Little Ms. Marker

The elevator opened. The reception area was all marble, glass and chrome, a throwback to 1980s decorating fashion. I ignored the receptionist and led Li up the wide stairs that led to the executive floor and the board room. The members of the board were just taking their seats as we walked in and closed the door behind us.

At the far end of the long mahogany table, Burry spotted us. His face paled and he abruptly sat down as his legs turned to water. His father, features bloated by too much good living giving him the look of a truculent pufferfish, looked up and saw us.

"Who are you and what are you doing here?" he demanded around his cigar. "Get out at once!"

"My name is John d'Eaux, and this is my fiancée, Chan Ho Li; and if this is the board of directors of the St. Edmonds Company, we have business here," I retorted.

That statement silenced the room. As Uncle John had instructed her, Li took the briefcase and slowly walked to the head of the table. Even the lines of the female executive suit couldn't mask her sexuality, enhanced by a perfume she had specifically selected for its striking power. Every male's eyes feasted on her except Burry's and mine. He stared at the tabletop while I studied the other board members, all members of the St. Edmonds family. Burry's Aunt Charlotte and his cousin Ned looked decidedly uneasy. Setting the case on the table, Li opened it and handed Winthrop St. Edmonds a file folder before returning to stand next to me.

Winthrop, the company's chairman, opened the folder and looked at the contents. His eyes suddenly blazed with hate and he glared at us.

"What sort of nonsense is this?" he thundered, using his cigar like a pointer.

"You might ask Bradford, Charlotte and Ned what sort of nonsense it is," I said. "And if you can locate a competent medium, your late brother Alden. It's all in the folder. The bottom line, Mr. Chairman, is that Li owns 2,344 voting shares of your company and I own 3,785. I further hold proxies for another 18,874 shares. That's 25,003 shares of voting stock."

A pin dropping would have sounded like a bomb as the board watched their chairman slowly read the share assignments and the proxies and do the math. Finally he looked at us.

"These shares and proxies aren't registered," he began. I cut him off.

"The registrations were properly signed for and received by your company at 9:47 this morning. I have the receipt right here. If you doubt it, call your mail room and ask."

Winthrop picked up the phone, paused, looked at us again and hung it back up without dialing. He conceded defeat. He had learned long ago that you can't change a deuce to an ace by staring at it.

"Is it your intention to take over as Chairman?" he asked.

"No," I said. "You will continue in your present role. While there will be changes made in the company's long term plans and goals, we have no intention of taking part in day-to-day management. However, before continuing with the meeting's order of business, there is an issue which must be addressed."

Li spoke up.

"According to the company bylaws, all board members must own at least three percent of the voting stock in the company; and anyone holding three percent or more of the voting stock is automatically on the board. I ask that those present be polled."

The chairman looked at each member of the board. No words were spoken; but when he got to Charlotte, Ned and Burry, they each got to their feet and started for the door.

"Wait for me in my office," Winthrop ordered icily. Heads down, they left the room. With an effort, Winthrop drew himself up, welcomed us onto the Board of Directors, and proceeded with the business before the board.

We kept our silence until the end of the agenda. Before St. Edmonds could call for a motion to adjourn, Li got to her feet.

"Mr. Chairman, it has come to my attention that there may be irregularities in the accounts pertaining to the Sales & Marketing Department. I move that an outside auditor be brought in to examine the books and verify the accounts."

"Second," I said.

This was one blow too many for Burry's father. "What do you mean by that! How dare you, you goddamned Chink bitch – "

"One more word, you toad," I snarled, "and I'll rip your tongue out by the roots! If she hadn't brought it up, I would have! You happen to be addressing my fiancée as well as a member of your board! Would you care to try conclusions with me, you sonofabitch?" The old bull and the new bull glowered at each other, the steam practically snorting from our nostrils. At last, the chairman looked away and Li and I sat down again.

Although I could tell it was almost choking him, Mr. St. Edmonds eventually growled out the motion. His look of shock when it passed with no dissenting votes was priceless. Before another blowup could occur, one of the others hastily moved to adjourn. We left without bothering to chat up the other board members and without haste, but moving quickly, left the building. Waters and our Mercedes were waiting. We climbed into the back and he pulled away.

"How did it go, sir?" he inquired.

"Just about the way you predicted," I said. "I imagine right about now Burry, his Aunt Charlotte and his cousin Ned are getting a royal chewing-out for gross stupidity from Chairman Winthrop, and that orders have been issued to remove Brother Alden's painting from the boardroom wall and toss it into the incinerator. The rest of the board is still in shock at discovering control of the company is no longer in the family's hands."

"Indeed. I predict that you will hear from Winthrop St. Edmonds before the end of the day."

"I don't think he'll finish his reevaluation that quickly," I said. "A little wager on it? A bottle of Talisker against a bottle of Napoleon brandy that he doesn't call before tomorrow?"

"Done!" said Waters. "Where would you and Miss Li care to take lunch, sir?"

"Somewhere out of the city," said Li before I could respond. "Do you know a place that has good seafood?"

"There's a little place in Brighton Beach I think well of," said Waters.

"Take us there," she ordered.

"Yes, miss," said Waters. Anything he might have wished to add was cut off by the whirr of the opaque divider going up between the driver's and passenger compartments. Li turned to me, kicking her shoes off and pulling her skirt up. He pussy lips were puffed with arousal and wet beneath the flimsy crotchless panties she wore.

"You were magnificent in there, John. I want you. Right here and right now! Take me, darling!" She lay back on the leather seat, legs spread to receive me.

The sight of her ready slit had given me an instant erection, which hardened more as the scent of aroused woman reached my nostrils. It moments, my pants and underwear were around my ankles and my cock was buried in her as her legs clasped me and we began to move together. Her beautiful face distorted by lust, Li urged me on, moaning in her throat as I pumped her pussy.

"Ohh… ohh… yes, darling, like that! Fuck your little bitch! Fuck me! Ohh, I'm so hot for your cock! I want to cum for you! Give it to me! Fuck me, darling, fuck me!"

I reached up with one hand and pulled her hair, exposing her throat. I moved in on her like a vampire without ever missing a beat as we thrust against each other. Locating the arteries at the junction of neck and shoulder, I pressed down with my teeth and tongue, stimulating a little known erogenous zone. Li moaned, her whimpers growing in intensity and climbing in pitch as I used her, driving her towards climax.

"Yess, darling… yess… don't stop… yes, yes, yes… ohhhh, yes! Yes! YES! AAAHHH!"

I felt her convulse under me as she orgasmed. Roughly, I pulled her mouth to mine and forced my tongue into her. She eagerly sucked it as my hands dropped to her buttocks and I pulled her to me, feeling our pelvic bones meet as my own climax overtook me and blasted into her talented cunt, splattering her valley of delight with my cum. As my cock began to shrink, we rolled apart and she looked at me with adoring eyes.

"John, you have enslaved me to your beautiful hard cock, and I love you for it. I am so happy to be yours.. I think you could bring me to climax even if you were 100 years old. I love you, my darling."

"As I love you, my dear little slut," I said, kissing her hand. "But we had better tidy ourselves before we reach that restaurant or Waters will be shocked."

Lunch was as good as Waters had promised, and we took a leisurely walk along the beach before we returned to Manhattan. On arrival, the message light on my public line was blinking. I pressed the play button.

"Mr. d'Eaux, this is Winthrop St. Edmonds. We have matters of mutual interest to discuss. Might I suggest that we meet for lunch tomorrow in the executive dining room here? Please call and confirm your arrival time. I'll expect you tomorrow." Click.

Waters appeared in the doorway in time to hear the end of the message. I waved him over.

"It seem I owe you a bottle of Talisker, Waters. Winthrop must really be sweating."

"You aren't going to meet him on his home ground, surely?" asked Li. By way of reply, I addressed Waters.

"Waters, please call the Club and make luncheon reservations for tomorrow, for two. Then call up Mr. St. Edmonds and inform him I'll await his pleasure there tomorrow at 12:30."

"I'll take care of it, sir."

At noon the next day I walked through the doors of the Harvard Club at Fifth Avenue and West 44th Street. Although I am a member, I normally avoid the place because it tends to be populated with businessmen and rising young executives who love nothing so much as talking shop. However, the dining room is passable and it's a convenient place for private business lunches with people I don't care to have in my home. Passing the word to the Club Secretary that I was expecting another member for lunch and could be found in the bar, I collected a San Pellegrino with lemon and aWall Street Journal, and settled down to wait in a quiet corner.

At 12:35 Winthrop St. Edmonds came steaming into view. I saw him inquire at the bar and the bartender motion toward me. St. Edmonds took a large whisky and soda and headed my way. I didn't get up.

"Have a seat," I invited, waving to the chair opposite me. He glared daggers at me but sat, downing half his drink in one gulp. I studied him, waiting for him to make the opening move.

"All right, you young whippersnapper, you've made your point," he growled. "You own or control a bare - avery bare - majority of my company's voting stock. I won't ask how you did it. What I want to know iswhy you did it."

"My reasons are personal," I said. "However, I note that St. Edmonds hasn't kept up with the times and trends in women's cosmetics and fashions as well as it might. You have the potential to become a force in that marketplace, but to make it there you need to make some changes in the way you are doing business."

Winthrop sat back and looked at me. Some of his initial hostility began to evaporate. "Such as?" he asked.

"In the cosmetics end of the business, you've been coasting for much too long on Winslow's formulas without putting money into research. I'm going to suggest you headhunt a wizard research chemist or two away from the big houses, give them a lab and a budget, and get out of their way. It may take a year or two, but research always pays off in the end. They'll be working with a psychologist, a consultant on retainer, who will point them in the directions the market can be penetrated or led.

"At the same time, you and the psychologist are going to search Fashion Avenue and the design colleges for the next Christian Dior or Vera Wang, the undiscovered ones. St. Edmonds has been making fabrics for the clothing industry for more than a century. High time you made a move into high fashion design as well as supplying designers with high fashion fabric, don't you agree?"

Winthrop considered this, staring at his glass. He took a sip. "What you propose could be expensive," he warned. "How do we pay for it?"

"Issue more common stock," I said. "At the same time, begin aggressively marketing your existing products, even if you have to go a little downscale to do it. By the time the research department has new products ready and your first line of clothing is ready to be shown, the name recognition factor will drive up the company's net worth."

The chairman pondered this. Abruptly, he drained his glass, set it down and reached a hand across the table.

"You know, Mr. d'Eaux, we just may be able to get along after all. Shall we go in to lunch?"

Over rare roast beef and potatoes, we continued our discussion. By the time we had reached dessert, we were on a first name basis and the bare bones of the plan to redirect The St. Edmonds Company had been laid out. Winthrop took out a pocket humidor and extracted a cigar, looking at me for permission. I nodded and said nothing until he had it well alight. He called for a brandy and I felt it was time to bring up a point that might shatter the still-fragile accord we had reached.

"You do realize, Winthrop, that you are going to have to reorganize your sales and marketing department into two separate divisions, reporting to an executive vice president for Sales and Marketing."

"Why do you say that?" he said, suspicion clouding his face.

"The present structure is clumsy. The simple fact is you need someone who really understands public relations to handle your marketing, Professor Harold Hill to run your sales department, and a switch-hitter to head up that part of the company. Burry is a good salesman, but he's a lousy executive and he doesn't understand marketing at all. To put a point on it, you need someone who is smarter than a ‘gentleman's C' in the College of Business."

St. Edmonds frowned. "And then there is that accusation your – fiancée made at the board meeting. I didn't like that at all."

"We didn't like making it," I said dryly. "I'd hate to think that a man I've known since we were boys at school together would cook the books for his own benefit. However, I'll stand on whatever the auditor turns up."

"As will I, John," said Winthrop. "If it turns out to be necessary, I will deal with the situation."

Over the next month, plans at The St. Edmonds Company and plans at home moved ahead. Li and Angela were planning our wedding. Nothing elaborate, just a small wedding held at the house. The one disappointment was the adamant refusal of Li's parents to fly in for the ceremony. Even Uncle John's persuasiveness could not shift them. The best he was able to arrange was for them to receive us when we traveled to the Far East on our honeymoon. Li was disappointed, but not overly so. At least the first step on the road to a familial reconciliation had been taken.

At Thursday night dinner with Uncle John and Angela, which had become a pleasant weekly ritual, Uncle John brought up the subject of who would preside at the wedding.

"I take it you don't want the pastor from St. Bart's," he said. "You go there about as often as we do, which is to say once or twice a year."

"No," I said. "We were thinking of a civil ceremony. Do you know anyone who could do it?"

Uncle John hauled out his cell phone and dialed a number from memory.

"John here No, nothing‘s wrong; we‘re all fine. Listen, I need you to do me a favor. Are you doing anything important on the 25th? My nephew is getting married… No, I'd like you to officiate, if you would. You will? Great! We'll expect you. Goodbye." He hung up.

"It's all set. You can check that off the list." Li nodded, and turned to Waters, who was about to serve dessert.

"This may not be the perfect time, Waters, but I've something to ask you."

"Yes, miss?" he said.

"As you know, my parents will not be coming for the wedding. Would you do me the honor of walking me down the aisle and giving me away?"

It was the first time I'd ever seen Waters flustered. When he answered, there was a catch in his voice.

"I would be deeply honored to do so, Miss Li."

So, on the day of our wedding, Fast Eddie stood up with me while Angela served as maid of honor for Li. All the men were in tuxedos (including the Mayor, who officiated over the proceedings) and all the women were in ball gowns. The lone exception was Waters, resplendent in his regimental dress uniform as he escorted Li down the aisle in the ballroom. The party began immediately after the wedding pictures were taken and continued into the wee hours. I don't think the revelers even noticed when Li and I slipped away to spend our wedding night upstate at the manor.

Freshly showered, I donned the black silk bathrobe Li had bought for me and walked into the bedroom. The lights were off and there were candles burning on the bureau, highboy and vanity. A bottle of Moët was chilling in an ice bucket and two flutes were sitting next to it on a small butler's table. The bed had been turned down, but there was no sign of Li. I poured myself a glass of champagne.

"Do you like me this way, darling?"

I turned to the door. Li was standing there in a transparent black silk robe and five inch stiletto-heeled patent leather pumps that strapped above the ankle, a pair she knew I liked to see her wear. Her face was scrubbed and her hair shone like moonlight on a pool of oil. The scent of an expensive perfume wafted its way to me. It s name might have been Bridal Bower, but it should have been called Jungle Lust, as its primary purpose seemed to be to induce the male to grab the female wearing it, rip her clothes off, and ravish her on the spot. She swayed slowly toward me, a cloth bag dangling from one hand. By way of reply to her question, I took her in my arms and kissed her, my tongue tangling with hers as my hands caressed her through the robe. She broke the kiss and sighed happily.

"I never tire of the feel of you, my love. Tonight of all nights, I want to cum for you and have you cum inside me. That's why I brought this along."

She emptied the bag out onto the bed. It contained a mercury glass dildo and a bottle of lubricant. I picked up the dildo and looked at it. The silver glass penis was similar in size to my own; but unlike ever other dildo I'd ever seen in magazines, this one had a hand grip at its base and a stippled guard to limit the total insertion. The effect was as if some lunatic knifemaker had replaced the blade of a fencing foil with a glass cock.

As if reading my thoughts, Li said, "I want to be filled right up so I can orgasm for you more intensely than ever before. Before you bed me, would you put this toy in my ass, my husband? It will feel like I have two of you fucking me."

"If that is what you want, darling, then that is what you will receive," I said, setting down the dildo and slipping a hand inside her robe to cup a breast. "But not immediately. We have all night."

I kissed her again, gently, teasing her lips with my tongue tip. She moaned softly and parted her lips. Our tongues touched and her hand went to my head, pulling me forward, urging me to penetrate her mouth. I obliged her as she began to suck on my tongue, enjoying the feel of it as I tickled her palate while I squeezed her tit and caressed her nipple with my thumb, feeling blood rush into it and it erect against my hand. I broke the kiss and nibbled her earlobe, feeling her shiver deliciously at the sensation.

I kissed my way from ear to breast, taking her left boob into my mouth as I tormented the right nipple with my fingers, pinching, squeezing, pulling and twisting on it as I knew she liked. Li moaned louder and her hips began to move. Her head went back, her eyes closed as she lost herself in the sensations I evoked from her body. She began to whimper.

"Oh yes… oh yes… don't stop… give me more! More! I love it! Hurt me with pleasure! Torture my nipples! Use me, my love! I'm close! So close!"