2 comments/ 7836 views/ 3 favorites Beef By: bradley_stoke Lin was proud of her pussy. And well she should be. It was a minge in a million. The outer lips unfolded below her crotch and the inner lips further still. And the clit was thick and firm. It had to be after all the attention it had enjoyed. Once a dick passed through the portal and was gripped between the moist and dripping walls of her cunt, her clit shared all the pleasure of the hard thrusts against her cervix. And not just dick, of course. Lin was never so lame as to confine her diet to only sausage. Anything the right shape was welcome: not only fists, either male or female, but also dildos, zucchini, tongues, toes and truncheons. And in case these weren't enough stimulation for her flaps, Lin had rings pierced through her inner vulva from which she could dangle weights for that extra special buzz when the need arose. She had sex any which way: long-nailed fingers squeezed inside her muff or a prick up her arse. And, of course, the nether orifice could tell another story altogether and a good one at that, but Lin was an old-fashioned girl in some ways and she preferred her sex in the front passage where her clit could join in the fun. Men, however... That was another story. They always appreciated special attention at the rear entrance however much they might initially protest. Lin made a point of displaying her quim to its best advantage. She shaved it in the shower every day, together with the stubble on her armpits and along her long slim legs. The smoothness was set off by an all-over golden tan: natural in the summer, sun-bed in the winter. Never spray-on. Lin was a girl who appreciated nature best in its pure raw sweaty glory; even if she enhanced her natural assets with a few discrete piercings and some unflashy but expensive tattoos. No ink around her muff: neither on the gash nor the flaps. Not a trace below the navel and, God forbid, nothing so vulgar as a tattoo near or around her tits. They were already just as perfect as her pussy and exactly as round and firm as the cheeks of her arse. In case nature's bounty wasn't already enough, Lin was never so complacent as to allow her natural advantages to succumb to nature's ravages. When she wasn't working out in either her own bedroom or that of her lovers, fuck-buddies, girlfriends and the occasional one-night stand, she exercised in the gym. And this was most often the big, brash, noisy and brightly-lit one just over the road and down an alley from the office where she was employed as a Sales & Marketing Exec. And by fuck she needed the escape. There was only so much yelling at juniors, barking down the phone to reps and rattling off e-mails that a girl could take. There had to be some kind of a retreat for a high-powered girl in a high-powered job in an open-plan office that was normally silent only when the last Armani or MaxMara suit had quit the building and it became the preserve of the cleaning staff. Not that Toucan's was a gym where Lin could rest her tonsils if she wanted to be heard. Due to the constant Heavy Rock and EDM soundtrack in even the changing room, she'd have to yell as much in the gym as she'd already been doing all day in the office. And then she could occupy herself on the running machines, the weights and the exercise bikes: her muscles aching from the strain of exercise and her eyes on the other men and women around her who were also working out. Camel toes were so naff. Only women with absolutely no taste or style would allow the pinch of latex to reveal the contours of their beef curtains. Lin was careful with her choice of sportswear to ensure that her vulva wouldn't peek out or her bosom slip to one side. It wasn't always easy to get it right, especially when you'd been running on the treadmill, jerking the weights or pushing on the pedals: hair tied back in an unfashionable pony-tail; sweat coursing down the cheeks and into the eyes; muscles tensing and aching; and a bottle of Evian close at hand. However, even though Lin would never let her private parts be anything other than private in a public space (there was always a chance that an intern or junior might admire not her muscular prowess but a glimpse of contoured clit), she was a voyeur for the indiscretions of others. Naff or not, Lin relished the unintended latex bulge of a fanny's contours, a firm nipple or, best of all, a man's packet. But it wasn't what was between the thighs that first drew Lin's eyes to Col. It was the abs that did it. Col was well and truly ripped: a bona fide beefcake. He had the kind of body with which nature could never have blessed him without a tad of help: not only as the result of good strenuous exercise and a rigorous routine but supplemented by plenty of protein, a course of steroids and absolutely no carbs. Lin liked her men to have biceps that gleamed when oiled, could lift a man up high on the bar and, naturally, came with the stamina to show a girl a good time for as long a time as she was in the mood. And Col was clearly not a chav who'd just come off the building site or the type who paraded his privates at a hen party. He had expensively cut hair—possibly Toni & Guy—and just the right length of Advertising Exec stubble on his chiselled chin. In short, Col was prime beef and Lin wanted her slice. Of course, Lin didn't know that the hunk of sculptured muscle pumping iron opposite her was called Col, any more than Col knew the name of the lithe, red-lipped, blonde-haired woman who introduced herself before he'd had the opportunity to exchange weights for the running machine. He was clearly startled to be waylaid in this way, but flattered to be able to advise her on his choice of bottled water and the name of the shop where he'd bought his Giuseppe Zanotti trainers. And when Lin proffered her hand with a simple "Lin", he responded with the equally monosyllabic "Col". "Col, eh?" said Lin, relishing the sound in her mouth just as she imagined she'd soon relish the taste of his cock down her throat. "There's an All Bar One just opposite. Fancy a drink after?" "A drink? I dunno..." "Just the one. Doesn't have to be something that'd bloat you. Me: I go for a Vodka & Lime. Nothing fancy." "Well..." "I'll meet you outside then. Fifteen minutes?" "Yeah. I guess..." "Fine," said Lin with a private smile. She strode off to the changing room with a nonchalant wiggle of her hips to clinch the date. Lin was a good timekeeper, so she deliberately added an extra ten minutes until she ventured out the changing room. She had a long leisurely shower during which she soaped and shampooed off every last fragrance of perspiration and gave her twat a quick little frig to get her into the mood and to ready it for eventual action. Whereas in the gym Lin was careful to hide her assets, she was totally shameless in the changing room. She was hasty to tug off her shorts, trainers and top and tardy to pull on her evening outfit of J Brand jeans, Carvela Kurt Geiger heels and a Givenchy sweatshirt. In the meantime and totally in the nude, she luxuriated in the shower, blow-dried her hair, painted her nails, plied on the rouge and lipstick, and eyed up the female talent as much and as surreptitiously as they did her. Although Lin considered herself to be straight—she was definitely no bull-dyke lesbo—she enjoyed making love with women and there were several who caught her eye while they also towelled themselves down or plucked out loose hairs from between their inner and outer labia. In particular, she took a fancy to a brown-skinned woman of indeterminate ethnicity who had a gorgeous pair of buttocks and a pussy to die for. Maybe another day. But today she was otherwise engaged. "Sorry to be late," Lin lied when she emerged from the changing room to see a nervous-looking Col waiting beside the energy drink vending machine. Neither she nor Col exchanged many words as they strode out of the gym: he with his bag slung over his shoulder and she with hers strapped to her back. All that was necessary were a few grunted questions and equally terse replies. "Where'd you work?" "PWC. And you?" "Andersons. Live nearby?" "Edgware." "Fucking feel for you," Lin commiserated as she calculated the time of the last tube up to North London. "It's not cheap anywhere these days, is it?" "You're telling me." To be honest, Lin barely cared what Col said. Fuck it! When was the last time she cared for what a man had to say. It was always the same shit anyway. Money. Cars. Football. As long as it was none of that whiney 'My girlfriend doesn't understand me' shit that usually predicated a limp dick and a fucking waste of time. What Lin wanted was those abs wrapped around her, that designer stubble brushing her shaven twat and a good long bedspring-breaking fuck. But formalities had to be observed. "Single Vodka & Lime for me. No ice and no fucking umbrella," Lin commanded as she pressed her bum onto one of the last few remaining stools in a bar jam-packed with expensive suits, even more pricey designer jeans and the aroma of celebrity-endorsed perfume. She could see from the crush at the counter that it would be some time till Col returned with her drink and whatever piss-tasting beer he'd choose for himself. Enough time for Lin to check Facebook, Twitter and her e-mail. And important time it was too. With Col living beyond the bounds of civilisation at the extreme end of the Northern Line, Lin needed to find somewhere nearby to stay the night. And she wasn't going to let Col into her Docklands apartment until she was confident that he was more than a one-time fuck. Christ! For all she knew he might keep his shoes on and leave footprints all over her recently laid wood floor. "Crowded at the bar!" exclaimed Col when he finally returned. "Penalty of popularity," remarked Lin with absolutely no sympathy as she eyed Col's choice of drink. A bottle of Grolsch. Only one step away from a poncy Mexican lager with a lemon in the neck. "Good here though." "It's OK." "Must be even worse on a Friday or Saturday night." "Fucking heaving," said Lin who didn't know and didn't really care. Bars weren't really her scene. Beyond being a place to make an appointment or kill time before descending on a night club, what fucking use was a place where all you could do was drink and talk? And if that was all you wanted to do, why go to a bar? And, in any case, what kind of conversation was even possible over the canned music that was meant to get you into the mood for moving on to a club where there was always a chance for a quickie or a line in the loo (and usually both at the same time). Col was trying his best to keep up the semblance of a conversation over the echoing sounds of Avicii and Robin Thicke, but Lin could scarcely hear a word he was saying. However, she nodded her head on occasion and said "Brilliant!" and "Awesome!" and "Fuck me!" whenever Col's mostly bland facial expression appeared to require such a response. In truth her mind was elsewhere and only a part of it was distracted by the sight of four swanky execs boasting about their bonuses and choice of sports car. "D'you fancy a fuck?" she said when she noted that Col's attempts at maintaining the conversational flow had well and truly stalled. "Sorry?" "Don't act so fucking shocked, Col," said Lin with a broad seductive smile as she placed her manicured fingers on the ripped muscles of his forearm. "My mate Kath's got a flat just a few streets here. She's said she wouldn't mind." "Are you serious?" "I'm always fucking serious." "And...er...Kath's OK?" "'Course she fucking is," said Lin, already getting bored with this negotiation. Her pussy was itching for action and every minute of prevarication was a minute less she could fuck. "Drink up and let's go." "You really mean it?" asked Col as he raised his half-finished bottle. "Or you can just leave your beer," said Lin. "I don't care." "OK.OK," said Col as he hastily guzzled down the contents. There wasn't much chat as Col and Lin walked away from All Bar One and strode across a few streets and down a few others. Not that Lin was encouraging it. She was furiously texting Kath on her phone and was quite happy for Col to follow her in whichever direction she led him. "She's gonna leave the door open for us," Lin announced. "So we don't have to ring." "That's thoughtful of her," Col remarked. "I guess," Lin agreed. "It's 'cause she's with Tone. She doesn't like to be interrupted." "Tone?" "You'll like him. He's a hunk." "Is that a recommendation?" "For me it is. And he fucks like crazy." "I'm really not sure that..." "Right here we are," said Lin as they approached a non-descript but phenomenally expensive central London apartment block. She gently pushed the front door and, as she expected, found it wasn't closed. The foreign residents in the building, who made up by far its majority, had no sense of home security. That's why you need a good lock on your apartment door. "Come on up, Col." Four flights up a carpeted stair-case that needed vacuum cleaning and, as Kath had promised, the flat door on the left was left on the latch. Lin pushed it open and signalled Col to follow. "Hiya Kath!" yelled Lin. "You in?" "Here!" shouted back Kath. Lin carefully secured the flat door and strolled into Lin's bedroom where, true to her word, she and Tone were sprawled naked on the over-sized bed: Kath on top and Tone beneath with his prick deep inside Kath's lightly trimmed quim. "Hiya Lin," said Tone good-naturedly, but not breaking off his famously slow thrusts. "Don't mind us, Tone," said Lin. "You got space to spare on your bed, Kath?" "For you, Lin," said Kath, "there's always space to spare." "You heard the lady, Col," said Lin as she stooped down to unstrap her Carvela Kurt Geiger heels. "Take off your kit." "In front of Tone?" asked an aghast Col. "Fuck, Col!" said an impatient Lin, now stripped down to only her knickers and bra. "Tone won't mind. Him and me are long-time fuck-buddies, aren't we hon?" "Fuck yeah!" said Tone poking his head to one side of the struts of Kath's supporting arms. "Just don't forget that it's me you're fucking now, sweetheart," snapped back Kath who eased Tone's penis back inside her just as it was threatening to spring free. "So, come on, Col," said a now totally naked Lin sat on the edge of Kath's mattress. "Get your arse in gear." Col was clearly reluctant but he had no choice in the matter now. He was careful about the order in which he tugged off his clothes. First off came his leather jacket and plain white tee-shirt. And this revealed the best of him. There were muscles on his torso far beyond what was necessary. It was evident that although Kath and Tone were occupied with one another neither could take their eyes off Col's abs. "Hasta La Vista, Baby!" Kath remarked approvingly, half-expecting Col to do some kind of body-building routine. Next off were the trainers and jeans to reveal more visual treats in the shape of his calf-muscles and thighs. Tone was pumping Kath even more leisurely as he studied Col's body: now naked bar his black cotton boxers. Although just as both Lin and Kath preferred the pleasures of the opposite sex but didn't draw the line at gender alone, so too was Tone quite capable of sharing his intimate attention with another man if the occasion called for it. And then the disappointment. And perhaps Lin should have been prepared for it by the evident reluctance with which Col pulled down his boxers. "Is that all you've got to offer?" she cried in dismay. "Fuck! It's just like a little boy's willy," chimed in Kath who'd wiggled away from Tone, whose much larger dick was still fully erect and shining with vaginal lubrication. "Dude! That's not what I expected!" said Tone as he scrutinised Col's undersized penis. It was of average thickness, but so short that it seemed abnormally plump. "My girlfriend doesn't complain..." Col protested. "Well, she fucking ought to!" said Lin. "What the fuck am I supposed to do with this little thing?" "Suck it and see," suggested Tone. "Yeah," agreed Kath. "Sometimes these small dicks get a lot bigger than you'd expect after a good blowjob." "It's gonna need a fucking miracle!" Lin exclaimed. "I'll help you out," said Kath. "You don't mind, do you Tone?" "Fuck no," said Tone. "If the two of you can't wake the fucking dead, I don't know who could." Both Lin and Kath plied their red rouged lips to Col's penis: taking turns to slip it between their teeth and wrap their tongue around it. The taste was no worse than any other man's dick: Col had obviously given it a thorough soaping in the men's showers at the gym. And with the equally expert attention from Lin and Kath, who'd often shared the same man at the end of a night out, Col's penis was steadily pumping up in size. But to no avail. Even fully erect, it was hardly better than serviceable. It was the same size as most men's dicks when totally limp. It was stiff and there was no sign that it had any further to grow. "You got any Viagra, Tone?" asked Lin. "Not on me," said Tone. "Anyway, it ain't often that I need it." "Don't talk shit, Lin," said Kath. "Viagra doesn't add inches to an erect dick. It just makes a limp dick stiff. There ain't no more space for this little thing to grow. It's as big as it gets." "Is that so, Col?" asked Lin, still gripping Col's penis in her fist and gazing at him in the forlorn hope that he might say otherwise. "My girlfriend says it's good enough..." he offered. "It'll just have to do, Lin," said Kath sympathetically. "Well, if it is then we better get on with it," said Lin now with little remaining expectation of a rewarding fuck. Perhaps Lin's heart wasn't in it, but after several minutes of Col's ineffectual pounding between her thighs in the most boring missionary position imaginable, she was still no convert to the unsuspected pleasures of the smaller penis. Compared to what she was used to, it was like a little thumb poking inside her. It was almost more an irritation than a pleasure. Her pussy was still only as lubed as it had been before Col had started fucking and the only real thrill she got was from being gripped by a man with a truly god-like muscular physique and the buzz of pushing your bosom against unresisting abs. But then Lin had already been down the gym. She didn't need more exercise. She wanted a good fuck. And despite whatever his girlfriend might have told him, Col wasn't a good fuck. "For fuck's sake, Col!" exclaimed Lin at last. "My cunt's still burning and you're fucking not doing it!" She pushed herself off Col and addressed Kath who was still being desultorily fucked by Tone. "You don't mind, Kath, do you?" she asked as she swivelled towards Tone. "I've got needs that only Tone could satisfy..." "Yeah!" said Kath good-naturedly. "Of course, Lin. Don't worry." She eased Tone's prick out of her quim. "I'm gonna be with Tone all night anyway. And I can see you're desperate!" "That's so fucking true, Kath!" exclaimed Lin as Tone slipped his prick inside her cunt and he responded to Lin's hot burning desire by stepping up the pace of his thrusts. "What I need is a good-sized prick on a good-sized man..." Lin really couldn't care less how Col felt while Tone brought her slowly but surely to the orgasm she'd been hoping for all night. As Tone plied at her in his sympathetic and expert way, profiting from the many previous (and rather diverse) occasions that they'd fucked before, she was totally oblivious to the concerns of the man she'd so successfully picked up earlier in the evening. How did Col's humiliation and shame at having a stunted penis compare with the sexual ecstasy she was receiving at long last? Beef-Cake Being bisexual, I have always been attracted a certain kind of man. A man with an in-shape body, dark hair, always shorter than me, skinny, a cute small ass and a pretty boy face. All of that could peak my interest in men. Although I have never pursued anything anal, I had more fun with men on nights I couldn't pick up a girl, or just felt like being with a man. I was more than happy to spend the night making out, mutual masturbation and even a little oral fun. On a night out with some friends, we took our fun to some of the local clubs on a lazy Friday night. The Clubs ended up being beyond boring. When most of the girls in our party decided to dance at a gay club, most of the guys said goodnight. The girls in the group wanted to go to a gay bar to dance without other men or losers hitting on them. I thought I would tag along, and actually found a boy that matched my criteria for some dancing and maybe more. I am a tall blonde haired man, on the skinny side, but well built. The boy I was dancing with was shorter than me and was more of the girl as I played more the part of the man as we flirted and danced. We had our fun on the dance floor and feeling each other out. But soon the night was ending and my new friend was going to leave me alone. Many of my girlfriends said I always picked the same kind of guy and dared me to go outside the norm. As they sat and tried to think up of different kinds of men for me to date I finished my beer and told them to let me know when they had a solution. I went home disappointed and slept off my buzz. The next morning, Connie, one of the girls that I was out with the night before, called me to tell me what kind of man I should be looking for. I couldn't believe that they were that serious about it. "I was working out this morning at the gym," she said, "and it hit me, you should be looking for a beefy weight lifter." I laughed at her. "You can't be serious!" "Of course I'm serious," she pouted, "someone who is at least 300 pounds of pure muscle and over 6 feet tall." "Yea, like any of those guys are bi or gay." I just couldn't see it. "Come on Keith, you took our dare, so why don't you come work out with me later today and we will scope some men out." I could believe that this is what my drunken big mouth had gotten me into. I reluctantly agreed, and the two of us made a plan to catch a 6 foot, 300 pound brute. We agreed that I would have to be more girly so Connie was going to lend me one of her leotards she sometimes wears to work out. I showed up at Connie's and was surprised to see what she had planned for me to wear. It was a bright shiny pink body suit that was closed toed and had long sleeves with a low cut front to show most of my chest. Over those was a high cut thong one piece that was black. With black leg warmers and some pink tennis shoes, I took a look at myself in the mirror. The '80s called and wanted their look back. Even though I felt I looked ridiculous, Connie almost thought it looked sexy on me. The leotard was tight and showed of my impressive package as well as most of the rest of my body. The way the leotard felt against my body felt nice so I thought whatever, even if I just wear this to the gym it may get me out of this ridiculous dare. Some of my other girlfriends had decided to meet us at the gym and most laughed at my outfit as I took a place behind one of the tread mills. Connie did some scouting for me as I got comfortable looking very feminine and scaring the locals away from me. Connie finally came back to pull my arm over to the free weights and I met a few rather large men, but all mostly looked upon me in horror. The ordeal ended mercifully as we unsuccessfully flirted and talked to 7 or 8 strong men. Connie finally gave up her crusade and we took off. When we got back to Connie's I decided to just go home and I would send her clothes back after I had washed them. As I drove home I couldn't help but think of some of the men we saw with their hands on my leotard thighs. I was starting to heat up my body with these runaway thoughts that by the time I drove into my parking space, my cock was rock hard in my workout uniform. I ran into my apartment and pursued my new fantasy. I turned my stereo on to the same classic rock station at the gym. I kicked off my pink tennis shoes and began a little dirty dance for no one. I was imagining I was a sexy workout chick that was trying to turn on one of those burly men. Soon my body wanted to fuck and be fucked. The tightness of the leotard and the sexy images in my mind suddenly made me explode. I came so hard that Connie's leotards could barely keep it in. I then laid on the floor, letting my body settle and come back from pleasure land. I was such an intense moment that I knew I wanted more. I cleaned up after myself and washed Connie's leotard in hopes of returning it to her and continued on with my weekend. A few weeks later I was sent on a business trip to Los Angeles. I was excited to go to L.A. for a week that when I packed I came across the leotard I had yet to return to Connie. For some reason I packed it with the leg warmers and pink tennis shoes. I thought maybe in my hotel room after a long day of meetings I could unwind in them. It was a kinky thought, but I liked it. When I arrived in L.A. and got to the hotel I began regretting packing the leotard as most of the week I would be in meetings. The first couple of days went by with little fanfare, just worked then slept. I had little time to go out and experience L.A. On the second to last day we cut meetings short and I finally had some time on my hands to experience a little of the city. I decided to get one work out in and I put on my normal shorts and t-shirt and went to the hotel gym. I took a few minutes warming up then hit the stair master. I worked out for a good 30 minutes and then did a little free weight work when I saw him. He was lifting the heaviest weights in the room. His short dark hair and piercing brown eyes caught my attention, and then it was his well built body. His arms ripped of muscle, his ass was tight and strong, and his thighs were three times the mass of mine. When he stood, he stood a good 3 inches taller than me. He was in a tank and shorts. I stared at him as he lifted the heaviest setting on every machine and every free weight. He knew I was staring at him because every now and then he would look over and smile. I would freeze and give a quick smile then look away, only to return my gaze on him. Finally I worked up the courage to at least say hi. As I walked over to him, he stopped his workout and looked a bit puzzled at me. I thought for sure I was going to blow it and keep walking past him. But I decided I was either going to sink or swim. "Hey, that is quite a workout," I said to him. "Thanks," he responded a little confused. "I'm Keith," I said holding my hand out to shake. I remembered what Connie said about being more feminine around these men so I let my wrist be a little limp. His hands were surprisingly soft although I could feel the enormous strength this man had. "Hi, I am Sean," he said as we shared a handshake. I could tell by his demeanor that he was a bit surprised at my weak handshake. "Look, I know this might sound a little forward," I started, "but my business associate can't make it to dinner tonight and I was wondering if you would like to join me. I mean the dinner is already paid for," I lied, "and it would be a shame for me just to sit alone. You're the only person I have met today." It took a moment for this to digest in his muscle bound brain. I felt like bolting away. But instead he started to nod. "Sure," he said, "where is dinner?" I quickly told him of a restaurant down the street from the hotel and told him to be there at six. He agreed and we parted ways. I immediately went to my room, I was so sexually charged from our brief encounter that my cock was standing straight up. I tried to calm myself down thinking that it may not even be sex. He is probably straight as an arrow, I thought. Deciding what to wear was excruciating. I finally resigned that nothing would happen so I suited up in my best business attire and made my way early to the restaurant. I got a table that was a bit out of the way and set up the meal so it would just be paid for, no bill. I then waited as 6 o'clock came and past. I was starting to get nervous after another half hour slipped past. But then there he was, wearing a sport coat and turtle neck. Sean had a wide smile on his face and greeted me with a hug. It totally took me off guard but when a 300 pound man wants to hug you, you better let him. We started in on dinner and made plenty of small talk. Sean was from Kansas City and enters body building competitions all over the country. He works out twice a day, and loves to keep his body big. We sat and talked, and ate. When dinner was over we ordered one more round of drinks. I was a bit curious so I worked up the nerve to finally ask. "So do you take steroids?" I asked. "I do," he said nonchalantly. "You can't win in this sport with out taking them." "Doesn't that ruin your sex drive?" "Yea," he shrugged, "but after working out I always get a little horny, and there are plenty of little workout bunnies at the gym that I like to leave with." "Ah," I resigned. He is straight as an arrow. "There is just something about a cute bod in tight leotards," he laughed. "So are you going to work out again tonight?" I asked him. "Oh yea," Sean said while he looked at a couple of girls walking in to the bar area. "I will be down there after dinner, need to change and then hit the weights." "How long do you work out in a stretch?" "About an hour to hour and a half?" The rest of the conversation was about little things. There was little going on in that head of Sean's. Still he got some of my jokes, and we ended up having seconds on the drinks. Sean was a nice guy, but a stupid one. It was almost a turn off. Our drinks finished quickly and we shared a cab back to the hotel. I was beginning to feel disappointed about the whole deal when we walked in the lobby together. We said our good byes in front of the elevator and he came in for a hug thanking me for dinner. Then we parted ways. Standing in my room I couldn't believe that it went so badly for me, and I flopped down on the bed. I tried to fantasize about the dinner going differently. That is when I turned my head toward my suitcase and a piece of Connie's leotard was poking out. Thinking of my conversation with him before, I looked at the clock and decided to take another chance on Sean. I quickly disrobed, slipping into the hot pink bodysuit. Then I pulled on the black thong one piece with leg warmers and pink tennis shoes. I took a quick look in the mirror. It defiantly looked gay, but I pulled the black thong piece up to give my ass a good wedgie. I gave my ass a nice rounded look in the pink leotards. I took a towel and wrapped it around my neck and checked the clock again. I should be arriving when Sean would be finishing. I made my way to the hotel gym. My mind was in a whirlwind, a high that I can't really describe. I ignored all of the raised eyebrows in my direction. Sean was lifting some heavy weights on a bench on the opposite side of the gym. I called his name to say hi then walked straight to the stair master. Sean did an obvious double take. He was in shorts and a wife beater. He must have liked what he saw because it didn't take long for him to walk my way. "Hey," he said looking more at my body than me, "that is quite the outfit." I brushed my hand across his chest in a very girly manner. "Oh I am glad you like it Sean." He stood there and watched a few seconds of me working out. I was so excited that I finally had him on a hook. His strong soft hands began to run up my legs. I must have been very excited because it showed as I marched up imaginary stairs. Then his hands reached my ass and he cupped them. I gave him a coy look. "Then you must like boys somewhat," I cooed. He didn't respond, just ran his fingers up and down the crack of my ass as I slowed my workout machine down. I was enjoying this little touchy feely moment. I could start to feel the pure sexual power well up in my body. "I think we should go somewhere," Sean said, still concentrating on my body. "Lead the way cutie." He helped me off the machine and we held hands to the elevators. Sean was so much bigger than me that I truly felt womanly as we stood in the elevator in a close embrace. Our arms wrapped around one another, my fingers feeling out his gigantic muscles. We reached his floor and we quickly found his room. Sean fumbled with the key. Once inside though, his strong hands were all over me. He picked me up with little effort. I have never experience such a feeling of being overwhelmed by somebody. He laid me gently on the bed and resumed his feeling of my body in the tight workout leotards. I arched my back in pleasure and moaning when he did something that felt good, which was everything. Then his strong hands reached my harden cock and stopped. I looked at him, as I could see the puny little gears in his head turning. I took his hand and ran it gently the length of my cock. Sean picked up that it was okay for him to play with it. The gentle rubbing started to become more of a deep rub. I have never felt such power before as he rubbed my cock making it harder and harder. Then he leaned in. I found myself driving my tongue into this man's mouth. I wrapped my hands around his thick neck and thrust my hips each time he rubbed my cock through those hot pink leotards. The kiss was intense and both of us were moaning as our tongues danced with one another. I pulled him away just enough to tell him I wanted his penis. Sean resumed his hard kissing and worked himself out of is shorts at the same time. I was almost shocked when I saw it. Sean was a big muscle man, but he had a tiny cock. It was almost the size of my pinky finger. I almost wanted to laugh but I held back. I started to rub it hard expecting it to grow, but it was at full capacity. The steroids obviously did a number on him. Sean sat on my chest and tilted my head up towards his member. The forcefulness took me off guard, but in a way also turned me on. I started to suck him off, he was bucking his hips with each stroke. Sean's body tensed up and I had to find a way to stop him from cumming so soon. I reached my hand to his strong chest in a motion to tell him to stop. Sean obliged and dismounted me. "I know you want to fuck so bad baby," I cooed at him, "so why don't you soap up that cock of yours and take my ass." I couldn't believe I said it. I never did anything anal. Maybe it was the tiny cock, or the need just to get fucked, or Sean's power over my both physically and sexually. What ever the reason, I wanted my ass violated by him. Sean took little time lubing up his tiny prick and I slipped out of my leotards and pushed them to my thighs. Just as I bent over to take off the leg warmers, Sean was in me. His cock, though tiny, was red hot and my anus suddenly exploded with pain and pleasure at the same time. I screamed the first couple of thrusts inside me, but then as Sean gained rhythm, I was starting to enjoy it. At times I couldn't feel him, it would just be his beefy thighs against the back of my legs. But I knew he was inside me, and that was sending my body into pleasurable sexual throngs. My chest was beat red, my neck and thighs also reddened. My cock stayed surprisingly limp during the ordeal, but it felt so good flinging around each time Sean pounded my ass. And almost as fast as he had entered, Sean's body went rigid, his cock, the biggest I had ever felt it that night, exploded. He was filling my ass with his cum. He let out a huge grunt and made sure all of it had gone inside me. When he finished I turned and pulled him close. For some reason I felt I needed him to hug me, to have those large arms around me. We kissed standing up for a short while before he lifted me once more onto the bed and kissed some more. The kissing was electric, and my hands over his strong body sent shivers through my spine. I never wanted to cuddle so badly. I was becoming a big pussy I thought over and over as we kissed and touched, but I didn't care. I pulled the leotards back up over my waist as to not make too much of a mess on the bed. Sean didn't seem to mind because his hands were all over my leotard encased cock once more. "You didn't get a chance," he said after a long session of kissing. "I know," I purred. "Do you want to suck it?" "No," Sean responded. I was a little hurt by that, but was feeling too good to care. "But I will let you jerk off on my body, anywhere except the face." I pushed him back on the bed and gave him a playful little kiss. Then I pulled my cock out and began to slowly stroke it over his washboard abs. In comparison I was almost 3 times bigger and thicker than Sean's. I smiled at that piece of knowledge as I built up my sexual tension to cum. Sean turned his head away, he didn't want to watch. That was fine with me, and after feeling his strong chest and abs with one hand and masturbating with the other, I exploded all over his chest. I rubbed my seed around his muscles for a few minutes and then licked my fingers clean. Sean's demeanor changed. I could tell suddenly he wasn't into it anymore. Rather than try to recreate the previous mood, I took my hint and quickly dressed and started to leave. As I finished putting my leotard back in place and taking a towel to cover the now drenched spots both in the back and the front, Sean disappeared into the bathroom. I left with out a word and returned to my room. I took off the leotards, legwarmers and pink shoes and jumped in the shower. My ass starting to feel sore and gobs of cum were leaking out. I must have stayed in there for a couple of hours reliving the experience in my head. I made myself cum several times until no more could come out. The next morning I continued my day of meetings and could hardly concentrate. After a day of meetings I went to a workout store and bought a black and leopard print leotard. I thought I would work out one more time to see if Sean was there. I even wore women's perfume and slapped on some lip liner. But Sean wasn't there. After getting some strange looks from the ones that were there, I decided to go back to my room and pack for the flight back the next morning. When I got home, Connie was the first girl I saw when returning her leotard, freshly cleaned. I told her everything that happened. She was laughing the whole time. "So do you have any proof?" She asked with an eyebrow raised. "What, you think I made this up." "Oh you just happen to go to L.A. and come back fucked by a 300 pound gorilla?" We both snickered at the idea. But I told her it was the first and last time I would be seen with such a man. But from time to time I think of Sean working out and I slip into my black and leopard print leotard and fantasize about another night with him. Beef Stew for Dinner I was still shaking my head when she finally realized what I meant. "I'm sorry, Master, but I thought you -- " she started but stopped when she saw the expression on my face get harsher. "I'm sorry, Master." She lowered her head and put her hands behind her back. "You should know me better than that," I said and reached for her left breast. Very slowly I ran my fingers over her skin, then I suddenly pulled my hand back. She flinched, expecting me to bring my hand down hard on her tender skin but instead I reached down and pulled the box of beef broth out of the trash can. "Any other short cuts you were planning to take with my stew?" "No, Master," she said. Now that she realized that I wasn't going to smack her, her face got a little happier. "Good, then go back to the store. The red dress with the black dots." "Yes, Master. Thank you, Master." "You're welcome," I said and gave her a deep kiss. I was watching TV when she got back home. I paused the program and watched how she put the shopping bag down, kicked off her shoes and then pulled her dress over her head. Her boobs were still a little red from the sun burn she had gotten earlier in the week but the rest of her body was slowly developing a tan. Quickly she put the dress on the hanger and put it back in the coat closet. Then she sank to her knees and crawled over to the arm chair I was sitting in. I waited until she had knelt down then I reached for her hair and started to play with it. Like a little kitten she laid her head down on my leg and started to purr. "You're cute." "Thank you, Master," she said and looked up at me, a wide smile on her face. "You're welcome," I said, took my hand off her hair and pointed my index finger at her nose. "Now go cook, it will anyway have to simmer for a long time." "Yes, Master," she said. I watched her crawl away, then I resumed the TV show I had been watching. My peace only lasted a few minutes, then I heard the sound of her knees dragging over the carpet behind me. I hit the pause button again and waited until she had assumed position in front of me again. "Yes, puppy?" I asked. "Master, I'm sorry but I have to go back to the store." I took a deep breath and grabbed a hand full of her hair. I wasn't unusually rough but she anyway let out a low whine. "Why?" "I forgot carrots, Master." "You can't make a beef stew without carrots." "I know, Master. I'm sorry, Master." I let go of her hair and motioned her to come closer. Without making a noise, she inched closer until I felt her boobs press against my leg. Her nipples were rock hard. "Bring me the clover clamps from my bedside table and a short piece of chain. Three inches will do." For a split second, her eyes opened wide, then they narrowed again and she gave me a pathetic look. "And the bit gag," I added. She sighed and nodded slowly. "Yes, Master." When she came back a minute later, she was balancing the clamps and a bit gag on her back. I picked the items of her body and then motioned her to get up on my lap. It brought a smile to her face and the smile got even wider when I reached between her legs and started to rub her clit. "There is enough work that needs to be done," I said. "And we won't need the carrots until the rest has cooked for a while anyway. So once I'm done with you, I'll go to the store and you start cooking." "Yes, Master," she answered, starting to push herself against my hand. "Horny?" "Yes, Master." I laughed and nodded. "Good," I said and pulled my hand from between her legs. I brought my fingers to her lips and she hungrily sucked them into her mouth. She didn't fight me when I pulled both her hands behind her back and grabbed both her wrists with my left. Then I pulled her away from me and started to tease her nipples with my other hand. She moaned loudly and arched her back but as quickly as her moans had started they turned into whining when I stopped and picked up one of the clamps instead. "Stay still," I demanded and opened the first clover clamp. "Yes, Master," she said and closed her eyes. For a few seconds I watched her rhythmic breathing, then I suddenly snapped the clamp in place. Her body jerked toward me but when I tightened my grip on her wrists she stopped moving. "Now the second one," I said and took the second clamp. I let go of her wrists and reached for the clamp that was already hanging from her left nipple. "Jerk all you want," I told her and guided the other clamp toward her right nipple. "You're mean." I had to laugh. "And it took you this long to figure that out?" "No, Master, but I just now --" She never finished the sentence. Her eyes opened wide and she inhaled sharply when I put the second clamp in place but to my surprise, she managed to stay in place. "Very good," I said. "Now put the gag on yourself." I slipped my hand back between her legs and pushed two of my fingers deep into her pussy. I wasn't surprised to feel how much wetter she was now. Slight pain was always turning her on. Unfortunately for her, I was going to more than slight pain. As soon as the gag was in place I turned the clamp on her left nipple until it was pointing upward. The half twist was enough for her to suck in air again and start whining through the gag. "Oh, poor you," I said and twisted the other clamp. I waited until her screams had ebbed away, then I attached the chain to one of the clamps and ran it through the D-ring on the front of her collar. "And this is where the real pain starts," I said. My voice alone was enough to make her shiver. Then I tugged on the chain and hooked it into the end of the other clamp. The shivering stopped. For a few seconds she sat on my lap perfectly silent. She didn't move. She didn't blink. Not even breathing. Then she started to scream. I reached up, grabbed her hair firmly and used it to turn her head so she was looking at me. "I'm not mad," I told her. "I am just making sure that you won't try to take shortcuts when carrying out my orders." She muttered something between her yelps and moans but I couldn't understand a single word. "Off and back into the kitchen with you." She squealed something that could have been an acknowledgment, and then slid off my lap. I quickly got up and watched her crawl into the kitchen. It was a beautiful sight. I reached down to adjust my hard cock in my pants but when my fingers brushed against the fabric I realized that she had left a big wet spot on thigh. When I returned from changing, she was in the kitchen cooking. The pain was obvious in her face but she looked so cute, her cheeks flushed and her nipples dark purple and stretched to twice their normal length. "Be good, it won't be long," I said and gave her a playful smack on her ass. She responded with a low moan and pushed her butt back against my hand. I gave her a second smack, then I pushed my hand between her legs and ran my fingers over her labia. She was dripping wet. "Maybe I underestimated how much of a masochist you are," I said and took the few steps into the living room. I grabbed the pony tail butt plug off the coffee table and quickly returned to the kitchen. As if she had known what I was doing, she had lowered her body over the counter and spread her legs willingly. "I thought you said this plug was way too big for you," I said and slowly ran the tip of the toy back and forth between her pussy lips. She moaned loudly and pushed herself back at the toy but before she could get the toy to slide into her pussy, I pulled it away. "You're enjoying yourself way too much," I told her. "And now keep still." I pressed the toy against her anus. With her own juices as lubrication the first two inches slid in with almost any resistance and even then it didn't take much force to push in deeper. "Good girl," I said and took a hold of her hair as I pushed the toy in deeper. With every inch it got harder and harder to push the toy inside and her moans got louder. "Good girl," I said again and gave the toy another good shove. The toy slid in until the thickest part was forcing open her anus. I held in place for a few seconds, then I allowed it to slide in all the way. She jerked, screamed out against the gag and then reached behind her for the toy. "No," I hissed at her and gave her another smack on the ass. "Go back to cooking and I will be home again soon." Her tail was wiggling when I came home. She was doing something over the sink and hadn't noticed me yet. Instead she was standing there, doing her chores, whining the whole time. Every now and then she would stop and a stretched moan would escape her throat, instantly getting me hard. It was such a nice view but when she arched her back and lowered her upper body to the counter tops again, I couldn't help myself any louder. I know she was just resting her boobs on the counters, taking the weight of her nipples for a while, but I didn't care. The way she arched her back, pushing her ass into my direction was just too much of an invitation. I unzipped my pants as I crossed the kitchen, and brushed the tail aside. She jumped when she suddenly felt my touch but before she could turn around or get away I had gotten a hold of her hips and thrusted my cock deep into her dripping wet pussy. She had cum twice before I felt myself getting close. I let go of her hips and grabbed her hair instead, pulling her back against me, pushing my cock and the toy even deeper into her. She screamed out loud and I could feel her body starting to tremble again but this time it was my turn. I pulled out and yanked her body off the counter. She screamed when the full weight of her boobs suddenly pulled on her nipples again but I didn't hesitate a second. I forced her down on her knees and then stepped in front of her. Still screaming against the gag she somehow managed to behave her self, closing her eyes and putting her hands behind her back. "Good, puppy," I moaned. I kept my left hand on her head and grabbed my cock with the right. It was already throbbing and I was so close that it only took a few strokes before I started to cum. When I opened my eyes again and looked down, I saw her pretty face covered with my cum. It was on her forehead, her cheek and a few drops had even her nose. Slowly I let go of her hair and then reached down to undo the chain that connected the clamps. She yelped but that was nothing compared to how loud she screamed when I took off the left clamp. She tore her eyes open when the blood rushed back into her nipple and when I reached for the other clamp, she reached up to fend off my hands "Don't even try," I hissed and pushed her hand out of the way. She said something against the gag but before she was even done, I pulled off the other clamp and enjoyed a second wave of loud screams. "Cute," I said and stepped a little closer again. I grasped my cock and wiped the last drop of cum and her own juices onto her right cheek. Then I stepped back and blew her a kiss. "Good, now go finish my dinner," I said. "Yes, Master," she muttered against the gag and slowly got up. Beef And then not just a prick pumping her lovingly shaved vagina, but a tongue that could only be Kath's licking her clitoris and a thumb slowly easing itself into her anus. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" Lin cried before Kath's tongue thrust itself into her mouth while her hand shaped itself so that it could ease into her vagina as Tone transferred his prick to Lin's arse. Lin loved sex. It was the one time that her usual world of ruthless competition and pitiless one-upmanship could be forgotten and she could surrender herself to pure unmediated ecstasy. No drug had the same effect (beyond the extent to which it enhanced the sex act). Sex was all Lin needed. Fucking. Fisting. Buggering. Sweating copiously on your partner. Not knowing and not caring who was fucking you and who you were fucking. When your back and your front was a sheen of perspiration blended with that of whoever you were fucking. And Kath and Tone were the perfect fuck partners. Unselfish. Uninhibited. Uncomplicated. And they never gave up. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. No fucking let up at all. Time passed when Lin was making love as it should be. Not measured in minutes or hours, but climaxes, orgasms and moments of absolute pleasure. Until the time came when Tone had no more spunk to give, Kath's tongue was red and raw, and Lin's cunt had lost its lubrication and was feeling sore. The three of them collapsed together on the bed, with the lamps still shining but the window open and the glimpsed view into other apartments from across the road. A car drove by slowly in the way that was only ever noticeable well after midnight. Lin looked around her. "Where's Col?" she asked. "That Schwarzenegger guy you came in with?" said Tone. "Yeah, him." "I dunno," said Kath. "He must have left after I jumped in. I'd tried to get some conversation out of him, but it was a fucking waste of time. The guy was crushed!" "I bet he was," said Tone, half-sympathetically. "It wasn't his fault he was lacking in the dick department..." "I don't fucking care," said Lin. "All I wanted was a fuck and he couldn't even do that!" "He tried his best, Lin," pleaded Kath. "I fucking expect more from a man," said Lin. "I want a man to be able to do what a man is supposed to do. What other fucking point is there? If you want a fuck, a man should be able to give you a fuck. And Col couldn't do it. His prick was a fucking joke!" "You've got high standards, Lin," said Kath. "You're fucking right I have," said Lin. "And just like when I'm at work, when I want something I fucking want it now and I want it fucking good!" Beefy Buns It's hard to get good help. Probably, that's true in any business, but it's especially difficult to find decent employees in the fast food racket. Believe me; I've tried. I manage the local Beefy Buns franchise--burgers, fries, and shakes is our mainstay, but the menu also features fish and chicken. Recently, the company added salads and tacos. I guess, before long, they'll include pizza and roast beef sandwiches, too. The district manager, Mr. Moore, says the corporate goal is to feature food from all our competitors' menus. Other than a paycheck and free meals, we don't offer employees much in the way of incentives to work for us. No life, medical, dental, or eye insurance. Few raises. Almost no opportunity for advancement. Who wouldn't want to work for us, right? So you can see why it's hard to find good help. For the most part, Beefy Buns' applicants are bottom of the barrel. Mona Lee is an exception. In every way. She's a real find. And sexy, too. She started in May, and she's become indispensable. I gave her three raises and made her the day shift manager. Most days, our schedules overlap from noon, when I come on duty, to two o'clock in the afternoon, when she leaves, mostly so I can get an eyeful of her rack and booty. Mona's built. She's tall for a girl--or for a woman, I should say--and slender--willowy--with blonde hair to her shoulders; big, blue eyes; a tiny, cute-as-a-button nose; full, sensuous lips; a delicate chin; high, full, round breasts; a concave tummy; killer legs; and an ass that gets me hard every time I see it sashaying around behind the counter--especially after I got a glimpse of her panties while she was cleaning off the top of the meat locker one afternoon last month (which is exactly what I'd hoped to see when I asked her to clean it). The sight of her on the ladder, the mini-skirt portion of her uniform showing off her smooth, shapely legs and the hot-pink thong panties that exposed as much as they concealed of her gorgeous ass is burned into my memory forever, thank God. I'm an ass man. Having chanced to see her beautiful buttocks once, I was obsessed with the desire--the need--to view them again, and I devised one ploy after another by which I might satisfy my craving to view her splendid bottom another time. "Mona," I directed her one afternoon, "take the step ladder--the tall one--outside, and wash the windows. They're filthy." She gave me an odd look. "Carlos just washed them two days ago." "He did a terrible job. They're grimy." She shrugged, but her expression showed me that she thought I was daft, for, in truth, the windows were clean enough. "I'll need help getting the ladder outdoors," she said. "It's cumbersome and heavy. Someone needs to keep the ladder steady, too, while I'm using it." I rolled my eyes, as if her comments were asinine. In a long-suffering tone, complete with a put-upon expression, I relied, "I'll assist you." Indeed, my providing just such "assistance" had been my purpose, all along, in assigning her the window-cleaning task. "But you're busy," Mona protested. "Shouldn't you assign Carlos to give me a hand?" "Carlos is better use to me in cleaning the restrooms," I answered, "unless you'd prefer to switch tasks with him." I knew she wouldn't. Everyone dislikes cleaning the toilets and urinals, but Mona, above all, detests this chore. "No, no," she demurred. "I'd rather wash the windows." "Let's get to it, then," I said. Outside, the day was unusually bright, and the sunlight sparkled on the windows, which, as Mona had reminded me, Carlos had just cleaned two days ago. He'd done an excellent job. The windows were spotless, except for the dried dribble of a pigeon's droppings. I pointed out the white trail, a disgusted tone in my voice as I told Mona, "Carlos has done his usual half-assed job." "The pigeon could have relieved itself after Carlos washed the windows," Mona observed. "'Could have' are the operative words," I replied. I wasted no more time in helping Mona to set up the stepladder. I was desperate to see her splendid ass again, and I was hoping that she was wearing a thong, as she had been the first time I'd glimpsed her derriere while she'd been cleaning the top of the meat locker. "Go on up," I told her, once the ladder was in place. "I'll hold the ladder for you." "Aren't you going up?" she asked. "I'm afraid of heights." "But I've seen you on the ladder before." "The fear came on recently." She gave me a doubtful look. "I'm wearing heels." "Okay, I'll get Carlos to swap with you. He can wash the windows, and you can finish cleaning the toilets." "No," Mona said. "I'll just take of my shoes." Why stop with the heels? I asked her silently. In a moment, she'd removed her shoes. Her feet, clad only in her stockings, looked cute and dainty. "Hold the ladder," Mona said. I gripped it. "Go ahead." I watched her as she ascended, taking one hesitant step up the rungs of the ladder after another, climbing toward the huge, blinking neon sign that shouted the name of the burger franchise, Beefy Buns, to a world of hungry human carnivores. I counted her steps: one (what pretty feet!), two (and shapely calves!), three (the hollows of her knees were sensuous depressions!), four (the backs of her flexing thighs, smooth but firm, were enticing!), five-- "Boss?" I turned to see Carlos standing in the doorway. "What is it?" I demanded, a little too sharply. "Why aren't you cleaning the restrooms?" "I finished," he explained. "Mr. Moore is here; he sent me to fetch you." "Fetch," I thought, was most likely the exact word that Mr. Moore, the bastard, had employed. The district manager was an arrogant, condescending son-of-a-bitch. I glanced up the ladder. The bottom hem of Mona's mini-skirt showed the very tops of her sleek, creamy thighs, but not yet her ass cheeks. Another step or two surely would have disclosed those smooth, alabaster orbs and, perhaps, the thin strip of satin that ran between them to connect with the waistband of her panties. "Come down," I told her, trying to keep the disappointment out of my voice. "We'll finish this later." Mr. Moore had come to check our sales figures, which weren't as impressive as either the restaurant's owners, Fern and Fernando Marcus, or the corporate chain's headquarters would like. Of course, like everything else that any of these parties perceived as being wrong with operations was concerned, it was my fault, personally, that the public seemed to be spurning the local Beefy Buns. For the thousandth time, I pointed out to Mr. Moore that the opening of a McDonald's and a Burger King within six blocks of Beefy Buns were more likely causes of the decline in our sales. "Contributing causes, perhaps," Mr. Moore said. We'd repaired to my "office," a room not much larger than a broom closet, occupied by a desk and a file cabinet. Mr. Moore sat behind my desk; I stood in the open doorway. Outside, it would be easy for the employees to hear everything that Mr. Moore or I said, which, I knew, sooner or later, would be humiliating. Mr. Moore had come to "motivate" me, and he knew only one technique--mortification. "Prior to their opening, sales were huge," I pointed out to my superior, although, I knew, a recitation of facts would serve no purpose. "And they can be again, Brad" he replied. "What are you doing to beef up sales?" He always liked to use the term "beef up" in relation to improving Beefy Buns' burger sales. In his own way, Mr. Moore had a sense of humor, albeit a sophomoric one. As he well knew, there was precious little--nothing, in fact--that I could do to promote sales. The corporation handled all promotions and advertising. I had to think of something, though; Mr. Moore was waiting for my answer. "Uh," I thought of Mona on the stepladder, a step or two away from revealing the glory of her magnificent ass to me. "I'm going to have employees stand on the sidewalk, near the street, and wave a Beefy Buns sign showing a picture of a huge, succulent Beefy Buns Beefy Burger, with fries, that reads, 'Whet your appetite.'" This was the dumbest thing I'd ever said in response to one of Mr. Moore's interrogations, and I fully expected him to lambaste me for it. At my desk, he'd tented his fingers. Now, he flexed his thumbs as he chewed over my suggestion in his mind. I waited, reminding myself not to wince when he let me have it. Instead, after a lengthy silence, he announced, "I like it!" I was astonished. "You do?" He nodded enthusiastically. "Put the skinny blonde on it," he directed. She's not "skinny," I wanted to tell him; she's "willowy." "You got it," I said. For once, the bastard hadn't chastised me before my employees. Nevertheless, when he navigated his bulk out of my office and through the exit, crossed the parking lot, and lowered himself into his Lexus, no doubt putting a tremendous strain on its shock absorbers, I was glad to see him go. I went to the counter, where Mona had assumed her station at the cash register again and was waiting on customers. I asked Sandra Smith, a pimply-face redhead with way too many freckles and unintentionally comical, oversize spectacles with thick lenses, to spell Mona. "Come with me," I told the latter. "Back to the ladder?" she asked. "Yes." I had no intention of putting Mona--or anyone else--to work in the manner I'd suggested to Mr. Moore. I was shorthanded already, and there was no way I was going to station an employee--and especially not one as good looking and sexy as Mona--on the sidewalk when he or she could be better employed in the kitchen. As we were on our way out of the restaurant, I received a call on my cell phone. It was Mr. Moore, with a parting shot. "Get somebody to clean up the parking lot," he commanded. "It's littered with Beefy Buns wrappers!" "Yes, sir," I replied, adding, in my mind, bastard! The ladder was still in place, right where we'd left it. "Go on up," I told Mona. "I'll hold the ladder." She kicked off her shoes again. "Make sure you do," she said. "I don't want to fall." "You're not going to fall," I assured her. In my mind, though, I saw her do just that, and, gallantly, I caught her in my arms and set her safely on the ground. My reward was a kiss of her soft, smooth lips. She ascended the ladder again, displaying more and more of her shapely legs as she climbed higher and higher, her mini-skirt threatening to betray her with every step she took. My cell phone chimed. I'd ignore it, I thought. The phone was insistent. What if were Mr. Moore again? I asked myself. He'd be pissed if I didn't answer. Hell, he might even return to the restaurant. I removed the phone from my pocket and glanced at the number on its illuminated display. It was Mr. Moore, all right. "Hello?" "What are you doing with that damned ladder?" he thundered in my ear. Obviously, upon leaving the parking lot, he'd parked somewhere nearby and was spying on me, the bastard! "I thought I told you to get that parking lot cleaned up! And why isn't the girl on the sidewalk with the sign?" "I thought we'd better finish the windows before--" "I can see why your location's in trouble, Brad," Mr. Moore cut in. "You don't know how to set priorities--and you don't follow instructions. Besides, those windows are already clean. It looks as if someone washed them only a day or two ago." The son-of-a-bitch was detail-oriented and observant; I had to give him that. "Yes, sir," I told him. I'd better do as he said, I thought. After all, he was my boss and, obviously, he was watching me. "Come down," I called up the ladder, reluctantly, as I saw how perilously close the bottom hem of Mona's mini-skirt had come, a second time, to revealing her splendid ass. "Again?" she complained. "Mr. Moore just called. He wants us to pick up the litter in the parking lot and to do something else." She descended the ladder and donned her heels again, looking lovelier than ever. She was obviously glad to have her dainty feet back on terra firma. "What else does he want us to do, besides picking up the litter?" she asked. I told her. "No," she said. "I won't do it." "Yes, you will." "No, I won't," Mona insisted, "not even if it costs me my job." "It might," I warned her. "Mr. Moore's parked somewhere nearby, and he's watching us." She gave me a look that suggested I'd gone insane. "What?" I repeated myself. "He's watching, and he expects to see you waving a sign on the street corner, advertising Beefy Buns' Beefy Burger." "I'm not a whore," she declared, her eyes flashing, "and I'm not standing on any street corner." "No one said you're a whore," I protested. "I'm not doing it," she said, determination, like steel, in her refusal. "But Mr. Moore's watching." "He's not the only one who's been watching me, is he?" she asked frostily. "What do you mean?" "You think I'm blind as well as blonde?" she demanded. "I've seen you ogling me, staring at my tits and ass." In any other context, her use of such words would have been exciting. Somehow, as we stood in the littered parking lot, next to the step ladder positioned along the back wall of Beefy Buns, Mr. Moore maybe still watching us from a distance, these terms--and the implicit charge of sexual harassment behind them--made me nervous. Sexual harassment? Was that really where she was going with this? I wondered. "What do you mean?" I managed to blurt, affecting innocence. I even managed to sound confused and wounded, as if the thought of looking at her breasts and buttocks had never crossed my mind. "You don't think I know why you had me clean the top of the meat locker?" she demanded. "You think I'm too dumb to know why you wanted me to clean the same windows Carlos just cleaned two days ago? You think I'm unaware of your studying my ass from behind your desk as I wait on customers behind the counter?" "I don't know what you mean," I told her. "Then, let me make it clear for you," she said. "You're a voyeur." "I'm nothing of the kind! That's the most preposterous--" "You've subjected me to sexual harassment since I started working her," Mona contended, "and it stops here and now." "I've never--" "I have witnesses who will collaborate my allegations." "Witnesses? Who?" "You'll know their identities soon enough, if I have to go to court to get you to treat me like a human being instead of a piece of meat." "Court?" I cried. "There's no need to go to court. Mona, really--" "And I'm not walking the street with a Burger Buns sign." The district manager might still be parked nearby, waiting to see Mona with the sign, I thought. On the other hand, he might have continued his journey by now. He might be well on his way to humiliating the manager of the next Beefy Buns on his route. "But what will I tell Mr. Moore?" "Tell him I may have to work cheap, but I'm not a two-bit whore." Thankfully, I never received another call from him. He must have been content to resume his rounds after telling me how to run my restaurant. Later, a few minutes before my shift ended, Mona appeared in my office doorway. "I need some help in the meat locker," she informed me, her voice as frosty as the interior of the freezer to which she'd just alluded. Her gaze was cold, too. If I wasn't careful, she'd be running the place, I thought, and I'd be taking orders from her. "What's wrong?" I asked brusquely. "Nothing's wrong," she assured me. "I just need a hand." "Can't Carlos or Sandra or someone else--?" "No. I need you." I sighed. "All right." Standing, I left my office, crossed the kitchen, and made my way, behind Mona, to the meat locker, making a concerted effort not to watch her swaying bottom. What had prompted this impromptu meeting? I wondered. Had Mona decided to charge me with sexual harassment, after all? Mona opened the heavy metal door, and I followed her into the meat locker. The term, in our case, was a bit of a misnomer, for the walk-in freezer didn't contain hanging sides of beef or other openly displayed frozen animal carcasses. There was plenty of raw hamburger, pre-packaged chicken, and frozen fish, all conveniently sliced and diced in advance, of course, but, like the frozen French fries, the meat was packaged inside pristine white containers--cardboard boxes, plastic tubs, and cartons, and these items were neatly stacked on rows of sturdy metal shelves. Despite the aromatic scents that permeated the kitchen, the meat locker displayed little evidence that this was a place dedicated to the wholesale serving of slaughtered animals. "I don't really need help," Mona told me. Her nipples were rigid from the cold, and stood out beneath the thin fabric of her Beefy Buns blouse. After noticing them, I averted my eyes. I didn't need to give her any more evidence of my "sexual harassment" of her. "Then why are we here?" "I wanted to show you something," she said. We'd walked to the rear of the meat locker, stepping behind the end of one of the rows of package-laden shelves. She'd stood aside so that I could precede her, and, now, I realized, she quite literally had my back to the wall. "What?" I asked, a little nervously. She slid the zipper at the side of her mini-skirt down, in one, fluid motion. Grasping the sides of the garment's elastic waistband, she tugged the skirt down her hips, revealing the lavender silk of her panties. "Mona!" I cried. "What the hell are you doing?" She chuckled at my protest. "Don't sound so outraged. You've been wanting to see me naked for months now, ever since the day you first laid eyes on me." She lowered her panties, and my eyes widened. I stared at her groin, my mouth gaping. "What the hell?" In place of the cleft of the female sex I expected to see, Mona had revealed a small, circumcised cock, which dangled before a pair of balls high inside the tight pouch of their scrotum. The cold temperature of the meat locker, no doubt, had caused her genitals to contract, just as my own organs had done, but there was no mistaking their masculinity, their virility: Mona, despite appearances to the contrary, wasn't a she; she was a he--or a he-she, I guess--a shemale. She grinned at me as my eyes traveled back and forth between her firm, high, round breasts and their stiff-standing nipples and the cute cock and balls dangling, like ornaments, below her downy pubes. Cute? Had I characterized her genitals as cute? How the hell could I think a cock and a pair of balls could be "cute"? What was I, a faggot? "Are you still interested in me?" Mona asked. "Are you still as anxious to see me naked, now that you know my little secret?" It's not that little, I wanted to tell her, but I remained silent, not knowing, really, what to say. My mind raced, as I tried to figure out her purpose. She'd accused me of sexually harassing her; yet, here she stood, exposing herself to me. Was she gathering ammunition for a lawsuit? Would she say I'd been the one to pull her skirt and panties down in the meat locker, claiming, maybe, that I'd attempted to rape her? Was she merely turning the tables on me, playing the predator instead of the prey, to give me a taste, as it were, of my own medicine? Or had she set me up as someone who'd harassed her sexually so she could harass me the same way, with impunity? If I said anything about this incident, she could deny it ever happened--or say I'd assaulted her--but if, on the other hand, I didn't object, she'd have seduced me and gained a companion, a sex partner, a boyfriend, or whatever it was she might be seeking. Pirouetting, she showed me the loveliness of her creamy, smooth backside. In my imagination, I held her full, round buttocks in my hands, squeezed the smooth-soft cushions of her ass-cheeks in my flexing fingers, making deep indentations in her tanned flesh, and parted the mounds to examine the tight, puckered anus hidden within the deep cleavage between those glorious orbs. Despite the cold temperature, my cock twitched, stiffening and swelling inside the trousers of my Beefy Buns uniform. "Well, what about it?" she prompted me. "Do you like what you see?" Beefy Loving My name is Amy and I am twenty years old. I still live at home with my parents and they don't seem to mind. I guess I like to be close to my Daddy. He has always looked after me and I just can't break away from him. I haven't really had any boyfriends. My problem is that I am a bit overweight. It sort of runs in the family. My Dad and Mom both are stocky people. I have been fantasizing lately about my Dad. Or at least I want a man just like him. I started something to attract my Dad's eye. After I take my shower I will dry off and walk from the bathroom to my bedroom naked. I know my Dad has caught me doing this. Up until know he never acted on anything. I decided to be a bit more brazen. After my shower I would go back to my bedroom but leave my door open as I was dressing. Mom had already left for work one morning. I was standing in my room when my Dad walked by. He stopped and looked in on me. I turned and let him take in my chubby body. There was this single moment. I hoped he would walk into my room. Daddy looked me over and then stepped across the threshold and into my room. I wanted him so much right then. I was horny after showering. I didn't have long to wait. "You have been tempting me, haven't you Amy?" I just smiled as my Dad's eyes went to my breasts. They tended to sag a bit and rest on my chest. Dad walked right up to me and pulled me into his body. I put my arms around his neck and we finally kissed for the first time. Daddy's body felt so powerful as he held me tight. We managed to work our way over to my bed. Daddy pushed me onto my back. I watched as he stripped off his shirt and then his pants and underwear came off. I was looking at a fat, thick sausage of a cock. There was a thick thatch of pubic hair surrounding his dick. My Dad wasn't into touchy feely sex. He climbed right above my mouth. His cock was dangling in front of my lips. "Open your mouth for me Amy," he told me. I did as he asked. Dad slid his fat prick past my lips and I began to make him hard with my mouth. To be honest, I was gagging most of the time. He was too big for me to take the whole way down. I think Daddy had just lost all of his self control. He wanted me and I wanted him. I did manage to get his cock all slicked up and erect. Daddy pulled his prick from my mouth. He took hold of my ankles and spread me as wide as was possible. I felt Daddy's mushroom push past my wet folds. I had only been with two other guys before this. My Dad was so much bigger than them. Dad didn't waste any time. He forced his cock all the way inside my tight pussy. I know I screamed as that fat prick stretched me out. Daddy knew one speed...fast. He rammed me as hard as he could. God, I never felt anything like that, before or since. My Dad's balls were hanging down and as he entered me they hit my bottom. You could hear the slapping noise. It almost sounded like a crack of a whip against my skin. I loved the way my Dad was fucking me. I wanted to be used by him and I guess that is the way he normally had sex. After some minutes of being fucked, my Dad scooped me up and we flipped over. Daddy was now on his back and I was on top of him. Dad's beefy hands found my tits and he began to squeeze them hard. There is something about feeling a man's hands on my big tits that sends chills up and down my spine. I was sliding down onto Daddy's thick monster as he brought his body up to meet me. There was lots of grunting and moaning as we got into some steamy fucking. "You're all mine now Amy, I'm going to fuck you whenever I want," my Dad told me. That is just how I wanted things. I wanted to be Daddy's girl. I guess all that friction finally got to my Dad. He let out this groan as if he had been wounded. I then felt his steamy cum rushing into my body. I know, we should have been fucking with some sort of protection. It just felt too good this way. Daddy later said he hadn't cum in almost a week. He had a big load stored up and he gave me every drop of his seed that morning. I knew that Daddy's baby seed was dripping out of my pussy and onto his cock. I just held on as my Dad pumped his rod into me and finished me off. When Daddy finally stopped fucking me I collapsed onto his chest. We were both panting as we tried to recover from what just happened. I know that both of us were spent after our sex session. We got cleaned up before my Mom got home. From that time on, my Dad would try and have me as much as possible. Whenever my Mom was away from the house we were in bed together. It was difficult at times. We sometimes ended up getting a cheap motel room in order to fuck. There are a few motels that litter the interstate. Dad and I would get a room for a few hours and Dad would give me his fat cock. It seems that I can't get enough of my Daddy fucking me. I think I must have worn him out at times. One thing hasn't changed. Daddy has been taking me with his bare cock from day one. You might have guessed I wasn't on the pill that first time we fucked. I know one day Daddy will impregnate me. I guess we will cross that bridge when we cum to it. Until then, I only need one lover and that is my Dad.