BUSINESS ASSISTANT
By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM
William Edward Graham strode into the lobby of the hotel like he always did, like he owned it and most of the rest of the known world. I walked behind him, carrying his briefcase and my own stuff in a duffel bag, partly because, as his assistant, I usually carried Mr. Graham's briefcase on these business trips, and partly to avoid having to tip a bellhop to carry it upstairs for me. You can pack a suit in a duffel bag...if it's rolled up and if it's made of wrinkle-resistant material. Behind us, a bellhop wielded a luggage trolley with suitcases on it...but those were Mr. Graham's. Not to mention the suit bags, because his suits were Italian silk and would wrinkle inside a duffel bag.
"Ah, Mr. Graham!" the manager recognized us; or should I say recognized Mr. Graham, but that wasn't surprising. We were here to consider investing in this hotel, it and the grounds around, which included a ski lift and sundry other attractions. A great place to spend a week or a year...provided you didn't want to leave the hotel and grounds; the place was isolated. They had been popular...in the forties and fifties, maybe. Now, people traveled further in order to get away from it all.
"Won't you come this way, sir?" the manager said. "My boys will set up your room for you while you meet with Mr. Fredericks."
"My meeting with Mr. Fredericks is for three p.m." Mr. Graham said. "It is now only one-thirty."
"Yes, sir, but...."
"I intend to check into my room, take a shower, and change." Mr. Graham said firmly. "Then my assistant and I intend to have a leisurely dinner. We will meet with Mr. Fredericks at three o'clock. Not before, if you please, it was a horribly long trip up here and we wish to relax."
"Yes, sir." the manager practically kow-towed to Mr. Graham, and we were taken to our rooms with no further static. A suite, two bedrooms, by vanishing into my room and using the bathroom when we arrived, I was able to avoid the bellhops.
Mind you, I'm no cheapskate, but I was living an active travel life on a limited salary, the expenses ate up my income as quick as it came in. A five-dollar-bill to a bellhop (anything less would have been gauche) was a drain I didn't need just then if I could avoid it, and I could.
Besides, Graham tipped them better than I could have, the three bellhops each got a twenty out of that little trek with the suitcases, and he turned to me with a smile. "Pretty ratty hotel, isn't it?" he said to me.
"It's seen better days." I agreed.
Mr. Graham laughed, his face--handsome enough in repose, it was handsome in a different way when he laughed, which was too seldom, the lines of his fiftyish face bit into his face, forming a frame to the smile--flushed almost red with his jollity, enhancing the white hair on either side of his head; the hair on top was still mostly brown. "Joseph, I must say that is the biggest understatement I've ever heard."
"If this place is so" I almost said "shitty" but that wouldn't do "dilapidated, then why are we even here?"
"Possibilities, my boy." Mr. Graham said. "If we can take a piece of this place, we get tax write-offs for the losses, and when the old guy who owns this place goes under, we take over the rest of it for a song. Then we unload it on some sucker who wants to open his own hotel and has the money. Not a lot of money to be made here, no, but it will pay out a couple of million dollars over the next five years."
"So we aren't going to try to save this place?" I asked. "I thought we were."
Again he laughed, now an indulgent chuckle at my naivete. "Old properties like this do have value. You just have to play the game so that the value is maximized, that's all."
"It seems a shame to be taking this place from the old guy." I said. "He's lived here most of his life."
"Having a heart can be a liability. But you're new at this. Look at it this way, then." he said. "We're bailing him out of his current problems, giving him enough money to try to save this place. He's getting his chance, it's not our fault if he blows it."
"Yeah, I guess so." I said.
He clapped a strong hand on my shoulder. "It's a rough game, kid." He said. "But if you keep your wits about you, you can make a living and even do some good sometimes."
"Just not here." I said.
"Unless you have some incredible idea for turning this place around." He said. "I certainly don't. Now, let's hit the shower and get some grub. I'm starving."
"Me, too." I said.
As I washed, I could just hear the shower from his own bathroom (the two shared a common wall). Pictured the wall tearing away like paper, him standing beside me. I guess plenty of young guys like me get the hots for their first boss, the one who teaches him the trade and gets him on the track. There's hero worship involved, some, and the camaraderie of a relationship that's partly like teacher and student, and partly like father and son. These were the days when I was breaking away from the many years of study, embarking on a career. I may learn to love it, I may learn to hate it...but every day was, in its own way, an adventure.
So I wanted Mr. Graham, even if he was old enough to be my father. Wanted him to be with me in that shower, take me in his arms, let me feel his body against mine, and his manhood press against my stomach, an iron rod as his lips met mine.
Shit, I was throwing a huge boner! I thought about stroking it, but I heard Mr. Graham's shower cut off and knew I needed to step lively. An assistant needs to be quicker than his boss, not slower. I rinsed off, showered, and changed into my clothes at a break-neck pace, managed to exit my room at nearly the same instant he did, he was just closing his door when I opened mine.
"Let's go see how well the cafeteria does for lunch." he said. "Order what you like, we're staying here courtesy of the hotel. No charge for anything."
I grinned at that and followed him down. The food was quite good, and the variety was as well, except they expected you to wait a half hour or more for anything, and it was already well after two o'clock. I ended up with a burger and fries, and Mr. Graham ate a chef's salad of some sort. I felt a little juvenile with my burger and said something to that effect, but he just laughed again. "Joseph, believe me, if I could eat what you do and stay in shape, I would."
"Maybe we can get in a game on the tennis court." I said. "Or the handball court."
"I doubt if Fredericks is going to leave us alone long enough for that." he said. "We're lucky that he hasn't shown up at our table already grinning like a Halloween mask ."
I saw an elderly man coming our way. "You mean like that man coming here now?"
Graham looked up. I think he said "shit" under his breath, but I couldn't be sure. He stood up and I did as well.
"Ah, William Graham." the man said.
"Harcourt Fredericks." Mr. Graham returned. "This is my assistant Joseph. Won't you sit down."
"I wouldn't mind a cup of coffee right now." the old man sat down and wiggled a finger. The coffee appeared without anything else. When Mr. Fredericks got it, he leaned forward in his seat, Mr. Graham shifted likewise. I knew then two things.
The real meeting had just begun.
And I was going to really regret ordering a burger and fries. Lesson for the day--never order something sloppy, greasy and messy to eat anytime a business meeting is even remotely possible. I had to pull out a notepad and pen and work taking notes and made pretty much a botch of it.
Mr. Fredericks went into loving detail about his hotel and the grounds surrounding it. There was a train that made a scenic trip around the side of the mountain, taking two hours from start to finish. There was a place at the end of the track that made a wonderful picnic spot. There was swimming, both at the hotel pool and at a pool underneath a small waterfall, while made by humans, the overall effect was of a natural spot of tranquility. I already mentioned the ski run, the tennis courts and handball courts already, but they also had a regulation baseball field perfect for playing friendly softball games. There was a large patio area where stage shows could be held, and also bingo games for prizes. Plenty for a person to do during their stay.
"You can see," Fredericks said after a time, "that this hotel is a wonderful place for young lovers to come for a quiet getaway."
"Jamaica is better." Graham said as he sipped at his glass of tea. "Let's face it, the hotel was built for another era. People don't think local when they want a romantic getaway."
"But families do." I said suddenly as it hit me.
"What do you mean?" Fredericks said to me.
"You're failing to attract sufficient business from your customary client base to run this hotel the way they did fifty years ago." I said. "So why not change your target audience? Sell this hotel as a spot for a family vacation."
"Families?"
"With small children." I agreed. "They want to have fun, but they can't abandon their children for a week, or they don't want to, Mom and Dad work all day and want to spend time with their children. So you set up a children's activity center and slant the rest of this place for the young couples. They get to spend that time with their children, but also have time to do things as a couple. Revitalize their marriage, that sort of stuff."
"You want to build a Disneyland in the middle of the Rockies?" Mr. Graham said to me.
"You don't have to go that far." I said. "Children under five really don't understand Disneyland anyway, they see Mickey Mouse and they scream in fear at the huge black creature coming at them. But they think it's fun to ride on a train."
"A children's activity center." Mr. Graham mused. "A daycare center."
"Only partly." I said after a pause as if I was considering it. "Sufficient personnel around to keep an eye on the kids when they get in the parent's hair, yes, but also things that parents and children can do together."
Fredericks was listening to me with increasing avidity. "Yes, yes!" he said. "We could pick a theme, say, the Swiss Alps. The hotel was built on the model of a lodge in Switzerland. A few simple rides, some crafts, a playground."
"All the comforts of home." I agreed. "Only when the kids get bratty, Mom and Dad can take off for an hour and soak in the sauna."
Mr. Graham leaned back. "Joseph, you've managed to surprise me." he said. "I figured you'd turn this investment into simple refurbishment. But if you're going to take on a whole new target customer, you'll need more than the simple ten percent I was going to buy from you."
"More like thirty percent." I agreed.
"I can't sell thirty percent of my hotel." Mr. Fredericks protested.
"But anything less wouldn't let you do a proper job." I said. "This place needs a complete face-lift, and you will have to advertise. Daytime television programming is cheaper than prime time, but it will hit your target audience just right, Mom just finished screaming at the kids and your commercial comes on. But even daytime isn't going to be cheap."
Mr. Graham pushed back his salad. "I think we're ready to take this into your office." he said.
It took the rest of that day and into the evening, but we ended up with roughly the proposal I had mentioned. Mr. Graham owned some television stations and part of the deal was free air time for the commercials rather than cash, but we ended up with Mr. Graham holding twenty-eight and a half percent of the hotel and grounds.
I felt exhausted and sweaty by the end of the day, but exuberant. This is why you get into business, if you're smart. Not to make money (though that's always nice), but the chance to change things for the better.
I was lounging on my bed, undressed except for my briefs, when Mr. Graham came in. Just walked in, didn't even knock like he usually did. But I didn't care, I was too happy and he had doffed his jacket and undone his tie. "Hello." I said.
"Quite a day, wasn't it?" Mr. Graham said.
"It sure was." I agreed. "I am exhausted."
"Me, too." Mr. Graham agreed. "I just came in to ask you something."
"What?" I said.
"Something occurred to me." he said. "You found us this investment opportunity."
"Yes, sir." I admitted.
"How did you hear about it?" he said.
"Uh...."
"How did a novice like you hear about a Rocky Mountain hotel in Manhattan?" He said. "Actually, my question is, how much did Fredericks pay you to bring me out here and pitch his hotel to me?"
"It wasn't like that at all!" I said.
"I'm listening." He perched on the bed beside me.
I gave a huge breath and gulped and started in. "Harcourt Fredericks is my mother's uncle." I said. "He knew I was working in investments and he contacted me to find out what he could do to save this hotel. It's been in his family since it was built near the turn of the century."
"And you thought of me."
"First I thought of the business plan." I said. "It really is my own idea, it just didn't pop into my head at the last moment. It will work, you won't lose any money, you'll make it, my grand-uncle saves his family business, everyone is happy." I said. Then, "Did I break a rule?"
"You certainly skimmed the edge of the cliff." he agreed. "Only why didn't you pitch it to me straight?"
"Because he needed the money." I said. "You might have said no to the business plan if that was the only way you saw it playing out. This way, even if you did say no, you'd still put up some of the money and the family could have gone looking for more investors for the business plan."
"So you planned to sell thirty percent all along."
"Forty-nine percent, actually." I said. "But with you on board, the rest of it ought to be easy enough to raise."
He looked at me and I figured then I was going to get fired. It's not a total blow to someone in my field, it can happen and you recover. I could work for my grand-uncle, finding the rest of his investors for him....
And Mr. Graham laughed. Really, all-out, belly-laughed. I gave some uncomfortable chuckles along with him, wondering what was going on.
"Now I know the reason I hired you." he said after a while. "My boy, you're going to be one hell of a business investment counselor one day. I haven't been played in business this well in a long time."
"I'm still learning." I said. "It'll be a long time before I'm as good as you." I now determined, if I could, to save my job. "I can keep working for you, can't I?"
"Keep working? Hell, yeah!" Mr. Graham said. "I want you on my side more than ever, now, turn your talent into making me money."
"I'd like that." I said to him, perhaps a little too earnestly. "I"d like that a lot."
His hand came up and landed on my thigh, a friendly sort of slap and clamp on. "You're a man after my own heart, Joseph." he said to me. And that smile lingered on his face.
I was so very conscious of his hand on my thigh. My eyes and his were locked together, but if those blue eyes of his had shifted even a little, they could have seen how my briefs were tenting up in mounting excitement.
I reached out and put my own hand over his. "I like working for you, sir." I said. "I like being with you."
Now his eyes did shift. "Well, now, Joseph." he said in a tone that didn't quite touch wonder. Wonder requires surprise, and he wasn't surprised. It was more like he was realizing something he'd already known and hadn't known that he'd known.
He looked over at my crotch, then up to my face, the smile grew slightly larger, and then back to my crotch. I felt rather than saw his hand slide up my thigh to touch my groin, and when it touched, it was electric, I gave a gasp, moan and my body rose up at my midsection, drawn toward that touch, desiring more of it.
"Well, now." he said again.
I wet my lips. "Please." I said to him. "Please, sir. If...if you want to."
His answer was to lean over and press his body to mine, his arms touching mine on the outside, his lips lowering toward mine, and our lips touched and melded to each other and my leg rose up and over his legs and my arms came up to curl and slide across his back and I wrapped myself around him. His hand came up and threaded itself into my hair and he stroked me the way a pet-owner strokes their cat, a slow, languorous, loving stroke. I felt loved the way a cat must feel, with its owner's fingers sliding through their hair, touching the skin beneath, felt my hair move as it caressed his fingers.
His lips moved over to kiss my cheek, reach up and place one circle of lips on my nose-tip, and it was like he was taking possession of me, he could touch me anywhere he liked and was exploring me now, finding out where he liked to touch me the most.
I shivered under every stroke of his hands, every touch of his lips to my skin. My hands slid over his shirt, wishing it were bare skin. Craving more, craving to touch more of him, as he worked his way onto my shoulder, I pivoted my lower body out from around him and began to kiss him back, more aggressively now. Not that I was in control, he was, still, but I had his permission to touch him, arouse him, and that was what I did, I kissed that strong jowl of his, feeling the ripe strength of him. The skin covering his face wasn't the tender, smooth skin of my prior lovers, mostly my own age or near, it had a quality of being lots of little pieces of skin fixed tightly together, but the give in it wasn't the uniform smoothness of younger skin, but a sort of rippling in segments. Somehow, on him, that felt just right, the age of him, double my own and a little more, demanded that he be different from me, and that didn't matter, that added to his attraction to me. I wasn't making love to an equal here, I was making love to my superior, to my boss, to my father-figure, to my hero. I looked up to him and admired him and that didn't change, he was honoring me with this indulgence, permitting me to make love to him, and it didn't detract from his power in the least, it added to it, that such a man would permit me to hold him in my arms!
I undid the buttons on his shirt and I kissed the flesh I exposed beneath. This skin was smoother and supple, and the gray hairs there, more plentiful than on his head, felt silken on my tongue as I tasted them.
"Uh, ah, Joseph!" He moaned as my hands finished with his shirt and touched the waistband of his pants. His own hand reached and found my crotch again, and I felt his palm palpate my manhood through the cloth. It was a kindness he was giving me, I didn't think in terms of him doing anything for me, that touch was enough. And he did, he touched me while I fought his pants open, found the briefs beneath a formidable foe, and sat up in bed, making him lie on his back and I got his shoes off, tossed them beside the bed, and then I got onto my knees and I pulled his pants and briefs down and off him in one motion. I should have finished the job, the socks, the shirt and tie still dangling there ineffectually, no longer protecting the line of his buttons, hiding the seams and the holes by its covering length, I had him exposed to me, I had his cock standing rigidly proud and arrogant there, a phallic statue to be worshiped and I leaned over to kiss it and when I did, the taste of that strength, that power, intoxicated me and I dove down onto him.
Mr. Graham sighed in his pleasure as I engulfed him, as I drove the entire length of it into my throat. "Ah, ahhhh!" He whispered. "Oh, Joseph!" his voice was a gentle caress. "Ah, Joseph, yes, ahhh!" As caressing as a breeze, soothing and soft.
His hand found its way through my waistband and my heat and my life were gripped in that hand, mastering me, and again that was sufficient, just the touch of his hand upon my cock, my actual flesh, that was enough for me and I asked no more.
I spent all my attention on sucking him, moving as he shifted to keep my strokes upon his prick smooth, wanting only to keep that entire length inside me, but knowing that it pleasured him more if I would pull upon it as I released it, letting it go briefly, to take it again into me and I could feel his delight as I wrung his prick, squeezing joy from it for him, feeling how it pulsed and throbbed under my ministrations, wanting this for him, I wanted to bring his body every pleasure and joy it could bear, I wanted to take it to the very height of erotic delight, I wanted him to thrash and writhe under me, wrung dry of every erg of his energy and emotion, I wanted him to experience all that, feeling it all due to him, not as a gift, but as something that I owed to him, owed to him completely, and everything I could do wouldn't be enough for him.
I knew somewhere in the unimportant part of my brain that my briefs were being pulled off of me by his hands, that he had shifted so that he was lying alongside me, that his head was at my groin, but I hadn't put any significance to this position, that he intended anything by it but his own comfort or perhaps for my own as it let us both lay at full length upon my bed. As for the briefs, they were an encumbrance, a sticky piece of cloth soaked by my own sweat of the day and of the new sweat wrought by this embrace, I was glad enough to be rid of them entirely, to lie naked and exposed to this man, for I was exposed to him in all other ways already, this exposure of the body was a mere nothing.
So despite all these indicators, which I had ignored, his taking of my cock into his mouth was a surprise, more than a surprise, it was a shock! A glorious, star-bursting, awe-inspiring, life-affirming surprise, to feel my insignificant, unimportant cock being taken into the mouth of this man, this more-than-man, my hero, my idol, he was taking my cock into his mouth and the delights of his lips pressing to my foreskin and pulling upon it were nothing to the deeper joy that came from knowing that it was him, it was this man, doing this for me. He had condescended to favor me with his attentions, he was looking at me, he was touching me, he was pleasuring me!
And the shock and the delight and the joy and the touching, it was so much, it was too much, my cock which had been ignored all that day and most of the prior day (I had last masturbated the morning of the day before), my cock was filled with juice and it was overwhelmed with sensations and it was shocked with this ultimate of delights, that my hero was taking me, that I couldn't endure it, I groaned in sudden passion, my ecstasy struck me with the rapidity of an assasin, and I could only groan in urgent warning, I was coming, I was coming!
He didn't pull away though my grunts were exceedingly explicit in their intent, he held on and I creamed, I shot my wad right into this worshiped mouth, pumping it into the mouth of my hero, of my god-on-earth, and I was in climactic delight and I was in abject shame at my lack of control, like a puppy that soils its master's carpet, not intending to trespass but not able to do anything else, knowing it was wrong, I lasted but a score of seconds as Mr. Graham sucked my cock and I creamed into his mouth and he held on and he let me shoot it into his mouth and down his throat and he continued to move his mouth upon my dong even as I shamed myself by unloading into him, sending a hundred milky jets of my jism into this, my lord, my master, my beloved hero.
Done with my shameful ejaculation, I could only pant ineffectually around his own dong still stridently erect and potent and I made feeble attempts to milk it more, and did a poor job of it and was unsurprised when he pulled away and I looked up as he got to his knees and wondered if I had angered him by my lack of control.
But the kindness of his smile was still there and I let him roll me onto my back and let him lift my legs up and hold them in both hands together as he wriggled up closer to me and I felt his cockhead touch my crevice and I sighed. No, he wasn't angry with me, he was willing to continue to bestow the gift of his body upon me, now in this way.
"Brace yourself, Joseph, here it comes." he said to me, but he needn't have bothered. My body craved this entrance, wanted it more than any breath of life could express, and when he touched his glans to my anus and pressed against it, my body opened up for him and welcomed him into me.
He slid it into me, all the way in, one long, gentle, smooth motion of his hips, and when he was done, when he was fully possessing me in this way, he looked at me and said, "Well, my boy, now I've taken you properly."
Taken me properly. Yes! Yes! I belonged to him now! My voice, which had been mostly silent until now, found words to give wing to my desires. "Yes, sir, fuck me now, please, sir, fuck me!"
His hips pulled back and then thrust back in and I shuddered, my body tensed up and I wondered at first if I would have another climax so soon! If I hadn't been so recently expended, I think I would have, that first strong pull and thrust into me would have done it. As it was, I only shuddered in my pleasure and I craved more and I groaned out, "Oh, yeah, yeah, fuck me, sir, fuck me, God, fuck me!"
"Yeah." He panted and with a few more thrusts, sent me writhing beneath him, wracked with the delights I had tried to visit upon him. He released my legs and caught them again with the crooks of his elbows when my legs fell on either side of him, and now our bodies were pressed tightest together where it mattered most, his cock and my ass married together by the weight of our bodies, his pulled down by gravity, mine pushing back by the weight of my legs desiring to fall back straight out again and prevented by his arms.
Now all he had to do was spend his energy in pulling us apart to withdraw his dong, and he did this with smooth, lithe, practiced motions, this was a man who had been making love for decades, not mere years as I had, he knew exactly how to move and how much to make his prick slide back to where just the head remained inside, and then the relaxation that drove it back into me again. And his body knew the angle that would provide pleasure for me as he did, for his cock brushed against my prostate gland with every stroke into me, every pull out of me, rubbing me and sending waves of that deeper, more satisfying pleasure, the pleasure of being fucked by a masterful man, of being fucked by my hero, surging through me, I was in the state that I had only dreamed of before, of being beneath this strong man and his prick dancing in and out of me, passages of joy and delight, thrusts of pleasure and passion, strokes of ecstasy and exultation. Now my dreams, they were real, they were real!
Mr. Graham was in control this time, my body was drained of the urgent needs of the body, now it waited upon him, rewarding me with that stronger, more complete delight that comes of serving your lover, the body knows and responds to that, it isn't forced or contrived, my body rejoiced in its portion, and my nerves tingled with the pulses of sexual joy pouring into me from this darting, thrusting, throbbing dong.
Mr. Graham was panting heavier now, I worried that he would need my aid to complete this and was ready to take over if he needed me to, as the obedient assistant does, and then he gasped out, "Oh, Joseph, I'm going to come! Can I come inside you, boy, can I shoot it inside you?"
He was asking my permission? He had it, all of it. "Please, sir, yes, shoot it in me, I want all of it, God, yes, shoot it in me, shoot it, sir, shoot it in me, yes, yes!"
"Ah, ah, gah, gah, ah!" he panted.
"Shoot it in me, sir, shoot it in me, cream in my ass, sir, cream in my ass!"
"Ah, AH, AH-GAH-AHHHHH!" He muffled his cries of joy, only letting this brief episode slip from his lips, then he damped it down into heavy panting, though it wracked his body and he thrashed atop me and I knew that in another place, more private, he would have roared out his delight to the world!
And as he did this, as he moved against my body, his weight upon me, lost in his rapture, I felt my own body surge up and I said, "Oh, God, I'm coming again! Uh, uh, guh-uh!" Like him, in imitation of him, I held back my noises, and because my climax was the second and diminished by that fact, I made sighing sounds as he fell against me, still shuddering with the aftershocks of his climax, his body spent, his sperm swimming inside of me, we were one, we were together, we had sealed our bond.
Panting together, we recovered together and he rose up onto his elbows and again he stroked my hair, his own hair soaked with sweat and disheveled, his face serene and relaxed, he was less the strident businessman now, and more the placated, ardent, powerful lover.
I smiled into that face, serenity matching serenity, and I said, "Oh, God, that was great!"
"You were pretty good, too, kid." He said to me. "Damn, but you're a hot little stud!"
"You make me so." I demurred. "I wanted you so much, it was easy."
"Repayment for the man who saved your family business?" he asked.
I was almost hurt by that. "No, sir!" I said. "Really, I barely know my grand-uncle, I've only met him a few times. I was just doing a favor for my family. And a favor for you, after all, it's a good deal."
"Yes it is. And that's the only reason I'm not going to fire you." he said. "Long as you keep my interests in mind, I can forgive having other reasons to promote a deal."
"Trust me." I said. "Your interests will always be first with me."
"I'd better get back to my own bed." he said.
"Can't you stay here?" I begged him. "I want to sleep with you."
He smiled, ran his fingers through my hair yet again. "Aren't you worried that the hotel help will catch us in here together? They'll tell your uncle and he'll tell your mother."
"I hope so." I said. "Sooner they find out, the better for me."
"All right." he said. "But let's get to sleep. We have a busy day tomorrow, and then we leave the day after for Los Angeles. Another hotel to look at there, this one smack in the middle of Skid Row. The hotel is classy, the neighborhood isn't."
"I see." I said. "I'd better get to work on a business plan for it."
"I'm counting on you, kid." he said as he turned out the light.
Counting on me. Isn't that just what a business assistant is for?
THE END
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