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Alec took another sip of water beside me as we both watched Theo review the offer letter.
The day’s interviews had largely been a formality. Theo’s reputation proceeded him, of course. His algorithms had made his current employer a fortune. He had gotten a write-up in Forbes magazine, and all the hedge funds in town had been scrambling to replicate his methods.
None had come close.
Our tech team had been blown away by his coding. The efficiency, the ruthlessness, the AI-driven adaptability he baked in, tying his agents into social media feeds, news aggregators, market making software… all seemingly on the fly.
Our investment and finance teams salivated at his track record, his ideas, his potential.
Alec had me draw up the offer letter before Theo had even walked into the office, that morning. Before he’d even spoken to another soul besides him.
He wasn’t gonna let the 23-year-old whiz kid leave without one. Even if he blew the interviews. Even if he was a total jackass. The algorithms were just that valuable.
Theo and his algorithms were coming to Attica Partners, one way or another. Alec would make sure of it.
Looking at him, it was hard to believe I was looking at a crypto millionaire, a designer of algorithms so powerful and effective that he’d made hundreds of millions in profits for his old trading house, or that the offer letter we had just handed him promised to make him multiples of what he did before.
We’d offered him a $2.5 million signing bonus, $500,000 salary and a minimum annual bonus of 10% of the profits that his trading strategies made. That was a ton of money for a kid who should have only just graduated from college. Theo, of course, had dropped out of Stanford his freshman year to trade crypto full time.
The offer would have made him one of the highest paid employees at the firm, especially if his upside hit. If he could do with commodities what he had done with crypto.
Meanwhile, he could barely grow a beard, and it looked like he’d been trying. His curly black hair made his head and neck look like a spear of spoiled, white broccoli, and the thin gold chain that hung from his neck looked straight out of a Long Island shopping mall in the 90s. And I ought to know. I’d spent a lot of time at Roosevelt Field in the 90s, when I was younger than Theo was now.
I rapped my red-painted fingernails on the conference table, and Theo looked up at me. He’d looked at my chest enough times that afternoon to make me think I’d spilled something on my shirt, but every time I looked down, I only saw the clean, black silk of my blouse. It’s not like I was showing any cleavage, either. My C-cup tits were safely secure, out of sight of prying eyes. He just couldn’t help himself.
Boys, I thought.
“So what do you think?” Alec said, clearing his throat. “It’s a killer offer. With lots of upside, given the profit-sharing we’ve laid out.”
Theo looked up and down the conference table, reaching toward the far end for a pen. His black t-shirt rode up his body, revealing the baby fat that still circled his stomach, and a wispy trail of dark hair beneath his navel.
He had worn black sweatpants to the interviews, too.
The kid had confidence. I had to give him that.
The times were changing. I still thought of myself as a spring chicken, I guess, but when you saw the next generation coming in to replace you, with habits and manners totally alien from your own cohort’s, it had a way of disabusing your illusions. My generation would have worn a jacket and tie. He looked like he had just rolled out of bed.
We watched him scratch and scrawl something across the bottom of the offer letter. He smirked while he wrote, chuckling to himself. I wondered if he’d be laughing as much if he’d known how much more Alec was prepared to offer. The kid was probably low balling himself.
Theo slid the offer letter back to Alec, stealing another glance at my chest. I held my head up high and fixed my gaze on him through my thick-rimmed glasses. If he thought I’d be intimidated by some punk kid ogling my tits, he had another thing coming. You don’t make it as a woman in the hedge fund world for as long as I have without developing thick skin.
“Um, okay…” Alec said, scowling at the sheet. He tilted it away from me while I glanced over, and I shot him a look. Alec hesitated before handing me the letter, and I snatched it away from him.
Theo had written four bullet points in childish chicken scratch:
● $5 million signing bonus
● $1 million salary
● 25% of profits, $500 million minimum trading capital
● Personal cockwarmer in my office
The first two items were within Alec’s thinking, I knew. He had talked about offering even more than that, if it came down to it.
The third item was pushing it. Alec had talked about 15-20%, but I had a feeling he’d be open to negotiating.
And $500 million was no problem. If the algorithms were as good as Alec hoped, he’d give Theo the whole trading gorukle escort book.
I didn’t know what he was talking about with the fourth item. I had no idea what a “cockwarmer” was. I imagined it was something like a heated blanket for his dick, and shook my head at another example of the males of our species being a plague on society.
The times certainly were changing.
I turned to Alec. He looked sheepish, making the kind of face you made when you were embarrassed to understand a dirty joke. Theo snickered.
Feeling left out, I pulled my phone out and searched for “cockwarmer.” The first result was an unofficial dictionary definition:
Cockwarming (noun)(slang) The act of holding a partner’s penis in one’s mouth, anus or vagina, typically for a prolonged period of time, without moving, creating friction or provoking orgasm.
“Kelly and Mark had incorporated cockwarming into their lovemaking, holding long conversations while Mark’s erect penis sat lodged in Kelly’s vagina, or relaxing in bed with his penis in her mouth and a book in his hands.”
I put the sheet on the table and looked between Theo and Alec.
“Is this a joke?” I asked. Theo laughed again.
We had some Zoomers working for the firm already. I knew I didn’t always get their jokes, their references. A byproduct of them growing up on the internet meant their behavior wasn’t always workplace appropriate, their attire and styling less professional than the rest of us were used to.
But this took the cake.
It’s like the kid was raised by fucking 4chan.
Alec only stroked his face, his stupid fitness ring gliding back and forth over his chin.
“Five and one we can do,” Alec said, referring to the fixed dollar components of Theo’s counterproposal. “Will need to think about the other two.”
I knew better than to contradict Alec mid-negotiation, but inside, I was fuming. I was a Partner. I was the Head of Fundraising and Human Capital. I had written the goddamn Sexual Harassment policies myself, not that anyone gave a shit. Even just writing what he did should have disqualified Theo under the policies, but Alec could only see dollar signs.
“Maybe we could, I don’t know… get you an intern, or something…”
Alec refused to make eye contact with me when I leaned forward, my eyebrows pointed to the ceiling. It felt like I was taking crazy pills. He was taking the kid seriously.
I looked at Theo and felt the disgust welling up inside me. To think Alec was seriously considering his proposal, that he would pay some poor girl to come suck or sit on his cock while he traded for us… it made me sick.
But I tried to keep a straight face. I’d dealt with guys a lot more powerful than this little shit in my time, saying all kinds of disgusting shit to me, especially earlier in my career, when I was still fresh-faced and bright-eyed. I wasn’t going to let him come into my conference room and get the better of me.
Theo stretched his hands toward us and leaned over the table. He looked at my chest again and then faced Alec.
“If possible,” he said, his voice lethargic, “I’d like her to do it.”
He nodded at me and made eye contact, his jaw slack.
“I like the whole… Jewish mommy thing you’ve got goin’ on.”
The nerve. I could have slapped him. But years of putting up with comments like that had trained me to suck it up, hold it in, and plot my revenge. Success had been the best revenge, so far. I wouldn’t be run out of a lucrative job so easily.
And as a Partner, I’d be entitled to 10% of his profits, anyway.
So I smiled.
“Not a mommy, actually,” I said, playing it off like a joke.
I was a single, 42-year-old woman. I had straight, brown hair that I wore to my shoulders, parted on one side, medium-fair skin with cool undertones, and the aforementioned thick-rimmed glasses. I dressed conservatively, my slim body covered by a black, silk blouse, like I said, a knee-length houndstooth skirt, black tights and black heels. A string of pearls and a couple of gold bracelets tied it all together. I looked attractive, I thought. Professional, but attractive.
And not like anybody’s “cockwarmer.”
Certainly not for some 23-year-old who looked like he had barely finished puberty.
Whose cock had barely even been used by anyone but himself, I’d have been willing to bet.
It occurred to me that it might be a negotiating tactic. Throw in an unacceptable term, see how far we were willing to counter on the monetary items. Maybe he could get more money. No need to lowball when he didn’t know our limits.
“Like I said,” Alec droned, “we’ll need to discuss your counter. Can you give us a few hours?”
Theo shrugged and pushed his chair away from the table. He winked at me while Alec came around and shook his hand, walking him out of the conference room and toward the elevators. He shot me an angry look on the way out, and I flipped him the bird.
I looked out of the floor-to-ceiling bursa görükle escort windows spanning the conference room. The sky was clear. Stretches of Central Park were visible through the other buildings that covered Midtown. I had made it to the halls of power, and still I was reminded that, as a woman, I didn’t mean shit. Not to Theo. Not to Alec.
I guess that’s what the money was for.
But still.
I wondered if it was worth it.
I kept facing the street until I heard Alec return, awaiting his apology.
“Quite the specimen,” Alec said, chuckling. “What do you think, Shell?”
I’d had plenty of opportunities to practice my poker face in my career, but I’m sure Alec could have seen the rage flashing in my eyes.
“I think if you offer him 30%,” I said, “and you agree to hold his dick in your ass all day, he’ll sign.”
“Very funny,” Alec said, sitting down and taking another sip of his water bottle. “What do you really think?”
“About what?” I asked. “The kid is a clown. Just offer him some more money and be done with it.”
“He’s got other offers,” he said. “Renaissance offered him $10 million and 50% of his profits.”
“Well we can’t compete with that,” I said, waving my hands and gathering my documents.
“We can compete,” Alec said. “He told me by the elevator. The other places are too corporate. He wants free-wheeling. He wants–“
“We’re not free-wheeling,” I said. “We have tight controls. On trading. On cockwarming.”
“We can be,” he said. “We’re small. We’re employee-owned. We can be nimble.”
“Fine, we can nimbly offer him $10 million, 30% and unlimited energy drinks and vape juice or whatever the fuck.”
“That’s not what he wants,” Alec said. “He wants you. He wants you to, you know…”
“I don’t know, Alec,” I said, crossing my arms and legs. “He wants what?”
Alec spun the cap off his water bottle again.
“Christ, Shelly,” he said. “He wants you to give him a little attention, that’s all. Play with his junk a little bit, who gives a fuck?”
I scoffed.
“What’s the big fuckin’ deal?” Alec was getting animated, now. He could never keep a lid on it once he got agitated. “You’re not married. It’s not like you haven’t had enough cocks in your mouth over the years.”
“Fuck you.”
“Would you grow up?” Alec said. “Theo turned a hundred grand into a hundred million with his algos. You know the amount of money people are throwing at this kid? Renaissance isn’t even the highest. I’ve heard the Saudis offered him a hundred mil to trade for them. A hundred fuckin’ million and he’d rather just stuff his cock in your mouth. I’d be fuckin’ flattered. Think of how much money they’ll throw at us if he’s working here.”
I shook my head.
“Are you seriously asking me to do this?” I asked. “You seriously want me to warm that little fucking jerkoff’s dick?”
“Yes!” He said, nearly jumping. “Yes, I fuckin’ do! I just offered that little fuckin’ jerkoff millions of fuckin’ dollars. I’d ask you to ‘warm’ a million fuckin’ dicks if that’s what it took!”
He spiked his empty water bottle into the trash.
“You wanted to be a Partner. You wanted the big time. Well guess what, sweetheart. This is what it takes. You think I wouldn’t put somebody’s cock in my ass if it meant the difference between winning and losing?”
“You’re a pig,” I said.
“You don’t even need to suck it or make him nut or anything!” He looked exasperated, like he couldn’t understand why I was being so obstinate about not letting this kid stick his cock inside me. “You’ve just got to sit there and collect your share!”
I stood up.
“We’re done, here.”
“Shelly, be smart! Don’t be such a fuckin’ prude!” Alec called out, but I was already out the door and on my way to the ladies room.
I sat in one of the stalls, my head buried in my hands. I knew what my contracts said. I knew what the policies were. I knew what the laws were. I had enough to sue, if I wanted to blow it all up. New York State courts would be very generous.
But all the capital we’d raised wasn’t our own. Not really. We’d only been trading for a year, and the Partnership capital was, what, a few million dollars? What would a lawsuit get me? Five million? Ten? Then what?
First world problems, I know, but it was a humiliating position to be in. I had made some money, made it to the top, earned a Partnership in a new fund with a few billion dollars under management. If I blew it all up, I’d never work in this industry again. It wouldn’t matter that I’d had a good reason, I’d be blackballed. All that work down the drain, and just as I was supposed to start making “real money.”
And the “real money” is what I’d been working so hard for. What I’d been sacrificing for. I had always been focused on my career, foregoing relationships and romance, and now I had aged out of New York’s brutal dating machinery, only flings and cheaters and the like in my Tinder matches. What kind of man would I land if the tabloids smeared me as a sexual harassment lawsuit gold digger? And they would.
I searched for “cockwarming” again. Beyond the definitions, there were videos. Some just looked like cuddling. Others looked like sleeping women giving blowjobs. Who was into this shit? I returned to the search results and found some forums where people discussed this apparent “fetish.”
“I just love the feeling of closeness to my partner when I’m warming him,” one user wrote. “It feels more loving than even love-making does.”
“I agree,” another wrote. “He loves the attention. Makes him feel special and taken care of.”
They used smiley face emojis to underscore their points. The ones with the hands waving. It was all so corny and pathetic.
Probably written by men pretending to be women.
I flushed the toilet and washed my hands, dialing up my lawyer friend Noelle on the way to my office.
“Well, what’s the main objection?” Noelle asked after I explained what Alec wanted me to do, what “cockwarming” meant. “I’m asking as a lawyer and adviser, not, you know, as a friend and fellow woman.”
I threw up my hands.
“I don’t know, everything?” I said.
“Let’s break it down,” she said. “Consider your options. You could file a suit against Alec and the firm. Pretty good case, if you can get your hands on the counter offer, maybe get Alec on the record pressuring you to do this. Otherwise, it’s he said she said, and you’ll be forced to try to settle. It’s more challenging because you’re a partner, but he’s still technically your superior. So you can do that…”
I waited. It sounded like she didn’t like that option.
“…Or?”
“Or… you could negotiate,” she said. “How can you get what you want, here?”
“I’m not going to negotiate!” I said. “I’m not going to prostitute myself for this little shit.”
“Well let’s think. Obviously, it’s not legal for sexual favors to be exchanged for money, and as your attorney I would advise you against doing that. But in theory, is there some amount of consideration that might make you open-minded towards independently providing this unrelated service? In theory.”
I thought about Theo. His smug face. His wispy facial hair. His chubby stomach and pathetic treasure trail and stupid hair and tawdry gold chain.
“In theory, sure,” I said, looking through the glass walls of my office out onto the trading floor. “Give me a billion dollars and I’d suck his dick.”
“Okay, so is the main objection then money? Is it him? Is it…”
“It’s everything!” I shouted. “It’s absurd of him to ask, ridiculous for Alec to suggest he even has a role in considering it. It’s offensive! Not just as a woman. I feel like if I was a man, and some little shitstain came into my office and made a proposal like that, I’d kick him to the curb.”
“Is it that you’re worried people will think less of you?” Noelle asked.
I was getting annoyed at her approach. Sure, I paid her to think logically and clinically about all sorts of things, but it’s like I was talking to a brick wall. How was she not getting how unacceptable this was?
“Because you could maybe solve that with some kind of an NDA. You could have Alec and the candidate sign it. If either breaches, there could be some catastrophic consequence. You get the firm. Or you get rights to the algorithms.”
“Noelle,” I said. “I don’t want this kid’s dick in my mouth.”
“Of course not,” she said. “But that’s why they’re going to make it worth your while. You could ask for more points in the fund, cash up front, catastrophic consequences for breaking the NDA. You could limit what you’re willing to do. Say… oral only, one hour a week, or something.”
As I listened to her spell it all out, I remembered why I had given her so much of my business over the years. She was good. She was focused on the essentials. She had a way of breaking things down and focusing on what mattered.
And she was right.
Alec wanted Theo. He wanted him bad.
He had been willing to offer more than Theo was asking.
Was I going to let my pride get in the way of capitalizing on Alec’s weakness? Why? For what?
It’s just a dick.
I’d already make a boatload of money if Theo’s algos were as good as the experts said they were. I could get even more because Theo had all but made me a condition to accepting our offer.
Me.
Alec could have hired the hottest models in this town to do it, but that’s not what this little pervert wanted, was it?
No. He wanted me.
And he didn’t even want to fuck like a normal person. At least that I could understand. I’d have said no, of course. But I’d have understood.
But that’s not what he wanted. He wanted to just, what – use me? To stick his cock somewhere and have me sit there, captured, helpless while he did whatever it was he did while trading. Like a sleeve.
A cockwarmer.
I tried to picture what the little twerp’s dick would look like. A mess of curly, black hair surrounding it, probably rubbed raw from all the jerking off he must have done. I thought about his hands, his belly fat. It wouldn’t be a nice dick. I was pretty confident about that. Guys with nice dicks didn’t make proposals like that.