runningsoft
Well-Known Member
~BBW, Lesbian, Sex ~MWG - an undercover big caper gets bigger than anticipated
Author's Prologue: It is 2025. Diabetes and Obesity were slowly killing the country until a radical law was passed 5 years ago: the Cocoa Initiative Act.
The Candy Bar industry was hit hardest and was blamed by Congress for the expanding waistline of America, forcing nearly all confectionary facilities to close their doors…All but two rival companies with their hands deep in government pockets.
With the price of cocoa reaching unprecedented levels and a potential amendment to the Cocoa Initiative Act, one company must sabotage the other in order to reign supreme as the only manufacturet of sweet, fattening food in all of America…
Chapter 1: Amendments
It was late Monday morning and Tom Whitman was already getting irritated. He got up out of his chair and walked over to the liquor cabinet.
“Anyone want one? It’s going to be a long week.”
Nobody replied. They never did.
Smiling inwardly, Whitman reached for a tumbler, dropped in a few ice cubes with the tongs from the ice bucket. He then added 4 fingers of a brownish liquid to the tumbler and swirled the glass, watching the ice tinkle and melt slightly before knocking back half the glass with a single gulp.
He refilled it and turned back to his fellow board members and took up the mantle at the head of the table.
Tom nodded to the end of the table where a nervous looking young man stood, laptop in one hand, powerpointer in the other.
The man got up, cleared his throat and addressed the table.
“Thank you Mr. Whitman,” he said.
“Tom’s fine, Paul. I’m not a CEO who needs to be coddled to. Just get on with it.”
The young man dimmed the lights and fired up his presentation on the projector. A logo of a well-known chocolate bar manufacturing company appeared. Paul cleared his throat again.
“Gentleman and ladies, you have hired me on for the past 18 months to do a complete overhaul on your data keeping records and see where you stand next to your sole competitor. The data is not promising.”
He clicked to the next slide which showed a bar graph. Tom leaned forward in his chair and took another pull at his drink. He wasn’t a whiz with numbers, but any 5th grader could have told him that the graph was bad news.
Paul began pointing to the timeline at the bottom of the graph, “Since the beginning of the Cocoa Initiative Act 5 years ago, this company has shown a steady decline after the third year.”
“It was a wise decision by this company to purchase up floundering smaller chocolate manufacturing companies. Despite the Act it has remained one of the only two Chocolate Bar manufacturing companies still existing in the continental US.”
At this Tom looked over to his left and gave a nod to Charles Roth, his right-hand man who was instrumental in scooping up several small companies. It was through the work of Charlie that they were now 50% of the US market.
The only thing remaining was their rival, who also held 50% of the market value.
Paul clicked to another slide and continued, “But over those last 3 years, your rivals have begun to pull ahead and show no signs of slowing down. Despite your shared playing field of 50% of the market; they actually show a production value over the last 3 years steadily increasing by 10% or more.”
He took off his glasses and gave them a wipe with a cloth, which he returned to his pocket. “Gentleman, in short; if we crunch the numbers—which I have—this company now holds 34% of the market share. My firm shows that you stand to lose a further 4% by the end of the third quarter.”
Charles Roth cleared his throat, “We’ve only got one-third market share? Paul, what are our options? I mean, where do you see us by the fourth quarter by Christmas time; how about the holidays?”
“Again, it looks grim Charlie. With the Act preventing any outsourcing to foreign companies, you’ve got to work within the boundaries of the Act as it stands presently.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, there is talk about the law being amended. It’s been drafted and I’ve seen it.”
“And?” said Charlie, leaning forward, hands folded.
“It looks like there is some wiggle room that will work in the favor of this company and more importantly against your rivals.”
Tom Whitman smiled thinly and smacked his hand down on the table, causing the other 12 members of the board and Paul to jump slightly.
“Hah! That’s great news Paul! That’s why we pay you the big bucks!”
Paul inclined his head but said nothing, clicking the final slide, which brought back up the company logo. The presentation came to a close.
Tom stood signaling the end of the meeting; Paul turned back up the lights.
“Okay everyone, great work. Paul – hand out those folders to each board member to take back to our other plants across the country and tell them everything is going to be just fine. Whatever new data you’ve discovered about the Amendment Act I’m sure is fully detailed in those folders. Great job everyone.”
Tom picked up his half-finished drink, slammed it back and leaned forward over the table, feeling the alcohol flush creeping up into his cheeks.
He picked up his own folder and made to leave the board room. “Charlie, Paul: My office, 20 minutes.”
Chapter 2: Tom’s Flash(Flesh)back
Tom took the private elevator to the top floor of the building. His building. He got out and walked down the corridor and winked at his secretary.
“Giselle, no calls for the rest of the day.”
She nodded and smiled, “Yes Mr. Whitman.”
Tom entered his office, lavishly furnished with art deco, expensive statues and various other personal trophies. He dropped his folder onto his desk, loosened his tie and turned back to look at the closed door that hid his secretary.
Giselle, a secretary of 31 was a fantastic specimen thought Whitman. Tall at 5’9’’; 180 pounds, a brunette with a pretty face, large breasts, hips and a great ass. Perfect.
“She looks like she’s added a few,” thought Tom with a smile.
He walked over to his couch and kicked off his loafers, reminiscing about last year’s Christmas Party like it was yesterday….
++++++
Tom was in his office wrapping up a long and boring conference call out West.
The meeting was going badly and he was getting pissed. He was on his exercise bike to help alleviate stress and was finishing up a 30-mile interval set. Giselle, through the intercom had asked how much longer he might be, as it was getting close to the opening toast for the office and their families that he himself was to deliver.
“Just a minute. I’m wrapping up with California. Is my tux ready?”
“Yes sir, just arrived.”
“Good. And tell Charlie I’ll be there in 45 minutes; he can stall them—he’s good for ad-libbing. Tell him California is trying to give us the reach around. He’ll know what that means.”
Tom had knocked out the last few miles at breakneck pace and was pleased.
He slugged some water and walked into his private bathroom to hit the showers. He let the water cascade over his well-toned body, muscles bulging.
He stood under the water, letting the steamy heat invigorate him before turning the water icy cold and feeling the sting of its chill needling his entire body.
Refreshed, he grabbed a towel and dried himself and walked over to where Giselle had laid out his suit for him, obviously having entered his office while he was in the shower. He went over to his drink cabinet and poured himself a triple-neat and took a long pull feeling the heat rise in his cheeks.
Just then, the door of his office opened and in stepped Giselle with a stack of envelopes. She had her head down focused on what she was doing; when she looked up, let out a gasp and dropped the stack.
“Oh my ,,,! I’m so sorry Mr. Whitman!”
She shut her eyes and knelt down reaching for the papers like a blind woman.
She leant particularly far forward for one folder and her skirt made a ripping
sound in the back. Reddening, she reached back dropping the folders and covering her hands with her backside.
Tom looked at her, drink in hand and let out a chuckle.
“I-I’m so SO sorry,” she began.
Tom held up a hand and put down the drink, “Hey, don’t worry about it. You can get those later. But look, you’ve ruined your skirt.”
Giselle stood up, hands still on her backside and looking extremely embarrassed.
Tom noticed that with her hands covering her rear, her blouse was strained and he could see a black bra and ample flesh peeking through the strained fabric. He took a step forward to begin helping her lift up the folders when his towel came away and fell to the floor.
Now it was Tom’s turn to redden. Giselle’s hands went to her mouth but she couldn’t look away. She was staring at his member, which was slightly hardened.
“Oh—oh my...” she started, still gazing down.
Tom noted that her breath became a little heavier and her nipples hardened underneath her blouse.
“This has never happened to me before,” he quipped, making no effort to grab the towel or to cover himself.
“M-me neither,” she stammered leaning forward unconscious closer towards him.
In an instant, they locked lips, hands tentatively running up and down each other’s bodies. Hers along his firm contour, his along her soft ones.
She pulled back for an instant, “maybe we shouldn’t be doing this…I-I’m in a relationship…”
He held her in his strong arms, gazing down at her beautiful face, hair coming undone and draping her face in strands making her look even more desirable, “Well, it is Christmas, and you’ve already seen my unwrapped present…”
Letting the innuendo hang in the air, her resolve broke and they resumed. Her hands slowly made their way down to his member, which was pressing firmly against the front of her skirt, throbbing.
Tom’s hands quickly unbuttoned her blouse and undid her torn skirt, letting both pieces of fabric fall to the floor. Breathing heavily, they took awkward steps towards his liquor cabinet and he pinned her there, hands cupping her ass and lifting her up onto the table.
“Mmmm, ooohh,” she moaned biting her lower lip as Tom ran a hand through her dark hair and pulled.
Tom continued massaging her ass with his remaining hand, noting that it was large, round and soft. Between kisses, he stole glances of her profile and noted with relish that she was actually a bit chubby. His kind of woman.
Running his hands along the sides of her backside he felt that her panties were cutting into her sides giving her pleasant love handles, her thighs soft and fleshy. Her belly protruded slightly, hanging over her panties which displayed a cute little u-bend. Tom gave her tummy a playful slap and watched it giggle erotically.
He looked down at her and she was staring up into his eyes, her hands behind her back reaching to remove her own bra.
“You like me?” she breathed, brushing a lock of hair out of her eyes.
“You’re dynamite.” And they mashed their mouths together once again.
“You like a girl who is a bit bigger?” she breathed as she broke away again, gasping for air.
“It turns me on.”
“I’ve gained so much since I’ve started working here, all these chocolates….so delicious, so amazing…”
As Tom leaned inwards, he could feel her warm fleshy breasts mashing against his hard chest, her nipples hard with desire and her breathing becoming labored.
“Oooh, Ohh, do me right here…” she moaned, fingers digging into his back, pulling him close so that her soft belly touched his solid one.
Tom expertly slid her panties to the side and felt his way towards her vagina.
He was pleased when his member grazed across a neat patch of pubic hair as he descended towards her moist sex…
++++++
Tom was 90 minutes late for the Christmas Party that year. The official office rumor was that his Porsche stalled and took a taxi; something the office knew he never did—he hadn’t taken a friggin’ cab since he was in his early twenties after all. However, since that amazing night, they had become regular lovers and Tom was perfectly okay with her gaining a bit of weight over the last several months.
<brrr brrr brrr>
Tom was stirred awake from his reverie to the sound of the intercom.
(Continued in post 3 of this thread)
Chocolate Finger
by Runningsoft
by Runningsoft
Author's Prologue: It is 2025. Diabetes and Obesity were slowly killing the country until a radical law was passed 5 years ago: the Cocoa Initiative Act.
The Candy Bar industry was hit hardest and was blamed by Congress for the expanding waistline of America, forcing nearly all confectionary facilities to close their doors…All but two rival companies with their hands deep in government pockets.
With the price of cocoa reaching unprecedented levels and a potential amendment to the Cocoa Initiative Act, one company must sabotage the other in order to reign supreme as the only manufacturet of sweet, fattening food in all of America…
Chapter 1: Amendments
It was late Monday morning and Tom Whitman was already getting irritated. He got up out of his chair and walked over to the liquor cabinet.
“Anyone want one? It’s going to be a long week.”
Nobody replied. They never did.
Smiling inwardly, Whitman reached for a tumbler, dropped in a few ice cubes with the tongs from the ice bucket. He then added 4 fingers of a brownish liquid to the tumbler and swirled the glass, watching the ice tinkle and melt slightly before knocking back half the glass with a single gulp.
He refilled it and turned back to his fellow board members and took up the mantle at the head of the table.
Tom nodded to the end of the table where a nervous looking young man stood, laptop in one hand, powerpointer in the other.
The man got up, cleared his throat and addressed the table.
“Thank you Mr. Whitman,” he said.
“Tom’s fine, Paul. I’m not a CEO who needs to be coddled to. Just get on with it.”
The young man dimmed the lights and fired up his presentation on the projector. A logo of a well-known chocolate bar manufacturing company appeared. Paul cleared his throat again.
“Gentleman and ladies, you have hired me on for the past 18 months to do a complete overhaul on your data keeping records and see where you stand next to your sole competitor. The data is not promising.”
He clicked to the next slide which showed a bar graph. Tom leaned forward in his chair and took another pull at his drink. He wasn’t a whiz with numbers, but any 5th grader could have told him that the graph was bad news.
Paul began pointing to the timeline at the bottom of the graph, “Since the beginning of the Cocoa Initiative Act 5 years ago, this company has shown a steady decline after the third year.”
“It was a wise decision by this company to purchase up floundering smaller chocolate manufacturing companies. Despite the Act it has remained one of the only two Chocolate Bar manufacturing companies still existing in the continental US.”
At this Tom looked over to his left and gave a nod to Charles Roth, his right-hand man who was instrumental in scooping up several small companies. It was through the work of Charlie that they were now 50% of the US market.
The only thing remaining was their rival, who also held 50% of the market value.
Paul clicked to another slide and continued, “But over those last 3 years, your rivals have begun to pull ahead and show no signs of slowing down. Despite your shared playing field of 50% of the market; they actually show a production value over the last 3 years steadily increasing by 10% or more.”
He took off his glasses and gave them a wipe with a cloth, which he returned to his pocket. “Gentleman, in short; if we crunch the numbers—which I have—this company now holds 34% of the market share. My firm shows that you stand to lose a further 4% by the end of the third quarter.”
Charles Roth cleared his throat, “We’ve only got one-third market share? Paul, what are our options? I mean, where do you see us by the fourth quarter by Christmas time; how about the holidays?”
“Again, it looks grim Charlie. With the Act preventing any outsourcing to foreign companies, you’ve got to work within the boundaries of the Act as it stands presently.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, there is talk about the law being amended. It’s been drafted and I’ve seen it.”
“And?” said Charlie, leaning forward, hands folded.
“It looks like there is some wiggle room that will work in the favor of this company and more importantly against your rivals.”
Tom Whitman smiled thinly and smacked his hand down on the table, causing the other 12 members of the board and Paul to jump slightly.
“Hah! That’s great news Paul! That’s why we pay you the big bucks!”
Paul inclined his head but said nothing, clicking the final slide, which brought back up the company logo. The presentation came to a close.
Tom stood signaling the end of the meeting; Paul turned back up the lights.
“Okay everyone, great work. Paul – hand out those folders to each board member to take back to our other plants across the country and tell them everything is going to be just fine. Whatever new data you’ve discovered about the Amendment Act I’m sure is fully detailed in those folders. Great job everyone.”
Tom picked up his half-finished drink, slammed it back and leaned forward over the table, feeling the alcohol flush creeping up into his cheeks.
He picked up his own folder and made to leave the board room. “Charlie, Paul: My office, 20 minutes.”
Chapter 2: Tom’s Flash(Flesh)back
Tom took the private elevator to the top floor of the building. His building. He got out and walked down the corridor and winked at his secretary.
“Giselle, no calls for the rest of the day.”
She nodded and smiled, “Yes Mr. Whitman.”
Tom entered his office, lavishly furnished with art deco, expensive statues and various other personal trophies. He dropped his folder onto his desk, loosened his tie and turned back to look at the closed door that hid his secretary.
Giselle, a secretary of 31 was a fantastic specimen thought Whitman. Tall at 5’9’’; 180 pounds, a brunette with a pretty face, large breasts, hips and a great ass. Perfect.
“She looks like she’s added a few,” thought Tom with a smile.
He walked over to his couch and kicked off his loafers, reminiscing about last year’s Christmas Party like it was yesterday….
++++++
Tom was in his office wrapping up a long and boring conference call out West.
The meeting was going badly and he was getting pissed. He was on his exercise bike to help alleviate stress and was finishing up a 30-mile interval set. Giselle, through the intercom had asked how much longer he might be, as it was getting close to the opening toast for the office and their families that he himself was to deliver.
“Just a minute. I’m wrapping up with California. Is my tux ready?”
“Yes sir, just arrived.”
“Good. And tell Charlie I’ll be there in 45 minutes; he can stall them—he’s good for ad-libbing. Tell him California is trying to give us the reach around. He’ll know what that means.”
Tom had knocked out the last few miles at breakneck pace and was pleased.
He slugged some water and walked into his private bathroom to hit the showers. He let the water cascade over his well-toned body, muscles bulging.
He stood under the water, letting the steamy heat invigorate him before turning the water icy cold and feeling the sting of its chill needling his entire body.
Refreshed, he grabbed a towel and dried himself and walked over to where Giselle had laid out his suit for him, obviously having entered his office while he was in the shower. He went over to his drink cabinet and poured himself a triple-neat and took a long pull feeling the heat rise in his cheeks.
Just then, the door of his office opened and in stepped Giselle with a stack of envelopes. She had her head down focused on what she was doing; when she looked up, let out a gasp and dropped the stack.
“Oh my ,,,! I’m so sorry Mr. Whitman!”
She shut her eyes and knelt down reaching for the papers like a blind woman.
She leant particularly far forward for one folder and her skirt made a ripping
sound in the back. Reddening, she reached back dropping the folders and covering her hands with her backside.
Tom looked at her, drink in hand and let out a chuckle.
“I-I’m so SO sorry,” she began.
Tom held up a hand and put down the drink, “Hey, don’t worry about it. You can get those later. But look, you’ve ruined your skirt.”
Giselle stood up, hands still on her backside and looking extremely embarrassed.
Tom noticed that with her hands covering her rear, her blouse was strained and he could see a black bra and ample flesh peeking through the strained fabric. He took a step forward to begin helping her lift up the folders when his towel came away and fell to the floor.
Now it was Tom’s turn to redden. Giselle’s hands went to her mouth but she couldn’t look away. She was staring at his member, which was slightly hardened.
“Oh—oh my...” she started, still gazing down.
Tom noted that her breath became a little heavier and her nipples hardened underneath her blouse.
“This has never happened to me before,” he quipped, making no effort to grab the towel or to cover himself.
“M-me neither,” she stammered leaning forward unconscious closer towards him.
In an instant, they locked lips, hands tentatively running up and down each other’s bodies. Hers along his firm contour, his along her soft ones.
She pulled back for an instant, “maybe we shouldn’t be doing this…I-I’m in a relationship…”
He held her in his strong arms, gazing down at her beautiful face, hair coming undone and draping her face in strands making her look even more desirable, “Well, it is Christmas, and you’ve already seen my unwrapped present…”
Letting the innuendo hang in the air, her resolve broke and they resumed. Her hands slowly made their way down to his member, which was pressing firmly against the front of her skirt, throbbing.
Tom’s hands quickly unbuttoned her blouse and undid her torn skirt, letting both pieces of fabric fall to the floor. Breathing heavily, they took awkward steps towards his liquor cabinet and he pinned her there, hands cupping her ass and lifting her up onto the table.
“Mmmm, ooohh,” she moaned biting her lower lip as Tom ran a hand through her dark hair and pulled.
Tom continued massaging her ass with his remaining hand, noting that it was large, round and soft. Between kisses, he stole glances of her profile and noted with relish that she was actually a bit chubby. His kind of woman.
Running his hands along the sides of her backside he felt that her panties were cutting into her sides giving her pleasant love handles, her thighs soft and fleshy. Her belly protruded slightly, hanging over her panties which displayed a cute little u-bend. Tom gave her tummy a playful slap and watched it giggle erotically.
He looked down at her and she was staring up into his eyes, her hands behind her back reaching to remove her own bra.
“You like me?” she breathed, brushing a lock of hair out of her eyes.
“You’re dynamite.” And they mashed their mouths together once again.
“You like a girl who is a bit bigger?” she breathed as she broke away again, gasping for air.
“It turns me on.”
“I’ve gained so much since I’ve started working here, all these chocolates….so delicious, so amazing…”
As Tom leaned inwards, he could feel her warm fleshy breasts mashing against his hard chest, her nipples hard with desire and her breathing becoming labored.
“Oooh, Ohh, do me right here…” she moaned, fingers digging into his back, pulling him close so that her soft belly touched his solid one.
Tom expertly slid her panties to the side and felt his way towards her vagina.
He was pleased when his member grazed across a neat patch of pubic hair as he descended towards her moist sex…
++++++
Tom was 90 minutes late for the Christmas Party that year. The official office rumor was that his Porsche stalled and took a taxi; something the office knew he never did—he hadn’t taken a friggin’ cab since he was in his early twenties after all. However, since that amazing night, they had become regular lovers and Tom was perfectly okay with her gaining a bit of weight over the last several months.
<brrr brrr brrr>
Tom was stirred awake from his reverie to the sound of the intercom.
(Continued in post 3 of this thread)
