You’ve probably heard the words of wisdom about not sleeping around where you work.

But most of the people I know have managed to hook up with their future spouses by making the most of their work-related networks. The feminists today get pissed, but it’s a tale as old as time: men hit on women at conferences, colleagues have affairs — extramarital affairs even — and female supervisors flirt with male subordinates as well. I don’t even bat an eye when I catch my male underlings staring at my tits when I wear a tight sweater. Aren’t we human, after all?

However, most people absolutely refuse to attempt any kind of fun involving family members of the boss — especially the boss’s daughter. Well, I am her, and I’ve made it my sport, if not my business, to see who among my dad’s employees I can get to sleep with me — and naturally, the more elite the employee, the better.

I let my first college boyfriend pop my cherry at 18, and from there, you could say my ambitions soared. Under the guise of being pretty, preppy and precocious, I used to love taking note of which men in my dad’s company were staring at my ass on the tennis court when he’d have meetings at the country club, and who at the company BBQ was studying my firm young tits in my skimpy bikini top. And you might even be surprised to know that some of the middle-aged female executives were even more lecherous than their husbands!

After I turned 21, I tried out my new “super powers” in earnest when I interned at the company that summer. I managed to get one junior partner to fuck me in the parking garage in the back of my dad’s Mercedes. I stole the guy’s necktie and kept it as a souvenir — and everyone kept asking him what happened to it when he returned to work later that afternoon!

And since I like girls, too, I was super proud of myself when I managed to nail a female intern in the gym sauna. Our company’s building has an entire fitness floor, with a pool and a spa. And I waited until she went into the locker room and followed her into the shower. It’s always the shy girls who end up the most wild, of course. We started off tonguing one another in the shower, and then moved to the sauna for a nasty 69 where we stuffed one another’s pussies with fingers and tongues.

Anyway, whenever I was home from college and got to attend a corporate function, I made it my goal to do at least one fuckable person in attendance. But there was one guy who intrigued me but kept giving me the slip.

Phillip was a hot UK import. He’d gone to the best schools and was really smart, and also quite hot in that lanky, blue-eyed Englishman way. I honestly could never figure out why he didn’t ever bring a girlfriend to any corporate events. According to my sources, he wasn’t gay — and I didn’t think he was asexual either, since he’d once mentioned an ex-girlfriend in some context or another.

I always went out of my way to flirt with Phillip, but he seemed aloof. And without intending to sound too cocky, let’s just say I’m not one to usually experience rejection. I’m a tall, slender brunette, with light blue eyes and shoulder-length hair. I have a soft olive-toned complexion and smooth, supple skin. My other genetic gifts include an impressive set of 34Ds.

I love to wear tight-fitting blouses and skirts around the office, and for parties, I always don daring couture. That’s half the fun. Everyone has their eye on the boss’s daughter, but few attendees are brave enough to do more than look. Well, Phillip was one man I paid attention to whenever he was around. I tried not to make it too obvious of course, but it honestly annoyed me that he wasn’t as easy as some of my other conquests.

For example, Jim, a now-retired vice president, was all too eager to risk his pension for a quickie with me on his desk — while my dad was on a conference call just one floor below. Jim — at the time I fucked him — was 60 and divorced. Phillip was somewhere in his late 20s I suspected, when I first sized him up.

Some time had passed since I first met Phillip. I’d finished college and had an incredible year abroad in Italy before I came back to intern for another summer with my dad. By then, I was 23 — and I found out later Philip was 32. Anyway, if his charm and that English accent were not already enough to keep me intrigued, the thought of never scoring the one conquest I was really, really into just about drove me nuts.

A month into my internship that summer, my dad asked me to help coordinate our charity gala, and that’s when I decided I make a full-court press for Phillip.

We rented a beautiful house in the hills for the occasion, and it was a warm California night. The older crowd mostly hung out inside, but around the garden and pool, we had a band and people were dancing. I saw Phillip alone at the outdoor bar and asked him for a dance. I was wearing a backless, halter-top gown with a plunging neckline.

“Lady’s choice?” I extended my hand.

“Of course.” Gotta love British guys for being polite. “How are you, Estella?”

“I’ve been busy,” I replied, gesturing to the event around us.

“I can see that. Everything’s been wonderful — great job.” We stepped on to the dance floor.

“Well, thank you, and congratulations, by the way. I heard you got promoted again.”

Phillip smiled modestly as he said, “Yes — I’ve entered the inner circle of the firm, I suppose.” He rested his hands on my lower back, careful to keep them right on the line between my skin and the dip of my gown.

I pressed a little closer to him and lowered my voice. “Well, you can get inside even more, you know.”

Phillip smiled. “Estella, it seems like you’re trying to get me into trouble.”

“Hardly. I just want you to celebrate this milestone in the way that you deserve.”

“Tut-tut — your father’s watching.” He gestured to the upper deck.

I flashed my dad my most winning smile and waved. He waved back and then was quickly swept into another discussion as more guests vied for his time.

I whispered to Phillip, “He’s not watching now.”

Then I made my move. I reached inside the bodice of my gown. Earlier, in anticipation of having a chance with Phillip, I’d taken off my skimpy lace G-string and tucked it into my dress, right below my breasts. And now I retrieved the panties and stuck them inside his jacket pocket.

“He fucked me until I came and made me clean his dick with my tongue.”

Phillip looked nonplussed. Ever the dry Englishman, he glanced down at his pocket and remarked: “Does he know what you get up to?”

“Hardly. But that’s not what concerns me. I’m interested in getting you up — if you’re game.”

“Rugby’s a game. Fucking is something else.”

“Good, then you can show me.” I smirked, and finally then, Phillip’s facade seemed to slip a little.

“Are you serious, Estella?”

“Yes. Although, you’re the one who pointed out it’s not a game… but I think it’s quite fun.” The music ended, and people applauded. “But if you do want to play — or fuck — follow me.”

Phillip raised his eyebrows, and I motioned toward the edge of the patio. I meandered through the crowd a little bit ahead of him, moving slowly, so it wouldn’t look like we were spiriting off together. But every time I looked back through the crowd, I could see Phillip sizing me up, every inch of me.

I headed to the tiny pool house on the very edge of the grounds that I’d scouted out earlier. But, believe it or not, Phillip had somehow beaten me there. He held open the door for me.

“Well… here you are,” I said, unable to hide my surprise.

“Yes, well, I inferred where you were going and took a little shortcut.”

I laughed, but he shut me up with a kiss. I pulled the door shut and let him yank me down onto the couch. And that’s when the mild-mannered Englishman surprised me with his beastly nature.

I gasped as Phillip ripped off the clasp of my halter, exposing my tits. He pinched my left nipple and licked the other one. “I bet you’re already wet, aren’t you?” he whispered.

“Why don’t you find out?” I challenged.

Phillip’s fingers found my clit instantly. “Oh my,” he whispered, sliding a finger inside me. “You have been a busy, busy girl.”

“Fuck me, please!”

Phillip tsked. “I think you need to earn your reward.” He tossed off his tuxedo jacket and unzipped his pants.

I stared entranced at his huge uncut cock, then made eye contact with him as I knelt down and opened my mouth as wide as it could go.

Phillip grabbed my hair and thrust himself inside, making me swallow down almost the entire length of his dick in one go. He groaned, and then said, “You get my cock wet, too, and then I’ll fuck your cunt. And then I’ll make you lick your pussy juices off it.”

I scratched his buttocks with my fingernails, sucking and gagging — and getting wetter by the minute.

Finally, when I thought I was going to drown in a puddle of my own juice, Phillip pulled his cock out of my mouth and put me down on the floor. With my legs over his shoulders, he entered me and we started fucking.

And as he’d promised, he fucked me until I came and then made me clean his dick with my tongue. We screwed until daybreak. I had only anticipated a little quickie. I was also used to calling all the shots, but with Phillip I got in way deeper than I ever expected. For the first time ever, my conquest captured me.