0 comments/ 17603 views/ 4 favorites Architect By: SharpieInk I hate blind dates. After a rather terrible experience with a guy who spent four straight hours talking about nothing but his pet ferret Daisy, I decided to swear off them forever. I've also sworn never to get a tattoo, but I'm the proud bearer of a small set of blue wings between my breasts...you see where this leads me. My best friend Lex (short for Alexandria) called me at work last Wednesday. "Jen," she bubbled. "I found him. Jackson Brutt. The perfect guy for you!" After breaking up with my last long-term boyfriend over a year ago, I've tried all types, without much success. I tried to convince Lex that I wasn't really in the mood for a date, but she insisted that I at least meet the guy for drinks. She told me he was expecting me Friday evening at Hewlett's, an upscale but not overly ritzy place close to my office (the nerve of that girl, I swear....). Since the date had already been set up, I figured I'd spend an hour or so with the poor guy (with a name like "Jackson Brutt," I assumed he'd be somewhat of a loser), be charming and cute, and leave before dinner. That Friday I dressed up more than usual for work. I wasn't trying to impress the guy too much, but I figured I'd give him a little thrill for his money. A peek of cleavage, a bit of leg, that sort of thing. I chose an above-the-knee suede skirt in khaki with a slit up my thigh to five or six inches below my waist. I also wore a tight-fitting deep red button-up blouse with a Mandarin collar - my favorite top because it matches these sexy red leather pumps I found on a business-slash-shopping trip to New York. I decided on a basic black silk demi-bra and V-string to complement my outfit...not that he'd ever see them; I just like the feel of silk against my skin. I showed up at Hewlett's at 5:30, the time Lex had set with Jackson. Lex had planned so well that she'd even reserved a table for us so we'd find each other immediately. I dug through my purse for the scrap of paper I'd written it on...the circle booth in the back left corner. I looked up. It was empty. Good. Time to get settled in before Jackson arrived. I told the host I had a table under the name Brutt and he led me straight to the corner. I sat down and ordered a cosmopolitan. I sipped it as I gazed around the restaurant. Suddenly, I felt a hand at my elbow. I whirled around. A man was standing beside me. "Miss Packard?" I gave him a once-over. He was tall, maybe 6'2", with dark brown hair and blue eyes. His face was angular, but not pointy. My first impression: striking, and very sexy. Was this him? Lex hadn't told me he was so...attractive. "Jackson?" I asked. "Yes, but you can call me Jack. Nice to meet you," he said, releasing my elbow and holding out his hand. I took it and gave it the requisite shake, still incredulous that he was so stunning. "Do you mind if I sit down?" he asked. I shook my head. "No, no, not at all." He slid into the booth at the other end. Struggling to regain my composure (wow, Lex...he's gorgeous!), I attempted small talk. "I took the liberty of ordering a drink. I hope you don't mind." He smiled. "Feel free to order anything you like." He signaled to a passing waiter and ordered a Scotch. "So, Alexandria told me you work for an architectural firm. Are you an architect?" I nodded. "Yep." I launched into a monologue on how I became what I am, my major projects and my firm. Jack paid polite attention, smiling and nodding appropriately. "So, Jack, what do you do?" He took a drink of his Scotch. "I'm in the restaurant business." "Oh, really? Which restaurant do you work for?" He looked down almost shyly. "I own a few. You probably haven't heard of most of them - they're located in Seattle and L.A., where most of my family lives. The one I spend the most time in, however, is in Boston. It's called...Hewlett's." This took a moment to sink in. "Hewlett's? As in...here?" He laughed. "Yeah, here." "You own it?" Jack was not at all what I expected. I was prepared for a bespectacled, pale and pudgy web-designer/computer nerd coworker of Lex's. Instead, I got the suave, extremely wealthy owner of one of the best restaurants in Boston. "Mmm-hmm. It's the only restaurant that I take a personal interest in. The rest I inherited from my father, but Hewlett's is all mine." Jack and I continued to talk over two more rounds of drinks, dinner (absolutely fantastic pepper-lime chicken and grilled vegetables) and chocolate martinis. The more I learned, the more I was intrigued. Jack spent most of his time in Boston, though he did travel to the west coast once or twice every quarter. He lived in a flat in the city, but also had a house in North Bend, a little town close to Seattle. He met Lex when he had her design the web site for one of his L.A. restaurants - a little Thai place visited regularly by the stars of Hollywood. What amazed me the most about Jack was that even though he was incredibly rich, he never once seemed to be bragging. This was definitely a man I could enjoy.... As our martinis slowly disappeared, our conversation grew more personal. I told Jack about my ex-boyfriend and my disappointing string of one-night stands. He revealed that he had recently left his girlfriend of two years, one of Seattle's finest, because she demanded that he propose, complete with a 1.2 million dollar engagement ring from Tiffany's. As I took the last sip of my drink, Jack leaned over to me. "Jen, I don't want to seem too bold, but...well, would you like to come to my place for some coffee or something?" I silently thanked Lex for her excellent matchmaking abilities. "I'd love to." We left without paying the bill (it was, of course, on the house) and Jack hailed a cab. He gave the driver directions to his flat and we relaxed into the leather seat. During the bumpy ride, Jack's fingers brushed mine several times, but I couldn't tell if it was truly from the turbulence or just extremely well-timed. We pulled up to a 1930's factory building with "Ziegler's Tires" painted in white on the side. Jack saw my quick look of confusion and leaned over. "Don't worry, the inside's a lot better than the outside. The creaky old elevator carried us up to his flat. It was very open, decorated in dark wood, rich leather and airy fabrics...very classy, even for a rich guy. Jack headed straight to the kitchen. "How do you take your coffee?" he asked. "Black," I replied, taking a seat on the enormous leather couch. Jack returned in a few moments with a pot of coffee and two mugs on a wooden tray. "Do you like jazz?" he inquired, before turning towards his high-end stereo. "Love it," I replied, tasting my coffee. It was just strong enough to be worth it, but not bitter. He put in a CD of something I couldn't quite identify. We relaxed on the couch and talked more about our past loves. Suddenly, Jack leapt to his feet. "Let's dance," he proposed, holding out his hand. I stood, and he pulled me to him, locking his arm around my waist and taking my hand in his. We swayed back and forth to the music, not keeping a strict beat but letting the notes flow over us. As the song stretched on, our bodies pushed closer and closer together, until my head was on his chest and both of his arms were wrapped around me. When the music ended, I looked up at Jack. Without breaking our eye contact, he bent his head, and our lips met. His mouth was warm and soft, the flavor of coffee still on his tongue. We kissed again, this time with more passion, tongues entwining, seeking, finding pleasures both of us had been missing. As the kiss grew longer, it became more insistent, until we were grinding our lips against each other's, forcing our tongues into each other's mouths. Jack broke the kiss and stepped back slightly. "Jen," he said hesitantly. "It's been a while...if we keep going, it's going to have to be fast." I could barely stop myself from jumping on him. I needed him, needed his hands on my skin, needed him inside of me. I didn't care how. "Fast is good," I replied, and he pulled me hard against him. Jack picked me up off the floor, pulling my skirt up enough that I could wrap my legs around him. He carried me to the couch and stretched me out on the leather, lying on top of me, hands still wrapped around me. I reached up and ran my fingers through his hair, pulling his head towards mine for an even deeper kiss, if possible. As we made out, I could feel him growing harder against my stomach. I pointed my toes against the arm of the couch and slid up so that his stiffening cock was nestled between my legs. As I squeezed my thighs together, he moaned. "Yeah, Jen...god, yeah." His hands moved to the front of my blouse and began to unfasten it, one agonizing button at a time. I arched my back so he could reach the last few buttons. As soon as he finished, he threw it open and dove into my breasts, kissing and sucking on the exposed flesh, lapping at my tattoo (never say never). His hands snaked back to the clasp of my bra and deftly unsnapped it, freeing even more skin for his attentions. When he took one nipple into his mouth, I couldn't help myself. "Mmmm, yeah Jack...just like that...suck my nipple, it feels so good!" He responded by moving to my other breast, his hand covering the one he had just been sucking. His tongue was so hot. I felt like my nipples were on fire...god, it felt so good. His teeth scraped against my skin, biting while he sucked at my breasts, hard. By now, we were frantically grinding against each other, both craving release. He sat and pulled me up with him. I immediately leaned forward to untuck his shirt and unbutton his pants. I almost pushed him off the couch in an effort to get him to stand so I could yank his khakis down, freeing what I was sure would be a beautiful cock. He kicked off his shoes and I pulled down his pants and his boxers, finally revealing what I had been missing. His cock was a little over six inches long, and thick enough that I couldn't encircle it with my finger and thumb. Without hesitation I took it into my mouth until the head hit the back of my throat. I could hear him mumbling something, but all I cared about was sucking him. I bobbed up and down on his cock, kneeling on the couch to get the best angle, kneading his balls with one hand and steadying myself against his hip with the other. He was smooth, sweet, salty...so many sensations wrapped up in this most primal of actions: mouth on cock. I licked and sucked on his balls as I stroked his shaft, then returned to teasing the head of his cock with my throat as I took him all into my mouth. I felt him tug gently at my hair. "Jen," he moaned. "Jen, you better stop if you want me to fuck you." At those words, I stood up and pulled off my skirt and thong. I was dripping wet, and the lips of my pussy were bright pink and slightly swollen. "Lay back on the couch," he directed. I did, spreading my legs. He sat between them, slowly sliding a finger into my pussy. His touch was exquisite, but I craved something biger. "More," I whispered. He quickly complied, adding his index finger to his middle digit and gliding them in and out of my wet pussy. I pushed my hips toward him. "Now," I gasped. "Please, Jack, now!" Before I finished my sentence, he withdrew his fingers and plunged into me, filling me completely with his rigid cock. "Fuck yeah," I moaned. Jack fucked me hard and fast, my back sliding against the leather as I clutched at him, my fingernails leaving raised, red trails on his skin. I could tell that gliding in and out of my tight little pussy was getting him close, and I pulled my legs up to my shoulders to let him go even deeper. The new position provided delicious friction against my G-spot. "Mmm...fuck, Jack. God, fuck me hard! God, your cock feels so good!" I'm not a slut, I promise, but I do like to talk dirty...I can't help it. The words just come out on their own. Jack licked his fingers and reached down to rub my clit. This sent me over the edge, and we finished together, his cum spilling into me as my pussy clenched rhythmically around his cock. He collapsed on me, exhausted, and began sucking my earlobe. "God," he whispered. "That was amazing." "Hell yeah," I replied. We lay there for a few moments, basking in the afterglow of a really good fuck. Suddenly, Jack smiled devilishly. I realized we were both still semi-clothed - me in heels, he in his shirt - and wondered if he was laughing at our state of disarray. "What?" I asked. "Nothing," he replied innocently. "Just wondering if you were ready for round two...." Architect of Desire I am leaving work about fifteen minutes behind everyone else. I got stuck on the phone and missed the mass exodus to the parking garage. I hate walking though the structure in the dark by myself. Even though nothing has ever happened here, I still don't feel safe. The dim lighting and confusing echoes make me nervous. I walk quickly with my head up, clutching my keys tightly in my hand. I am within touching distance of my car when he strikes. He grabs me from behind and pulls me off my feet. I drop my purse and keys while I struggle. His hand is hard across my mouth, preventing my cry for help. His arm crosses my torso and pins my arms to my side. His strength is enormous. I can only get trickles of oxygen. I kick backward trying to rake his shins with my shoes. He is moving so quickly that I miss more than I hit. When I do manage to connect it makes no discernable difference. He easily overpowers my small frame and carries me swiftly to a dark colored car with the trunk open. He bends me over the lip of the trunk so that my head is in the car and my feet trail out. He lets go of me for a moment and uses his body to hold me in place. I gasp for air and try to get my nails into anything I can reach. He wrenches my arms behind my back and I can feel cool metal tighten around my wrists. I open my mouth to scream but he slams his body against mine so that all the air is forced from my lungs. He pulls a fabric bag over my head and tightens a drawstring around my neck. He picks up my feet and shoves them in and slams the trunk. I can feel the adrenaline flooding my body. I pant for breath. My heart is pounding so hard it feels like it will break out of my body. I can't think-- all I can do is panic. I jerk my wrists repeatedly against the handcuffs. I thrash my head around, rubbing it on the floor of the trunk, trying to get the hood off. I hear a door slam. It startles me and I jump and hit my head. The pain helps center me. The car starts and begins moving. I take a deep breath and hold it. I need to calm my breathing and heart rate so that I can reason and not just react. I lick my bruised lips and taste blood. I know I asked Daniel for this, but I didn't expect it to be so rough. My body doesn't care that I am scared. The physical sensations of fright feel identical to arousal; I was born with those wires crossed. My nipples are beaded and my sex is starting to moisten. The drive isn't a long one and I spend the time reminding myself over and over that I want this. There isn't any time to prepare when the engine stops. The trunk opens suddenly and my captor reaches in and circles my upper arm with a gloved hand. I am pulled up and out by the grip on my arm. He doesn't stop to let me catch my balance; he just pulls me along behind him. When I stumble over the threshold I hear his voice for the first time. "Hurry up bitch. If you don't walk, I'll drag you." His bass voice is raspy and contemptuous. I whimper inside my hood. I get my feet under me as quickly as possible. After walking a few more yards he pushes my arm so that I fall at his feet. I land partially on my side on a cement floor. I can smell drywall dust and raw wood. "Nobody's gonna hear you when you scream." He rolls me onto my back with a booted foot. My hands hurt from my weight pressing them against the unyielding surface. He kneels next to me and pulls my blouse away from my neck. I feel the cold blade of a knife slide between my skin and the material. He cuts my shirt open from neck to hem in one sudden movement. He pulls my skirt down my legs and off. I shiver with cold and arousal. He pulls so hard on the front of my bra that my torso comes up off the ground. The plastic closure in front can't hold up to that kind of treatment and breaks with a snap. I fall back on my bound hands with a cry of pain. He grabs my exposed breast, palming as much as he can fit in his large hand. He digs his fingers in until I cry out. I can hear him hiss. He puts the flat of the knife against my nipples. He laughs when they contract. I try to shrink away from the blade. "Don't move or I'll cut them off." He says as he circles the point of the knife around my breast idly tracing patterns. I hold as still as possible not even daring to breathe. Finally the knife leaves my breasts. I suck in air, my chest heaving. He pinches my nipples cruelly with his leather covered fingers and I can feel tears come to my eyes. My hips jerk and I feel a rush of shame that I react to his touch. "You sluts all like that." He laughs. He pinches and twists until I am sure that my nipples are swollen and red. If I couldn't hear my little mewling cries with my own ears I wouldn't believe it. Abruptly he stops and I don't know whether to sigh with relief or regret. At least I have stopped making those noises. I hope he didn't hear them. He pulls me to my feet and pushes me forward until I hit a waist high barrier. He pushes on my shoulder until I am belly down over what feels like a metal barrel. It is cold against my aching nipples. He unlocks the cuffs and pulls my wrists over my head. He locks them to a wooden frame under the barrel. I am up on tiptoe now, my body stretching to reach the ground. He ties each ankle to the wooden frame holding my legs spread wide. He steps behind me. I flinch and try to press my thighs together. He doesn't react to my self protective movement. He grabs hold of my panties and rips them off me. The material abrades my thighs and roughly brushes my clit. The movement makes what is left of my bra and shirt flutter around the sides of my chest. His gloved fingers probe and prod. He withdraws his finger from my sex and slides it along my crack until he reaches my puckered hole. I can feel the trail of wetness from my own arousal. I can hear the sneer in his voice. "You really are a slut aren't you?" I feel like I will die of mortification. I can feel him pushing his finger into my ass. I can't even rock my hips to get away. I can't hold back the tears anymore. He pushes another finger in and scissors them open. When he finally pulls them out, I whimper knowing what is coming. He pulls off his gloves and lays them on my back. I can feel their slight weight on my lower back. "I am gonna fuck every hole in your body, slut." He pulls away and I can hear his zipper come down. I hear him spit and imagine him rubbing it onto his cock. I cry even harder. He shoves the broad head of his cock into my ass past the tight ring of muscle. In two strokes he is hilted. I scream and sob but he doesn't stop. He grunts obscenely when he comes. He pulls out and I can feel him wipe himself on the shreds of my shirt. My cries are quieter now. I can hear him zip up as he steps away from my spread legs. I can feel him retrieve something from inside the barrel. I feel him push a large rubbery cock into my wet sex. He buckles it into place with straps that circle my thighs and waist. I tighten my inner muscles but the dildo isn't so easily expelled. "Get your cunt ready." He says as he turns the base of it and it begins to vibrate. He picks up his gloves and I can hear his footsteps moving away. I sniffle and my tears slow. I can feel a trickle of his come escaping my tender back hole. I am unable to close my legs and the monstrous cock stuffs me obscenely full. My mound is pressed against the barrel and I can faintly feel the vibrations reverberate through the metal against my clit. I want to push the horrid thing out but the straps hold it firmly in place. The buzz begins to grate on me. I begin to calm down now that my captor is gone. I am shocked at my position. I am humiliated that I reacted with arousal to such horrible treatment. My mind is a static buzz that echoes the vibrator. Still, my body didn't care what my mind was going through. It feels good. I can hardly admit to myself but the best part is I can cry, scream, shout and beg like I have always wanted to and I know he won't stop. The sound of the vibrator begins to pick up a telltale squish of wetness. I try rocking my clit harder against the barrel to intensify the vibration. I held my hips at the down stroke for as long as I could. Then I try rocking the tiny bit I can move, faster and faster. I didn't hear him return. I jump in fright when I hear his voice coming from close by. "That cunt nice and wet? You been a nasty slut, humping that fake dick?" I feel disgrace at being caught; I quiver and feel another gush of fluid from my sex. He unbuckles the straps and pulls the thing from me with a chuckle. I bite my lip in order to stifle my moan. I squelch a desire to have him shove it back in again. "Oh yeah, I watched you trying to get off. You need a real cock in your hole don't you?" He thrust into me so hard that the entire apparatus scoots a couple of inches across the floor. He withdraws and does it again. Then he pounds into me as fast and hard as he can. My clit rubs the barrel with every thrust. I can feel the tension growing at the base of my spine. "No," I cry humiliated at my body's betrayal. "Please, no." His strokes don't falter and I can feel my inner muscles tighten around him. Worse yet so can he. He holds himself deep inside me. My orgasm pulses around his cock. "Looks like I got myself a gen-u-ine come slut. You want to please me whore?" When I don't answer he pulls out and pounds in again. "Huh?" I moan around the resulting aftershock. I can't stop my body from preparing to come again. When I feel his orgasm it sends me sliding over the edge again. I feel him fumbling with the bag over my head. He pulls it off and drops it on the ground. I can see the unfinished cement floor and the wood of the sawhorse that my wrists are attached to. He pulls out of my pussy with a wet smacking sound, I shudder. He walks around to my head. He grabs a handful of hair and lifts my head until it is elevated to the level of his cock. I stare at the softening head. It is sticky with my own copious fluid. "Clean it off." He demands. "Suck it till I'm hard again." I open my mouth. His semi-erect member pushes in past my lips. I lick his cock clean of our combined come. With each lick his cock hardens more and I am not able to control how far into my mouth he is. He rams his cock in, forcing my mouth wider. I gag when he hits the back of my throat. "Take it all." He commands. I roll up my eyes attempting to see his face but his head falls back. He thrusts again bruising my lips against my teeth. I try to breathe through my nose so I won't gag anymore. I relax my throat. It helps the first time but with each successive thrust he just keeps going deeper. Every time he pushes in, I gag and can't breathe. My eyes are tearing and I can feel myself drooling from all the spit. I try to time my breathing so I can get oxygen while he is pulling out. "The come is boiling in my balls." He speaks through gritted teeth. "You're going to swallow it all." He shoots jets of come into my mouth. It overflows my lips and dribbles on the floor. "Look at you, come dripping out of every hole." My head is heavy and I let it hang to rest my neck. He walks a slow circle around me. I follow his work boots and jean clad legs with my eyes. "I am going to leave you just like this. Spread out and waiting for anyone who walks by." He turns to walk away. "The guys who work here are going to love getting to work and finding your cunt open and ready for them." He is almost to the door. "Who knows how many times you'll get fucked before they'll let you go?" He walks through the door and out of sight. I hang there immobile in my shock. He couldn't mean it. I go a little crazy then. I jerk my arms against the cuffs. I pull my legs and buck my body until every last muscle is involved in the struggle. I growl and pant, pre-verbal in my fear and rage. It makes my raw throat ache even more. I struggle against my bonds until I am sweating and weak. I collapse in despair. As if he had been waiting for that moment, Daniel strolls back in again. "I changed my mind." He tells me as he unfastens the straps holding my ankles to the barrel. "I am gonna keep you as a pet." I see him unlock the cuffs. I stay limp across the barrel. He picks me up and slings me over his shoulder. "You are gonna be my fuck dolly forever." I sigh with delight. "Thank you Daniel." He pats my bare ass. "You're welcome Grace." He whispers. Architects of Passion The day started like so many others for Joe Stevens, a thirty year old architect in central Florida. A couple of hours at the office to browse through the previous day's mail, return a few calls to prospective client's, then off to the job site to monitor the progress of his latest creation, which was scheduled to be completed in twelve weeks. Joe ambled to his car in his usual fast gait, aided by long, powerful legs that supported his six foot-two inch frame. His current project was the result of two year's of tedious planning. Shireport Lakes was planned as a sprawling office complex located in an upscale suburb on the west side of town. Joe and his partner, Enzo Corelli, had passed over some short term projects that would have netted some much needed cash flow, to create what they hoped would propel their firm into the top five in the Southeastern United States. He sped west on Interstate 10 with the top down on his black Mercedes convertible, his hair whipping in the wind, while the sun shone on his already bronze face. His blue eyes were hidden by a pair of designer sunglasses. On the beach, the athletic build, slightly long blond hair, and toothy smile would easily portray him as a surfer, but in his light blue shirt and expensive silk tie, Joe looked like the consumate successful architect. He tuned the radio to his favorite jazz station and forgot about construction delays, material cost, and next week's payroll to enjoy a beautiful, cool April day in Florida. As he whipped his Benz into the job site, Enzo was waiting for him and motioned him to stay in the car, then jumped in the passenger seat. He told Joe that they had a lunch meeting with a prospective client from North Carolina in fifteen minutes. After trying to lay a guilt trip on Joe for forgetting the appointment, Enzo finally admitted that he had forgotten to mention the meeting that had been scheduled two weeks previously. While Joe and Enzo were close friends and business partners, their appearance was a study in contrasts. Enzo had wavy black hair, and deep sparkling brown eyes. His face was baby smooth and his dark skin left no doubt of his Italian heritage. While only five foot-ten inches tall, Enzo had a thick chest and strong, defined arms as a result of regular work at the gym. On the ride to the restaurant, Enzo explained that they were meeting, Leslie Hasen, Chief Operating Officer of a large multi-state pharmaceutical firm to discuss plans to consolidate offices in North Carolina. The plan was for lunch at Anthony's located on the 54th floor of the Sherman Building, then a tour of the Shireport Lakes construction site. Ten minutes late for lunch, the maitre'd showed them to the table where Leslie Hasen was already enjoying a glass of white wine. She remained seated as Joe and Enzo introduced themselves. Joe was surprised by Leslie's age, mid to late thirties, young for a chief operating officer of a half billion dollar company. Her short brown hair provided the perfect frame for her pixie face, pale smooth skin and large blue eyes. Leslie's sultry southern speech was often interupted by flashes of a brilliant smile. After a lunch that included three bottles of wine, Joe paid the bill and they started for the large outdoor elevator that would bring them from the 54th floor to the underground parking garage. As they stood in the elevator, Joe's eyes moved from Leslie's face and realized that she was an incredibly attractive woman. She was only slightly taller than five foot, but had incredibly firm and shapely legs accentuated by three inch spike heels. She wore a peach color suit with a white silk shell, and even though dressed conservatively, Joe could tell that her waist was tiny and her breasts were huge. As they reached the garage, Joe realized that his car would only seat two passengers. Leslie told them that she had a rental car and could follow behind to the job site. Enzo quickly agreed to ride with Leslie so that she would not get lost. The morning sun had been replaced by heavy afternoon clouds, so Joe decided to put the top up on the Mercedes and then began the 30 minute drive to Shireport. When they arrived at the site at 3:00, most of the workers had left for the day. To beat the imminent rain, Joe and Enzo quickly took Leslie on a tour of the site. She was impressed with the layout of the property and the planning of an efficient work environment, while maintaining an impressive visual creation. As they headed back to the car, the skies opened up and rain poured on the trio. They began to run for the car, but realizing they were still 200 yards away, Joe directed the group to the construction trailer. The door was locked, but he quickly found the key and the group hustled into the trailer and closed the door. Leslie's hair and jacket were soaked. Enzo found a roll of paper towels and showed her to the bathroom to dry off. Joe searched the desk and found a bottle of brandy, then poured the amber liquid into three paper cups. When Leslie returned, Enzo was seated at the desk and Joe in one of two chairs in front of the desk. As she approached the empty chair, Joe quickly realized that Leslie had removed her wet jacket revealing her ample breasts and protruding nipples through the wet silk shell. They began to look at some of the architectural drawings on the desk, when Leslie stood so that she could get a better view. Joe stood behind Leslie and maintaining his professionalism, began to point out some of the features of the project on the drawings before them. Periodically, Joe could feel Leslie's round ass rub against his crotch. Each time he would back away slightly, but after several brushes with her soft back side, he began to feel a warmth and tingling in his crotch. Leslie was apparently aware of the effect she was having and began to grind her bottom more deliberately into Joe's expanding member. While Enzo was unaware of what was happening "behind the scenes", he was certainly enjoying the view of Leslie's 38 DD breasts pressed against her sheer bra and wet silk top. Aware of Enzo's interest, she leaned further over the desk to give him a view down her top at the deep, bare cleavage. By now, both Joe and Enzo had lost concentration on the discussion of the project, as the blood flowed from the brain to the growth in their pants created by the beautiful vixen before them. The wetness in her pussy signalled Leslie that it was time to move from teasing to pleasure. She reached behind her and began to massage Joe's cock through his pants while leaning across to plant a deep kiss on Enzo's lips. Joe reached his hand up Leslie's skirt and pressed his middle finger at the wet spot in her thong panties. Enzo began to massage her massive breasts while their tongues were entwined in a long passionate kiss. When the kiss broke, Joe turned Leslie toward him and sat her on the edge of the desk. Kissing her deeply, he took a turn at massaging her breasts, then removed the silk top and bra, exposing the most beautiful full tits he had ever seen. She laid back on the desk, and Joe removed her skirt, stockings and panties, revealing a neatling trimmed pussy, with thick, blood gorged lips. Joe bent down to her pussy and enjoyed her sweet, musky scent before manuevering his tongue between her lips to taste the sweet juice that flowed from her box. Leslie moaned with delight at the first flick of his tongue over her slick, wet pussy. In the meantime, Enzo had dropped his pants to display his thick cock. Leslie quickly grabbed the six inch meat that dangled just above her face. What Enzo lacked in length, he made up in girth, with a cock that measured three inches in circumference. Leslie opened her mouth wide to swallow the thick dick, gagging at first as her mouth adjusted to the huge member. Enzo kneaded Leslie's huge breasts and rolled her large nipples between his fingers as she sucked him deep in her mouth. Joe continued to work his tongue up and down Leslie's slit, then sensing her heightened arousal began to concentrate on her swollen clit. His tongue lapped at her growing clitoris as she pulled on the back of his head to pull him closer to her. Sensing that her climax was near, Joe fluttered his tongue like a butterfly over her swollen clit sending her over the top as her cunt spasmed a long, deep orgasm. Leslie gagged a couple of times as she came, but did not lose rhythm as she continued to suck Enzo. Joe then stood and removed his pants, his nine inch cock standing at full attention. In no mood to wait for attention, he slid the head of his cock up and down Leslie's pussy, then entered her an inch at a time, impaling the full nine inches into her on the fourth thrust. He took slow, deep thrusts into her tight and wet pussy, his huge balls bouncing lightly on her tight asshole when he entered her fully. Leslie removed Enzo from her mouth momentarily as she gasped from the huge cock that now completely filled her. His thrusts began to pick up at a steady pace, as he grabbed her small waist to pull himself deeper into her wonderful pussy. She began to moan a deep gutteral moan with each thrust. Joe looked down to see the lips of her pussy stretch around his cock as he pulled out of her, then return to position as he thrust deep inside of her. His balls became heavy with cum and he knew his climax was near. Leslie was approaching her own climax and began to suck Enzo deeper into her mouth, while she massaged his massive balls, oblivious to the size that at first had been difficult for her mouth to accomodate. Joe began to quicken the pace, and grunted deeply knowing that he would deliver his load in the next few thrusts. Leslie felt Joe grow inside of her, as the first burst of cum shot from his cock and hit the back of her pussy, it was followed by a second and third burst that were almost as large. Leslie's pussy contracted in a strong orgasm, while Joe continued to shoot a series of smaller shots of thick pearly cream into Leslie's silky wet pussy. Not to be left out, Enzo let out a small scream as he emptied his massive balls down Leslie's throat. Leslie gobbled down the thick goo as quickly as she could, but some of the liquid escaped her lips and dribbled down her chin. She continued to take the last few drops between her pursed lips until Enzo was sucked dry. Joe pulled his now limp member from Leslie's pussy and watched as ounce after ounce of thick white cum poured out of Leslie's hard fucked pussy. As the three lovers recovered, Joe could not help but begin to think about how embarassed they may all feel in the next few minutes. But Leslie calmed his fears with a kiss on the lips for both men and then she asked for another glass of brandy. Minutes later, Joe felt compelled to apologize for what they did, but Leslie's retort was quite surprising. "Who said we were done?" she said. She reached out and began fondling Joe's limp member, which quickly began to spring to life. While Joe stood, she knelt before him and began to suck his big nine inch cock deep into her mouth, while looking deep into his eyes. Periodically she pulled her mouth off of his cock to lick his balls and tease the head of his long member with the tip of her tongue. After a few minutes his balls once again were ready to empty. Aided by her talented tongue and her finger tips that teased his sac, he exploded in her mouth sending wave after wave of jism down her pretty throat. After sucking him dry, she turned to Enzo, hard dick in hand, and she layed on the desk, then signalled him to enter her pussy. Enzo's huge, thick cock seemed to split her in two, but she greedily took him deep into her wet cunt. He rocked deep and hard into her for several minutes. Each time his cock withdrew a look of animal passion appeared on her face as she anticipated the wide thrust of his big dick. He worked her large tits with his hands while keeping his pace as he impaled her pussy. Enzo finally grabbed her shoulders and with five deep slams shot his load deep into her pussy. Tears of joy streamed from her face as she screamed out in wild climax. After the trio recovered, they drove Leslie to her hotel where she kissed Enzo and Joe goodbye, and promised a return trip to see Shireport at completion. All three looked forward to a repeat visit.