I was going to New York to take over a struggling branch of my company, and my boss told me I would be the newest and brightest new branch president.  I arrived at The Plaza, which is supposed to be one of New York's finest hotels. When I went to my room, my expectations were met and exceeded. My former administrative assistant Emily set this all up, along with the number of my new one.

I rested my eyes briefly, then decided to call my new assistant. I pulled out my notes from her to get the number, saw it, and laughed. It had to be a joke, but I knew it was not. Who would want this number? As I started singing, eight six seven five three o nine. I had to look again to be sure her name was not Jenny. Where was Tommy Tutone when you needed him? Thank the good lord, her name was Missy.

After I stopped laughing and singing, I dialed the number. She picked up the line and asked, "Who the hell is this? I am so sick and tired of you damn telemarketers. What are you selling? Insurance or timeshares, or what else? Please tell me."

I tried to interrupt her. "Miss, please let me tell you." To no avail. 

She started right back in, telling me, "You know I work long hours and don't have time for this shit. Who the fuck do you think you are? I have better things to do than waste my time listening to your garbage, you piece of crap. Just because of my phone number, assholes like you think it's funny to call me. I can't wait to tell the authorities about you."  

I asked her. "Is this Missy?" 

She replied, "Yes, what of it?"

I asked, trying to hide my laughter and doing my best Tommy Tutone's impression, "Is this eight six seven five three o nine?"

She screams back at me, "Yes, so what of it?"

I said, "Missy, this is Dixon, Dixon Butts, your new boss. Emily called you and told you I was coming to New York."

A moment of silence from her cackling. Missy yells back at me, "I got no such call from her, and you are full of crap. I will check my voicemail, but I doubt I have any of that on it. So, for now, if you never hear from me, you dumb ass, have a nice life." She hung up on me.

I got up from my chair, steam coming out of my collar, and walked over to mix myself a very strong drink. I knew what my first order of business would be when I showed up on Monday. She had to go. I won't have a potty mouth with a bad attitude like that working for me. I thought about calling Emily but decided I would just show up on Monday and watch her pray for her job, the damn bitch.

Within thirty minutes and a few drinks, I was comfortably numb. I decided that I would get undressed and head to bed. I was struggling, thinking about that damn bitch and how she spoke to me.  

I was dozing off when my cell phone rang. When I looked at the caller ID, I saw it was my new favorite person calling me. It was the bitch. I answered, "Hello, Missy; how can I help you?" 

Whimpering like a small child, Missy, said to me, "Oh please, Sir, forgive me. I was having a bad day. I don't usually speak that way to anyone. Please, please forgive me. I checked my voicemail, and you were correct. I was supposed to help you get settled in New York. I will do anything, and I mean anything, to save my job."

I thought to myself this might be fun. I was chuckling, hearing her pleas for her job, when I asked her, "Do you have Facetime? I want to see who would speak to me in such a manner."

She replied. "Um, yes, I do, but I am a mess. Please do not make me go on Facetime, Sir." 

I asked her, "Do you want to save your job?"

She replied in a meek voice, "Yes, of course I do. I will do anything to save it."

I told her, "Then do it. I will give you five minutes to fix yourself. I will get another drink, and when I come back, you better be on FaceTime."

I was going to make this bitch grovel for her job. I picked up my phone, and she was looking right at me. I could not believe what I was seeing. My eyes fell out of my head. Her hair was reddish brown; her eyes were root beer brown; and her ruby red lips, she was a goddess. I felt my shorts grow just looking at her.

I said, "Missy, you look fine to me. What was the problem? You can also quit calling me Sir. You can call me Dixon or Mister Butts."

I saw her lips quiver. She said, "Mister Butts, I was in my night clothes and did not think it proper for you to see me that way."

I asked her, "What are night clothes?" I could see her look away and then down at herself. 

She said, "Well, Sir, I sleep in the nude."  

At this point, I was hard as a rock thinking of her nude. I did not care what she called me anymore; maybe Sir was more fitting.

I then told her, "Missy, I want you to be comfortable as we talk about your attitude. I want you to go back and get ready for bed." 

She sheepishly said. "Okay, anything for you, Sir. I will do anything to save my job. I need the money, and these jobs are impossible to find in New York." 

I could see her pull off her shirt over her head, and I now knew she was nude. I pulled my cock out of my boxers and slowly started stroking. I gulped down my drink and was feeling no pain. 

I told Missy, "Do you want to keep your job? If you do, point your phone down so I may get the full view of you and see if you are qualified for the job."

She says. "But, but, Sir, you will see me nude?"

Looking at her sternly, I replied, "I know, and if you don't, you won't have a job come Monday, so do it."

She scanned her camera phone up and down her body. I thought she was a goddess before, but now I didn't know what category to put her in. She was almost perfect. Her boobs were exactly the size I loved. She had beautiful abs and legs, which were to die for. Although she had a full bush, which I was not crazy about.

Snickering, I told her, "Missy, you look very qualified for the job, and I know just how to use someone with your qualifications."

She smiled at me and asked, "Mister Butts, does this mean I can keep my job?"

I was scanning her as I told her, "Let's not get carried away here. First, I have some tasks for you to do to see if you can keep your job. You have a lovely figure, but I wouldn't say I like full bushes like yours. So, Missy, I will watch you shave off your fur. So, get your razor, and let's get started." 

She whimpered, "Do I really have to do that? I feel so humiliated. Is there any way I won't have to do that?"

I replied firmly, "No, not if you want to keep your job."  She nodded at me and disappeared from my sight.

A few minutes later, she reappeared holding a lady razor. I see her sitting down on a towel on her toilet. I knew the razor was going down towards her pussy, but I couldn't see a damn thing.

I yelled into the phone, "Missy, I can't see you do it. Move your phone right in front of you so I can see." I saw the phone moving around and finally placed it right in front of her, where I could see clearly.  

She asked me. "Sir, is this view okay now?"  

I told her, "Perfect. I want you to do it slowly."    

She started shaving slowly, taking great care of herself so I could see. She began on the outside of her vagina. Moving the razor back and forth is almost like mowing your yard. I could see her wetness appear on her folds and knew she was enjoying it almost as much as me.

She was halfway done when she asked me, "Sir, is this what you wanted?" 

I replied, "Perfect, Missy, but now I want you to touch your clit as you shave the other side."

Without hesitation, she placed her finger on her button, and I could hear her begin to moan. She shaved what was left so she could focus on herself. One finger went into her love canal, followed by a second finger. She was fucking herself and did not care I was watching. She was getting soaked as her juice spilled out on the towel. 

Through a muffled voice, she told me, "Oh, Sir, this feels so good. Fuck, this feels so good. Look at what you have done for me. May I cum for you now? Would you want to see that? Do you like the way I shaved for you? I wish you were here. May I keep my job, Sir?" 

I told her. "Yes, I liked the way you shaved. I do want you to cum for me, and don't stop until I tell you to." I was stroking my cock and was getting close to blowing my load all over my phone. I asked her, "Missy, do you like your new boss? I want you to look down at your phone now." She looked at her phone, and I am sure all she could see was my cock and me stroking it. I asked, "Missy, if I was there, would you let me cum in your mouth? Would you rather I came in you?"

She started fucking herself even harder and told me, "Oh god, yes, Sir, cum wherever you want to. Make me your cum slut."   

I could not take it anymore and told her, "Watch your phone. All this cum is for you."  I blew my load on and over my phone. I saw her pull her fingers out of her pussy and taste them, one by one, and lick them clean.

I fell back into my chair and went limp for a moment. She asked me, "Sir, do I get to keep my job now? I really need my job. Please, please, let me keep it."  

I thought for a moment. Then I told her, "Missy, you did well to follow my instructions and may have earned your job now. Monday is another day. So, we will see about that on Monday. Please bring your razor to work, as I think you may have missed a spot or two. I will trim those spots up for you."

She blushed and said, "Sir, I would love that." 

You may have thought that was the end, but it was only the beginning. We have been married for over three years, and if razor prices keep going up, I may be broke soon. She still has the same numbers. Eight, six, seven, five, three, o, nine. You figure out the area code.