Sylvia looked up to my face and said, “Um. Can you come to his office at noon? He may be delayed a few minutes if he’s in the middle of a phone call.” I nodded and she turned around to leave. Her ass was as fantastic as the rest of her. I thought, ‘Dad. You old dog, you. Mom had her pegged correctly.’ That didn’t mean that the rest of her assumptions about Dad having a sexual relationship with her were correct.
I stayed standing as I watched her walk away. I looked down at my crotch to see what she had glanced down at and I let out a loud groan and said out loud, “Oh fuck. You’ve got to be kidding me.” My dress pants were tented out in front of me pushing the zipper to the limit. I pushed my hard cock to my left hip and the tent was gone but the contour remained. I sat down hard in my chair.
Sylvia had stopped to chat with the secretary stationed in a ‘bullpen’ area outside the offices of our group. Her head motions indicated that she was talking to her about me. She laughed and glanced back at me and then left the area. I followed her swaying hips until she was out of sight. I cursed my dick for embarrassing me again, like it was a separate, self-controlled entity; which of course, it essentially was. I returned to my boring job and day-dreaming about Sylvia now.
Dad wasn’t tied up in a phone call when I arrived at his office and Sylvia greeted me with a big smile and said, “Hello, Dex. He should be right with you.” I sat down in a chair by Sylvia’s desk because she was having that effect on me again. I cursed my dick again. I looked around Sylvia’s office at the artwork she had hanging on her wood-paneled walls. It was as tasteful as she looked.
Sylvia had gone back to typing on her computer and then she said, “You can go in now.” I door to the left of Sylvia’s desk opened and Dad appeared and invited me into his office. It had the same cherry wood paneling. It was huge with a wall of floor to ceiling glass windows looking out at the river. His office furniture was also cherry and the decorating definitely had a woman’s touch. I whistled as I turned a complete 360 degrees. A door to the right of his desk was a private bathroom. Dad was a big wheel to have all these benefits.
Dad grabbed his coat and pulled it on as he said, “You ready?” I just nodded and followed him back out to his outer office occupied by Sylvia. He told her he’d be back in a couple hours and she smiled and told him he didn’t have anything until two-thirty.
He took me to a fancy restaurant with linen tablecloths and napkins folded like origami into peacocks. Fine china and crystal stemware adorned the tables. Dad must frequent the place because the Maître ‘D knew him by name. The restaurant was busy with a business lunch crowd. Men and women alike were dressed in business suits. Dad introduced me to a few people on the way to our table.
Dad had a scotch ‘neat’ and I learned that ‘neat’ meant ‘with no ice or other garnishments’. I had a soda ‘un-neat’. After the waiter took our orders, Dad hemmed and hawed around why he invited me to lunch. After a few sips of his scotch, she jumped right in. “I wanted to talk to you about your mother’s sleepwalking affliction. She doesn’t know anything about it.” I knew he was wrong because I had blurted out that she walked in her sleep, in self-defense of my ill-conceived fake sleepwalking attempts. Initially, she didn’t believe me, but when I told her some of the things she did while sleepwalking, she had a vague feeling that she remembered some of them like déjà vu. I didn’t let on that I had told Mom anything about her affliction. I did think it was odd that Mom had not attempted to engage me any further on the topic.