied.

Odetta and RR were jaw-dropped. Tilde’s eyebrow was cocked higher than usual. Sam’s face wore a humored smirk.

“The office boy, Anne?” Tilde asked.

“Uh huh,” Anne chuckled back.

“Whoa!” Odetta gawped, “I barely knew this guy existed. His cock . . .”

“Yes, his cock,” chuckled Anne, “And that’s not all. Turn around young Wade.”

The office boy turned without a word.

“Holy fuck!” RR goggled, “That’s one fine ass!”

“Mm . . . Mm . . . Mm!” Odetta agreed.

“Oh man,” chorused Sam.

“We had this package working here for how long?” asked Tilde.

“Two years,” Nicki replied.

“Right under our noses and we never knew.” Few things surprised Sam. This revelation, of formerly hidden attributes by a person, cute yes, but barely noticeable otherwise, disturbed her mildly. I wonder who else I know has a secret?

“How did you find this one out?” Tilde asked.

“By accident,” Anne replied, “Young Wade, here, was streaking on the fourth floor and I bumped into him.”

“Streaking?” smirked Sam.

“That little shit Robert Wentworth coerced him into this stunt, and then stole his clothes,” smiled Nicki, “Unfortunate for Wade, fortunate for us.”

“Maybe not so unfortunate,” smiled Sam.

Wade, standing still and quiet, agreed. He couldn’t lie to himself and say he didn’t feel some embarrassment. There was a lot of awkwardness and insecurity about himself. He doubted those feelings would ever go away, but new thoughts and feelings complicated things.

Two hot milfs, his own bosses, had just fucked him; the good kind of fuck, not Robert’s.

Four other women, three milfs and a girl just a few years older than him, were here, talking about parts of his body, he’d always considered liabilities than assets.

He’d never been admired, always ignored. He didn’t know how to respond, except to do as Ms. Parilla told him.

Wade knew these four. He’d seen them in the building, or they used him for errands from time to time.

Ms. Cooper, with her statuesque body, near perfect face, and scarlet red hair. Her cold emerald eyes assessed everything around her, and found much wanting. He’d been less than a worm to her. Now he was the focus of her attention.

“Turn him around so he can face me,” Tilde said.

“Wade,” Anne commanded.

The young man obeyed.

“Remarkable! Magnificent!” thought Tilde.

Most men and women left little impression on Tilde. She kept high standards few could meet. This young man, by all accounts, should fall well below her standards.

His wide brown eyes and soft featured face evoked cute. She hated cute. Tilde preferred the chiseled male model style.

His body certainly wasn’t cut. It was skinny by her standards, even if toned.

Tilde, though, was experienced enough to know attributes, normally unattractive to her, could work if put together right. Young Wade provided a prime example.

A “skinny” body, evoking a certain lithesome build, a cute face more magnetic than cloying, matched with a near perfect ass, and a cock and balls set as perfect a Priapus as she’d ever seen, brought out a bloom of desire rarely felt by the redhead.

I’m actually jealous Anne and Nicki got their hands on him before I could.

She swore that privilege would be rectified before the day was out. Along with knowing how his cock would feel in her pussy, and his cum taste on her tongue.