Marium Aasan Telecom Bitch Ch. 06

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Big Dick

Part VI — The Investigation

It did not take long to realize that the Commercial Liaison Supervisor’s main job was to keep the foreigners busy and out of the hair of the local management team. IQ made sure he was in my pants whenever the need arose but was only intent on using me as a receptacle for his bodily fluids. Munafik remained impervious to my charms; maybe he was gay or something.

Amber and Abida seemed to love their new found status and were delighted to be promoted to worthwhile roles. Importantly, neither of them had resorted to using their bodies to move ahead in the company. They were now doing jobs that actually meant something. On the other hand, I had been fucked and then truly fucked!

Imran would not even talk to me now. Abida was in another office. Amber was too busy. Only Haramoon had time on his hands to comfort me in my sorrows, while hoping for IQ to be away and to get to my naked form again.


Mr. Jameel looked extremely worried and, unlike his usual self, was yelling at everyone in the office. Even Amber could not escape an occasional tongue lashing. It took a while for the folks to discover the problem.

“People,” Mr. Jameel explained to the team now gathered in the conference room, “there are serious allegations from the audit team that irregularities have been noted within the Wireless business. It is critical we get to the bottom of this and sort out anything that is not in the right place.” I had been hearing a few whispers from Munafik and IQ about things being out of kilter but had not realized that the issue would be quite that serious.

“We are being investigated for procuring second rate equipment, accepting favours from vendors, taking commissions from our franchisees, mishandling promotional budgets and a lot of other things; the shit has really hit the fan and we have to get our act together,” he gave us further details.

“But Sir,” the Planning Manager protested, “we keep excellent records of our transactions and have never seen a problem during reconciliations.”

“That is true,” Mr. Jameel conceded, “but when there is even a whiff of wrong doing, the entire scenario is questioned and mistrusted.”

“What’s the plan of action?” one of the regional managers asked.

“Folks, we really all have to work quickly to verify our information and get back to the auditors, any delays from our side make us look guilty,” he laid out a plan of action.

As he spoke I looked around the room. Almost everyone appeared concerned and eager to get to work. The exception was Haramoon, who kept gazing here and there but never at the VP, sweating profusely and looking pasty white. I wondered why he was so bothered.

“The auditors will begin the full investigation on Monday,” Mr. Jameel continued, “the details will be provided soon as I have them, but I imagine the department managers should all plan on seeing them soon.”

As the group dispersed, I noted Haramoon running out of the room and into his office before anyone else even left their seats. I was sure that he had something on his mind and wondered if he was involved in the situation that was developing. My devious mind told me that I had to find out and quickly. The best person to find out from would be the head honcho himself.


“Sir you look tired and in need of a massage,” I walked into the VPs office and offered to help him relax.

“It’s okay Maryum,” he responded, “somebody has seriously messed things up and there is plenty to worry about, I have not been able to sleep well in the last few days.”

“Yes, but a shoulder and neck massage will relax you,” I did not take no for an answer and moved behind his seat. He decided I was determined and let me begin on his neck and shoulders. Soon he further relaxed, loosening his posture and bending forwards, and I started on his upper back as well. The massage obviously was what the doctor had ordered for him. The tension in his body appeared to be diminishing and small moans of appreciation escaped from his mouth. Shortly after that he dozed off to sleep, the aches dissolving under my touch.

I took the opportunity to rotate his chair so he was now sideways to the desk. Coming around to his front, I continued to massage his shoulders and neck. I noted he was sleeping with his head tilted backwards. Upping the ante, I carefully sat down in his lap, placed one of his hands on my shalwar so that my pussy was just below the light cloth, anchored my waist with his other arm, and placed my lips on his mouth. He responded with gusto, obviously kissing his very kissable wife, rather than me, in his dreams.

My shalwar was loose enough, so that when I placed his fingers over my cunt they were able to penetrate into my folds, cloth and all. Mr. Jameel’s fingers worked my pussy and his tongue deeply tracked the insides of my mouth. I returned the passion, playfully biting his tongue in the process. At the same time, my hand had found and lowered his zipper and caught hold of his stiffening Şanlıurfa Escort penis.

All of a sudden he came awake, taking in the most unusual and unexpected scene. He pushed me off and hurriedly put his cock back into his trousers, zipping up a still sizable erection.

“Maryum, what are you doing?” he yelled.

“I am sorry sir, you were enjoying the massage and then pulled me onto your lap and began to kiss me,” I responded, lying through my teeth, “and you are such a handsome and nice person that I just followed along without thinking.”

His anger dissipated, but the outline of a smile was clearly visible on his face. He pulled open his desk drawers and dropped a silky panty into my hand. “Well, if I did not know you better,” he remarked, “I would probably believe your story, but I have a fairly good notion about you,” continuing, “you left your panties behind in my house the other night.”

I began to blush red as the consequences of my actions began to raise questions in my mind.

“Maryum, many of the folks here consider you attractive and worth having sex with,” he said, “I am not one of them, my devotion is to my wife and family. In fact I am wondering if you did get to see how committed I am while my wife was here.”

“I am sorry sir,” I tried to cover my predicament, “I was nowhere around the house when you came back.”

“It’s okay, let’s keep this to ourselves,” he suggested, not convinced that they had not been seen by us, “it is a good thing that you are off to the UAE for a trip real soon, so don’t do anything now to jeopardize this opportunity, least of all making love to your boyfriends in my guest room!”

“Yes sir,” I meekly responded.

“And one final thing,” he added firmly, “there will be no repeat of what happened here a moment ago.”

I thanked him and my stars and ran out the door. Luckily everyone had been busy figuring out how to handle the impending crisis and nobody had decided to stop in on Mr. Jameel while I was trying to seduce him. The good thing was that he had let me off; the trouble was that any equity I had built with him had clearly dissolved. Mr. Jameel was not like IQ or the other guys in the office, I could not blame him; I was not fit to even be in the same room in a beauty contest with his wife!


Mr. Jameel’s inadvertent fingers up my pussy had, however, turned me on considerably and I badly needed release. Imran would not touch me with a ten foot pole and IQ was visiting Swat for a short trip. Mr. Jameel had unceremoniously sent me packing once he had realized what I was up to. That left Haramoon as my only option, how so ever unsatisfying, of putting my fire out.

I went into the bathroom and removed my bra, cutting one of the side straps to make it look like it had come apart by accident. Now, quite bouncy under my fairly see through shirt, I walked into Haramoon’s office.

“Maryum, I am very busy right now, the VP has asked for lots of information, is there something important that you are here for?” he asked hoping for me to leave.

“My bra strap broke at the wrong time. I am not wearing a slip and my boobs are showing,” I managed to get my eyes teary, “I need your help to go to a store and get a new bra right away.”

He looked closely at me and seeing my frontage barely covered by my shirt probably felt a stirring down below, “okay, it is a matter of life and decency, let’s go.”

We were in the store in about ten minutes and I had three new bras, paid for by my chivalrous friend. I suggested we go to the nearby Dunkin Donuts store, which had a covered and fairly private upstairs area. He lived a fair way from Islamabad so I had to get my jollies elsewhere.

Luckily the upstairs was totally empty and we found a section that allowed us to watch the stairs but prevented someone from seeing us if coming up. Without a word, Haramoon sat down in the plush armchair as I pulled my shalwar down and placed my ass in his lap. It took a while for his mini driver to find a hole as big as mine had become, but finally I felt a pleasing sensation as part of my cunt was rhythmically entered and exited.

“You did not put your bra on yet,” Haramoon noted.

“Perhaps you can do the honours,” I responded, handing one over to him.

Since I was already fucking him in a public spot, it was no great stretch to remove my shirt and allow Haramoon to fit my bra on. Most guys are more capable at removing this garment, than putting it on someone, and it took him a fair while before he was done and my sizable breasts were no longer at the mercy of gravity. He did not object as I quickly put my shirt back on.

Thankfully he did it just in time to for us to hear people coming up the stairs. I jumped off his dick and sat across from him, hoping that the furniture would hide the fact that my shalwar was around my ankles. Haramoon had dropped a napkin on his midsection and I could see his cock throbbing under the white paper.

A young couple came in, the guy in his early 20’s, Şanlıurfa Escort Bayan the girl perhaps still in high school. Seeing us already there, they tensed, the girl’s eyes tracking down to under the furniture and widening. She gave her companion an elbow, trying to get him to look under the table where my shalwar was clearly off my legs. It took a few seconds for him to realize what she was indicating, but he agreed soundlessly they would take their coffee to go. Quite possibly we had fucked up their date by being in the café first. Bad for them, but good for us, I surmised. Still, for some odd reason I had the feeling that I had seen the girl somewhere before and wondered if she knew me perchance.

After waiting for a few minutes, so they would leave for sure, Haramoon motioned me back over. His cock rose back to its magnificence of maybe three inches and was soon titillating my pussy. The tension of being discovered and the sexual energy of the moment decreased his ability to last and soon a stickiness spewed into me. Luckily, IQ had got me a packet of birth control pills from the UAE and now I could fuck without unduly worrying about getting pregnant. Given that I had fucked quite a few folks without protection, I was intensely lucky not to have become pregnant to that point though.

I fixed my dress and started on my coffee and doughnut. Haramoon, however, got a hold of my hair and pulled my head down towards his crotch. He had not fucked me in a while and was not letting go without a good release. Between bites of the pastry and sips of the coffee, I sucked on his pecker. It took a while for him to reach his climax and luckily it was not a big discharge, so I was able to take everything in my mouth, washing it down with the beverage.

“Thanks for the fuck and suck, Maryum, you have been ignoring me lately,” he whispered into my ear, “I hope we can do this more often.”

“No, I have not been ignoring you, it is just that there is so much more work to do,” I protested.

“Oh I don’t think there is some much work, but imagine IQ is working you over quite a bit,” he winked at me, indicating that he could care less.

“So you do not mind my being with IQ?” I wondered if my last supporter would soon vanish.

“No, it’s quite okay,” he let me know, “as long as I keep getting a portion of the pie occasionally!”

That relaxed my immediate tension and I turned the discussion to the hot topic in the office.

“So what is happening in the office, everyone looks concerned?” I figured he would be in the know.

“There has been an allegation that members of the wireless team have been taking commissions from franchises to provide short stock items and vendors have bribed some people so that we buy their equipment,” he explained, “both of these are probably true to some extent.”

“What is going to happen now?” I asked, concerned about any potential harm to my position or chances within the company.

“Imagine that the investigation will uncover some hanky-panky and some heads will roll,” he said as a matter of fact.

“Who is in danger?” I pressed on.

“Well the VP will be in trouble since he runs the group, even if he is not directly involved,” he cleared the issue as to Mr. Jameel’s worries, “but I think some other people might also be nailed.

“Mr. Jameel is such a nice guy, I hope nothing happens, the team will not survive his loss,” I truly believed what I said, regardless that he had turned me down flat even though I had thrown myself at him.

“Let’s pray, hope and see what happens,” Haramoon responded, a glazed look coming over his eyes, perhaps as he reflected over what was to transpire in the office.


As expected the auditors were in on Monday and with great pomp, show and ceremony. Out of the blue they had suddenly been given power over a division that was apparently doing fine and delivering results. But to the bean counters, conspiracy, wrong doing and illegality lurked in every nook and cranny of our offices and our minds. No one was above reproach and they could call on anyone at their whim.

Within minutes the business momentum that had built up over the months came to a standstill. Orders were left unfulfilled for fear of misfiling; customer service calls were not entertained as allegations of bribery could follow; the equipment vendors were not even allowed on to the premises ensuring that depleted phone stocks were not being augmented. Sell rates, which were over 3,000 units a day fell to just under 300, and that too because those were processed before 9:30 am! The company, in its drive to stamp out any irregularity, had allowed the auditors to become de facto executioners. Resistance was futile and any dissent with their assessment meant that one was definitely guilty, any proof being totally secondary in their desire to fix things. The Wireless Inquisition, as Mr. Jameel dubbed them, was hell bent on sending the company back to the dark ages.

We soon learned that due to the potential Escort Şanlıurfa depth of the concerns, every office and field sales person would be queried. To start things off, they met with the Assistant Managers and junior supply chain staff. Amber and I wondered when our turns would be coming up. Even Abida, who had recently joined another group, had been called over since she had once handled matters related to the Sales team.

Around 4:30 pm, the three of us were asked to report to the auditors. We learned that we were being separately interviewed by the three team members. I was drawn with the team leader, Amber and Abida were to meet the other managers.

The leading auditor was nearly 50 years old and had been a long-timer in the company. Clearly his mode of questioning and his attitude towards the new management of the company smacked of old ideals. It was evident that he had never amounted to much, but given this opportunity was looking at ways to stroke his ego.

“So Maryum, how many of the franchisees do you know?” he asked, inferring that I knew them better than needed.

“I am assisting the National Franchising Manager, so I would happen to know everyone of them,” I responded, “it is my job to keep in contact with our business partners.”

“So then you must know what is going on wrong up here?” he tried to be direct.

“I wish someone would tell me what is going wrong,” I replied, “the team members here are all honest, hard working and diligent.”

“How would you know that?” he was getting insulting.

“Very easily, they are all here from 9 in the morning to well past 8 in the evening every day and sometimes on weekends,” I gave him my rationale, “there is no other department in the company with such dedicated persons.”

“But my understanding is that all you do here is party?” he alleged.

“Is that how you think the wireless sales have been doubling every two months?” I let him feel my growing anger, “we have achieved more subscribers in one year than the land line folks managed in over 30!”

He then tried a different but rather reprehensible tack. “I hear that many of the team members here lack morality, and there are many affairs happening,” he alleged, “and it is felt that the VP must be involved in illicit activity also.”

“I do not know where you get your information, but the VP is an extremely moral and upright person,” I spat back, “and that is why he has so much respect unlike other managers in the rest of the company.”

The auditor shut his file and stared at me clearly communicating that he knew more than I was letting on. “Young lady, just because you are able to screw around at PT&WC, do not try to get righteous on me!”

As I started to protest he brought up the fact that I had been fucking IQ and was believed to have screwed a dozen or so others.

“Oh shit,” I mumbled, when I should not have been so surprised, my trysts with IQ were common knowledge.

“How about you also show me some of your charms, just like girls in this department have showed people in the office and those from overseas, and I will be nice on you, and maybe to your boss also,” he leered at me.

“And do not think that you can claim innocence,” he added, “you have been sending fake expense claims in to our department for franchise related activities.”

That was news to me, but he persisted, “we can come to a quick arrangement or I can ensure you are out of the company by the end of the week.”

“And by the way, we believe you are also intimate with Haramoon,” he added, “and we are certain he is the real culprit and not the VP.”

“What do you mean?” I blabbered.

“The problems started right after Haramoon was given the charge of managing vendor relations,” he let me know, “and a number of the people he asked for bribes or other favours have complained to us.”

“But why does this involve the VP or myself; you obviously know who is to blame?” I wondered where things were headed.

“Maryum, you and Haramoon have been very intimate and must be sharing the goodies from the vendors and also there is no way the VP is clean either. How can Haramoon carry on without the boss knowing?” he clarified. I knew that he had me as far as my relationship with Haramoon was concerned, but I had not taken any bribes and the VP was only guilty of trusting his subordinate to do his job diligently and honestly.

Things were spinning out of control. I was unaware of what had really happened for him to be laying into me, but the fellow was serious about his intent and could not risk losing my job. And even if all his allegations were not altogether true, he had more credibility and I would be out on the street.

“What would you like me to do?” I conceded to his demand, figuring I had no way out.

“Tomorrow evening, you will come with me for some more debriefing,” he told me, adding, “and do not think of telling anyone.” His meaning was crystal clear, I was going to be losing my briefs and submitting to him.

I figured the danger had ended for the moment, but was a wee bit wrong. He pushed me to one side of the conference room so those outside could not look in. His hands were soon under my clothes, feeling up my breasts, vagina and legs. I felt dirty but was stuck in circumstances not of my own making.

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