Corinna's Awakening

Chapter 1 The Guy with the Camera

The picture of Corina.
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The first day of any new job is nerve-wracking. No amount of preparation or confidence in your abilities can ever really quell the nerves. Mostly, for me, it's about meeting new people. I hate it; it's so fake and forced and just awful. Sure, I might make a few friends eventually. But that first day - it's the worst.

So, when I walked into Goodman and Stern on that sunny August day, I was trying to hold my head high, look approachable, friendly. The opposite of how I felt. I smiled and shook hands with people as I met them, then began setting up my desk next to who I supposed would become my new cubicle-buddy, an older woman named Cindy. Churchy, judgmental, trying-too-hard type, I could tell right away. She gave me a tight little smile and a perfunctory handshake, looking me up and down with thinly veiled distain. As the day wore on, I was taken on tours and given names of people to call for help should I need it. I felt overwhelmed by all the information, paperwork and training manuals and by lunchtime I needed a break, so I sat in my car and trying to do breathing exercises, to no avail. I went back inside and tried to start in on some of the training papers that needed to be turned in by the end of the week.

Then I saw him. I couldn't remember his name, wasn't even sure I had ever known it. But you know when you just know a face? The set of a jaw, the shape of the eyes. I knew I had met him somewhere, he was so familiar to me. But I just couldn't place him. I'd been staring for a few moments when he approached me.

"Hi. Enzo Benetii. I'm the manager of this department. And you are...?" He stuck out his hand, cocking his eyebrow at me. Handsome, boyish good looks, dark hair and blue eyes, tight body, obviously worked out... I struggled to speak, as the realization of who he was dawned on me suddenly, like a sucker punch to the gut. I felt the blood drain from my face and my entire body tense. I couldn't tell if he recognized me yet. If he did, he was good at hiding it. Oh, but I bet he'll remember after a while...

I sucked in a deep breath and shook his hand with as much warmth and enthusiasm as I could muster, given my intense reaction to his presence. "Oh, Hi...Mr. Benetii . I'm Corinna. Corinna Lopez. It's very... nice to meet you." I said, thankful that my voice sounded level and only slightly shaky, which could be passed off as typical first day jitters. Everyone gets 'em, right?

He let go of my hand and smiled congenially. "Welcome to the team, Corinna. We're glad to have you. Please let me know if you need any help as you get accustomed to everything here. I'm just over there in that office," he said, waving an arm behind him to indicate a corner office with windows facing into the main hub, blinds currently pulled up.

"Great. Yes. I'll...do that." I sputtered, sounding more and more idiotic as the conversation wore on. I smiled, my most charming smile, and continued, "Thank you, Mr. Benetii . I guess I'll just finish getting set up here."

"Of course. I'll leave you to it." With a quick smile, he turned and walked to his office. I noticed that he closed the blinds when he went in this time. I hoped he wasn't in there, thinking about where he knew me from.

+++

I'd met Enzo Benetii a lifetime ago. Well, met is a very loose term. I'd seen him. He'd seen me. That was about it, but it was enough to make me rethink this job for fear of recognition.

It had been 8 years ago, when I was 19, at a frat party. I'd dragged my friend along, despite her protests, in hopes of scoring some weed and sucking some guy's cock in the basement. I'd gotten a lot more than I'd bargained for. The air had been thick with testosterone, with drunken cries and smoke and thudding music blaring from cheap speakers. I hadn't had anything to drink, in fact, I was stone-cold sober the whole night. Totally aware of what I was doing. I had teased a lot of the guys, with little grabs and pets here and there. A promise of more to come. Oh, and how it had come. By midnight, I'd been stuffed full of cock. I was dick-drunk. Fucking, sucking, unable to stop the whirlwind that had somehow consumed me. I'd always fantasized about it, being used by multiple men, their come on my face and tits, drying there, marking me as a whore. Somehow it had all just unfolded. There was a guy, on the periphery, I could tell he wanted a turn. Wanted a ride on the fuck machine, so to speak. But he'd been a bit shy about it, and retreated to his room for the night at some point, I'd assumed. I'd been wrong, though, because later he had reemerged to join the party once more, this time armed with a polaroid camera. I'd been so far gone, I hadn't cared a bit. In fact, I remember giving him a thumbs up for one picture, one cock in my mouth, another in my pussy, and another guy pouring beer all over my tits.