Preston knocked on the door and peaked his head in. Mr Cummings was standing at the window with a glass of whiskey.
"Took you long enough!" he yelled without turning around "Get in here and close the door behind you."
Preston stepped into the room and sat down on the chair opposite the large mahogany desk.
"All right Jackson. Given any other day security would be walking you out the door after your frequent fuck ups, but under the circumstances it looks like you'll be getting one last chance."
Preston's eye twitched as another cumshot squirted into his briefs. He let out a gasp that he tried to pass off as a cough. Mr Cummings turned at the interruption and narrowed his eyes with disdain. Luckily the desk was blocking the view to Preston's pants. Mr Cummings turned back to the window before continuing.
"We'll be having a lunch meeting with a big potential client from overseas today. Before they sign us on they want to make sure we're a quote unquote 'ethical company that treats our workers well' or some other hippie socialist crap. I'd show them the door if it weren't for the huge commission they're offering us."
Preston's hands gripped the arms of his chair as he suppressed a reaction from the wave of pleasure in his dicklet. His boss continued seemingly unaware.
"Believe me I would've picked the janitor over you if I had the choice but they compiled a list of employees in our LinktUp page, picked some schmuck at random to accompany us, and that schmuck is you."
Preston couldn't believe it. Of all the things to happen and all the days for this to happen. He could distinctly feel his groin was absolutely soaked again at this point.
"All you have to do is sit there, smile, talk about how great it is to work for Vorbiscum Industries and not act like a complete and utter buffoon. Can you manage to compose yourself in a dignified manner for once Jackson?
"Yy-eehhhhhs sir." his voice broke as his tiny cock sent another three pulses of slimy semen into his underwear.
"You had better or else I-" at this point Mr Cummings finally turned from the window and looked at Preston, "My god Jackson what the hell happened to your pants?!"
Preston looked down. White viscous fluid was clearly starting to show through the fabric.
"Uhh, I spilt some porridge on myself this morning?"
"Could you be any more fucking useless Jackson?! You're lucky I had my assistant pick up my suit from the dry cleaner this morning." He gestured towards a garment bag laying on a lounge chair. "You'll have to borrow my pants. They're custom tailored and VERY expensive so don't mess them up."
Preston's face went white. He was already on the verge of being fired. He couldn't fathom what Mr Cummings would do to him if he ejaculated in his pants.
"S-Sir. I couldn't possibly. Surely we can find another option..."
"Maybe if you weren't so late today we could've figured something out but now there's no more fucking time. Hurry up and get changed. They'll be here any minute. You can use my private bathroom. I don't want to risk them seeing you in this pathetic state."
Preston nodded dejectedly and took the neatly pressed trousers from the bag before heading to the adjoining bathroom.