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Welcome to Rolennia Ch. 01

By: DrSqueaky



"You really should look into this--it's a great opportunity," Jack said emphatically on the other end of the line. "Systems International is a real up-and-coming company. Even if you don't take the job, at least go and interview. You'll get a free trip to Europe out of it. Think about it."

"OK, I will. Thanks for calling." I terminated the call, standing and staring at the screen with some disbelief--much to the annoyance of those trying to get past me on the sidewalk. Why had Jack Freeman called me? I barely knew him. Oh we ran into each other at conferences, and we had had a beer or two, but it wasn't like we kept in regular contact otherwise. Now he was calling me on a Wednesday afternoon to offer me a job interview in some country I hadn't even heard of. What was that name again? Rolennia? I'd never heard of it. 

I took a seat in coffee shop just to get off the sidewalk and searched the net on my phone to see what I could find out about the place. Turns out Rolennia was once a Barony in the Austria-Hungarian Empire. Later it was absorbed behind the Iron Curtain, and it only recently had emerged as an independent state. It was nestled somewhere among the Hungaries, Czechs and Bulgarias of the world, I couldn't exactly tell because the lettering was too small when viewed on my phone, but it didn't matter since I had only a vague idea where any of those places were anyway. 

So why would anyone want to take a job in Rolennia? True, I was looking for a new opportunity, and had made that known through my contact network. I was in a classic Midlife Crisis situation, with a divorce was about to go final and feeling stifled in my job. With both kids away at college, I was free to go anywhere and pursue anything. That sounds great until you're actually in that situation, which is when you realize that it's really scary that there aren't ANY parameters to help you decide what you should do with your life. The thought of trying my hand at living overseas had intrigued me, but I was thinking in terms of Paris or Tokyo, not some backwater burg like Rolennia. 

Just as I was closing the browser and getting ready to put my phone away, something caught my eye. I re-opened the browser to make sure I had read it right. There was a list at the bottom of the wiki entry of famous people from Rolennia, of which there were a whole seven. Three were historical figures I had never heard of, one was a politician I had never heard of—and three were porn stars that I definitely had heard of. Most notably, one of them was Sophie Sunshine. It was all but impossible to surf for porn without running across her. She was one of the best-known, most popular porn stars in the business. I knew that the states of the old Eastern bloc were a prime provider of talent for the sex industry; apparently Rolennia was no exception. I wondered how common it was to find girls as stunning as Sophie Sunshine in Rolennia. Hmmm. Maybe I should at least listen to their pitch.

I put my phone away and thought no more of it for the next day and a half. That Thursday was particularly stressful, and a call from my divorce lawyer explaining new wrinkles in the settlement didn't help. When I woke up on Friday morning, I saw that I had missed three calls from an unknown caller. What stood out to me was that there seemed to be an awful lot of digits in the callback number. I remembered my conversation with Jack, and realized this might be Rolennia calling. I wasn't sure if I wanted to it or not. 

I had just stepped out of the shower and was half-done drying myself when my phone vibrated on the countertop. I picked it up and saw the same number again. I thought for a second, and then took the call. Why not listen to what he had to say? I could always say no. I expected I would, frankly, but by taking his call now I wouldn't risk him calling me while I was at work. "Hello?" I said.

I expected to hear a voice with an accent. I didn't expect it would be a Bronx accent. "Mr. Summers? This is Tom Thurman of Systems International. I hope I didn't wake you?" 

"No, I was already up." 

"Good. Listen, international calls from Rolennia are expensive so I'm going to keep this brief. You come highly recommended by Jack Freeman. We have an opening that might interest you, and I understand that you might be at a place in your life where you are looking for a new adventure. SI certainly offers that, and a lot more. But rather than take my word for it, we want to you fly you Rolennia and see for yourself. Maybe you have heard of us and maybe you haven't, but once you see the facilities I think you'll be very interested. I know, not that long ago I was where you are today, getting a strange call from a strange country. Now I'm here, and I couldn't be happier."

Good for him... so what?  I thought. 

"We would like to fly you out on a Thursday, have you interview on Friday, see a little bit of the country on Saturday, and then fly back Sunday—all at our expense of course. If you don't like what you hear, you still get a free vacation out of it. What do you say?"

That is exactly what I was thinking—a free vacation. Other than jet lag, what did I have to lose? "Well..." I started to say

---------------

Two weeks later, I landed in Yevczich, the capital city of Rolennia. Only city, from what I'd been reading. I was exhausted--I hadn't thought about the fact that by flying out on Thursday, it would be Friday in Europe when I arrived, especially after a three-hour layover in Frankfurt. Fortunately I had slept a little on the plane. 

The airport was a tiny, Spartan concrete corridor with only six gates. When I stepped out of the secure area, a man with a long red beard dressed in a livery uniform was standing there, holding up a sign with my name on it. I found that interesting; I really think there are two kinds of men in the world, those that love redheads and those that don't, and I was without question one of the former. Since I was sure he wouldn't have dyed his beard that color, that mean that there were redheads indigenous to this area, something I wouldn't have expected but was pleased to know.

My driver led me to an ancient but well-maintained limousine to drive me the headquarters of Systems International. At first, every building we passed was a drab, concrete, often windowless block built during the Communist period. But then we reached a bridge over a small river and entered the old town, which was cute and quaint as any Austrian ski town. There were half-timbered houses and commercial buildings with the domed roofs popular in prewar Hapsburg architecture. I was pleasantly surprised at the charm--and its generally good condition. "Your old city is very nice," I said with surprise.

"Yes," the driver said haltingly, "Yevczich small. War... pass us by. No bombing." That made sense--Rolennia hadn't been important or big enough for a big battle, so it had been mostly spared. 

The sudden widening of the road signaled the transition to the newer part of Yevczich. Nestled into the foothills of the mountains that dominated the eastern skyline of the city were a handful of new, glass-and-steel office buildings. They weren't exactly what I would call skyscrapers, but they were easily the tallest and most modern buildings in the valley. 

My limo pulled up to the biggest building on the hill. There was a parking lot nestled between it and another, slightly smaller building, the last building before the beginning of the mountains. Tom Thurman came out of the glass doors to greet me personally. "You must be Martin Summers. Nice to meet you, and welcome to Rolennia!"

"Thank you," I said. He gestured me toward the building and I started walking.

"Do you like our building? Just finished three years ago. Completely modern... wireless throughout... anything you would have back in America we have here..." he opened the door for me as he explained. I stopped short when I entered. Standing in a row by the entryway, like three backup singers in a band, were three of most beautiful young women I had seen in a long time. All three of them were dressed in short-skirted business suits with matching pumps, worn with white blouses and hosiery. The first girl had brown hair with blonde highlights and wore a purple suit. The second had long blonde hair like a California girl and similar complexion; her suit was red. And the third had long, wavy red hair and a royal blue suit. My eyes swept over the vision of their combined loveliness, but naturally lingered on the stunning redhead on the right. Wow, was she beautiful! "Oh, yes... if you would come to work with us, we would of course provide you with a personal secretary. These are three of the girls that might be available for the job; there are others as well. This is Kara..." the brunette nodded her head in acknowledgement, "Sasha, and Simma." The blonde and redhead followed suit. "Thank you ladies," Tom dismissed. 

"Nice to meet you," the muttered almost in unison as they turned on their heels and disappeared down a hall. I watched their young, shapely legs retreating with appreciation. 

Tom noticed where I was looking. "Nice huh? We have some pret-ty hot girls that work for this company, I'll say that right now. Which one did you like the best?" 

"Huh?" I asked. Coming from an excessively gender-sensitive office, it had already sounded strange to my ears to hear him call them girls. Now he wanted me to come out and say which one I found most attractive?

Tom laughed. "This is Rolennia, Martin. There is no such thing as sexual harassment here. Here a guy can really be a guy! Come on, you know one of them caught your eye more than the others... which one was is? Sasha, for instance, is my kind of girl."

Since he had imparted his preference, it felt safer to admit my own. "She was pretty, but I'm partial to redheads," I answered cautiously. 

"Ah, there you go," he encouraged slyly. "Simma Dubrovnik. She is one sharp looker, huh?" I just nodded, feeling this conversation with a potential employer to be very, very odd. 

Tom started the interview with a tour of the building. I must say, I don't know what I was expecting but this facility could easily have been in Dallas, or Chicago, or anywhere. Rolennia as a whole might not have a strong economy, but Systems International didn't seem to be short of cash. After an hour-long tour, we settled in Tom's office and he told me the details. I noticed as I passed that his secretary Jelena bore more than a passing resemblance to Sasha. He closed the door and told me more about the job, and the expectations seemed quite in line with my experience and expertise. But I was waiting to hear about the money. In order for me to move halfway around the world, I would need quite a financial incentive. "So what is the salary?" I finally had a chance to ask.

"150,000" he said flatly.

"Euro?" I asked excitedly. I didn't know the exact exchange rate, but that was more than double what I was making. 

"No, florint," he said, trying to downplay it. "Rolennia's economy isn't strong enough to be part of the EU just yet."

"Oh," I said cautiously, "and what is a florint worth in US dollars?"

"About 50 cents," he admitted. What? That was maybe the same as I was getting now--why would I move to the middle of nowhere for no pay raise at all? Why did they waste my time flying me out here? I suddenly became very angry.

"Now I know that might not sound like much," he admitted defensively, "but you need to put it in perspective. Taxes here are one-fourth what you would pay in the states." 

"Yeah?" I agreed, not caring.

"And working for Systems International isn't so much about the money as about the benefits package."

"And what benefits are those?" I asked, unimpressed. 

He gestured to the window behind him. "See that building behind me? That's the executive residence. All SI executives live there, in condos that start at 2400 square feet, all at company expense. And it is full service living--food and drink delivered at nominal expense--I mean like five bucks for a liter of vodka. If you're like most people, you're probably spending 90% of your salary on food and shelter now. Here most of that is included as an employee benefit--your salary is practically a bonus."

"OK," I agreed. That certainly was a benefit worth something, but what good was it to me if I couldn't cash it in? Not only that, but it seemed like it might make me a slave to the company. I didn't want the company knowing if I watched Internet porn. Or if I brought a girl home... although that possibility seemed to be pretty much just wishful thinking.

"And there is one more benefit you won't get in the States... it's the best benefit the company offers, but I don't think I can explain it very well. You'll have to experience it for yourself. Let me take you to your room; you will be staying in the executive residence, in the very room that will be yours if you are to join us. Fully furnished of course. And your bags have already been delivered. Take the afternoon to relax, get over your jet lag. I will be back at 6:00 to pick you up, and we will have dinner with the company president, Milan Jumarek. OK?"

I nodded grumpily and let him walk me across the parking lot. What the hell was I supposed to trapped in an apartment all afternoon? It didn't matter, right now I was feeling deceived and just wanted to get away from Mr. Tom Thurman. He walked me across the parking lot, took me up to the fourth floor, and handed me a swipe card to room 403. "I will see you at six. In the meantime... be sure to enjoy your afternoon.

I had no idea what his inflection on the word "enjoy" was supposed to mean, but I was in no mood to ask. I swiped the key card gruffly and barged into the room. I took one step through the door... and then froze, stunned by an unexpected sight. The room was pretty much what I expected based on the offices across the way--leather couch, sparse modern Scandinavian furniture, big-screen TV. What I wasn't expecting was to find Simma Dubrovnik lounging on the couch, legs crossed, bouncing her high-heeled foot absently, sipping a glass of champagne. I stared at her as if there was a flying saucer in my room. And there was something else that was different about her. It took me a second to pinpoint; while she was wearing the same royal blue suit as before, it seemed she was no longer wearing a blouse under her jacket. All I could say for certain was that there was an impressive amount of tantalizing cleavage on display. 

"I'm sorry, Mr. Thurman must have shown me to the wrong room..." I sputtered.

With relaxed confidence, Simma put her glass down on the coffee table and stood up. "Is no wrong room, Mr. Summers. Is your apartment--if you take job. Would you like I show you round?" 

"Ah. Are you are my concierge, Simma?" 

"Oh no, Mr. Summers. I am to be secretary for you. I am honor that you haf choose me." I thought about Tom pressing me on which of the three "backup singers" I had preferred; I didn't know that I was picking my potential future secretary out of a lineup. I mean, it was great that I might get a hot redhead, but was she any good in the office? Didn't that matter to anyone? I wondered what other secrets there might be to this place as Simma continued "I am here to provide to you any assistance you desire." 

There it was again; there was something funny about her inflection of the word "any," like Tom's use of the word "enjoy." Everyone seemed to be hinting at something, only I had no idea what it was. "No thank you, I can look around by myself."

"But of course," she shrugged evenly. "I get you somesing else? You like drink maybe? A bath, to relax after long flight? Even better, maybe you like nice blowjob?" 

What? Did I hear her say what I thought I heard her say? Simma just stood there, a servant at the ready, as if it was absolutely normal that she had apparently just offered to suck my dick. At least I thought that is what she said. Maybe I misunderstood her accent. "Excuse me?" I asked.

Simma gave a hint of a smile and stepped over towards me, gliding expertly across the room in her impossibly sexy heels. "Velcome to Rolennia, Mr. Summers. Maybe Mr. Thurman tell you System International haf very good benefit? I am one of those benefit, Mr. Summers. In Rolennia secretary is 24 hour job. I provide any service you desire, day or night. And not just in office. You want I clean apartment after work? I clean. You want I clean naked? I take off clothes. You want have sex? Just tell Simma how you like. When finish you can send me away, I have room downstair. Or if you want I stay night, I can do too." 

Simma now stood patiently, three feet away and facing me. Her hands were clasped gently behind her back, which caused her blazer to try to pull open; the single closed button strained to hold it closed. Even more cleavage was now on display, and the bare strip of skin I could now see at her belly confirmed she was wearing no blouse. I couldn't believe what I was hearing--or seeing. 

"What is this, some kind of test?" I snapped. I couldn't believe that the secretary's body was part of the company's benefit package. Things didn't work that way in America. 

"No test, Mr. Summers," she protested. "Company want you understand what is like work here. Personal secretary is very important to executive." As she talked she turned and retreated three steps to the leather chair nearest to her. Even with her back turned I could see she had smoothly unbuttoned the one button, like a stripper might show and not show at the same time. She whirled around towards me like a dancer when she reached the chair holding her jacket open by the lapels. Holy fucking shit. Her breasts stood out in firm defiance of gravity, her belly was flat and toned, her waist narrow and her hips wide. She dropped the lapels and pulled up her skirt, revealing that the hose she wore were, in fact, thigh-highs, and she wore no underwear whatsoever. She sat in the chair, tossed one leg over the arm, splayed the other out to the side, and without hesitation began to stroke a clean-shaven pussy with her hands. All I could do was watch as she masturbated, taking pauses to tug gently at her nether lips, exciting them so that they would open more easily. She was trying to show me a wide-open beaver shot... like a porn star. I sprung an erection the likes of which I hadn't felt for years.

I forced myself to look away from the spectacle, for the sight of her young thighs and eager pussy were drawing me in like a moth to a flame. Much as I would have loved to stuff that little slit, this whole scene just felt WAAAYYYY wrong--like a setup in fact. "Please don't. I don't know what the story is, if you're trying to set me up or they're holding your family hostage unless you become my sex slave, but I want no part of it." Of course I was lying. I desperately wanted part of it--I just knew I shouldn't. 

I sensed Simma stand up and restraighten her skirt. I stood there, looking blankly at the lefthand wall. I wasn't really focusing on anything, which is why I didn't realize that there was a small bar there until Simma walked past me and behind it. She put a glass up on the counter and then bent over for something behind the bar--an amazing show given that she had not rebuttoned her jacket. She came up again with some ice which she threw into the glass and proceed to pour herself a gin and tonic. I stood there, not sure what to say or do, waiting for her to make the next move. The tension just built as the silence continued. 

Simma took a heady sip from the cocktail, then her eyes narrowed and she looked at me seriously. "This is Rolennia, Mr. Summers. Is not land of opportunity like America. Good job is hard find, especially for woman, and is much competition. What do they offer you, Mr. Summers? 125? 150?" I was surprised her guess was so accurate; I just nodded. "Secretary make 75,000 florint. That a LOT of money in Rolennia. You know what average worker make?" I shook my head. "1200 florint. For year. You know what I get pay now?" I shook my head again. "1000 florint--plus a small room. Because I am not secretary, I am only in pool of possible secretary. If you pick, I make 75 time more money. I make more in one year than most Rolennian family make in lifetime. I VANT zis job, Mr. Summers. I want more than you want, I think. I do almost anything to get. But I have not control--you choose to take job or no, you choose me secretary or no, all I do is hope. That is way of things in Rolennia."


Welcome to Rolennia Ch. 01



I finally looked her in the eye; she returned the gaze with businesslike demeanor. "Simma... I don't get it. You're obviously a bright woman... you speak English very well! Surely there are other opportunities for someone like you to get ahead that don't require you to sleep with your boss!"

"Mr. Summers... you know of Sophie Sunshine?" I nodded with some surprise. "Her real name is Anjestina. Not far from here. One of biggest porn star in world, yes?" I nodded again. "They say last year she make 300 movie. You know how much money she make?" I shook my head. "My cousin is accountant. He say she make 70,000 florint last year. Yes, she get to travel and such, but she make less than secretary at SI." She paused and then added "And rumor now is she have HIV." 

My jaw almost dropped... wow, that was big news. I certainly hoped it wasn't true--I LOVED to watch Sophie taking a big black dick up the ass. Which, of course, made it very like to BE true. 

"There was another girl in village where I live... name is not important. She go to Middle East, thinking to work as housekeeper. The find her dead--she had been force work as prostitute and customer kill her. And that was for just 30,000 florint!" 

"Wow," was all I could say. 

"So Mr. Summers," she continued, walking back around to the outside of the bar, "I want job. Job very good I think-- pay is good, and I not get infection or end up dead. Yes, I have sex with boss... in Rolennia, sex with boss is part of every good pay job for woman." She now walked right up to me, and started running her long, painted fingernails along my chest through the sateen of my fitted shirt. "And for you, Mr. Summers," she now purred seductively, "is even better deal. You get sex with secretary... like me... any time you like... any way you like... You not get benefit like this in America, I think..." And before I could answer, she pressed her red-glossed lips against mine.

I didn't know how to respond at first. It's weird enough to kiss someone you've literally JUST met. Add to that the fact that I had been in this strange country for less than 24 hours and I hadn't been had a romantic kiss from anyone but my soon-to-be ex-wife in years. While there wasn't the comfort and familiarity of kissing someone you are in a relationship with, neither was it fake or forced. It felt, rather, like an invitation to further exploration. There was no question that her motives were purely financial--but that didn't mean her actions were insincere. Fact was, it felt like she was trying to seduce me--why wouldn't she, since it seemed I was the only way she could get to the goal she was after? Twisted though it might be, her desire to please me was real, and that was communicated more strongly in her kiss than any words could have said. 

I hadn't had sex in months, hadn't had good sex in much longer, and hadn't had sex with a girl as hot as Simma, well, ever. Now she was kissing me, trying to get me to respond to her, and Lord knows my erection already had. Responding to Simma didn't mean I was accepting the job, I told myself... although we both knew it would influence the likelihood, that's why she was doing it. But being acutely aware that I would never have a girl this hot try to seduce me this hard ever again, I decided I may as well take what was being offered. So I started to kiss her back more actively, and she responded in kind. The intensity of her attention built to the critical point where my excitement exceeded my reservations, and the result was like a dam bursting. I suddenly wrapped my arms around her, holding her close, and kissing her with passion. 

Simma had a smile on her face when we came up for air. "Is off to good start. I know many secretary sleep with boss every night for two, three year, and never once get kiss. I like." I found that hard to imagine. She kissed me again. Moments later, I felt a hand gently stroking the front of my pants. She had no problem finding the hidden salami and stroked it deftly. By now it was dying to come out.

Simma broke off the kiss and took a half-step back. The look on her face was not exactly a smile, it was more of a look of confidence. If nothing else she knew how the next chapter of this story was going to play out. I started to wonder just how many times she may have been in exactly this same situation, and with how many men... should I be worried about diseases? But she distracted me by elegantly sliding her blazer from her shoulders and letting it fall to the ground. She stood before me for a moment, unashamed, confident that she looked great--and boy did she ever. Her red hair glowed, her shoulders were slender but not bony. Her breasts stood proud, and her torso was lean and perfect. She every bit the killer body that Sophie Sunshine did, only with the bonus of red hair instead of blonde. 

Perhaps noticing that my eyes were enjoying but not my hands, Simma slowly reached for my left hand. I let her pick up my hand and draw it towards her. She gently curled down my two smaller fingers, then inserted my index and middle fingers into her mouth and began to caress them with her tongue like she was sucking a dick. And that was exactly what my dick was thinking, because I involuntarily curled my hips forward slightly in response. She smiled, getting just the reaction she was hoping for, then carefully guided my hand to her chest and placed it on her breast. 

My fingers responded instantly to the touch of her pointy nipple. Without thinking about it, my second hand reflexively joined the first. Like a Pavlovian dog my hands could not help but respond to the touch of her breasts but by stroking, kneading, and tweaking the wonderful flesh with my fingers. What really stuck with me, though, was Simma's face--she kept watching me evenly, not flinching, as I played with her tits. She wasn't necessarily enjoying it, but she clearly consented to allowing me to enjoy her. 

I bent forward slightly--I just had to taste those pointy nipples. Big as erasers they were, and in my mouth they felt the perfect blend of tenderly soft yet substantial. I sucked on her lovely tit, holding it lightly between my teeth, not quite biting but squeezing. She seemed to thrust her chest out slightly so that I could reach them more easily. I peeked up at her as I suckled her tits. She was still watching me placidly; I guess it was too much to ask for her to be turned on. I grabbed both of her nipples between my thumbs and forefingers, giving them each a firm but not painful pull-and-twist. As I did, I leaned forward to kiss her again. She responded, and then as I pulled away to suck her nips again, she teased me by running her tongue along my lips. This girl knew every trick to turning a guy on, and was leaving nothing in the bag. 

Squeezing her breasts once again, I felt a tug at my waist. Quick as a flash my belt was open, my pants undone and... aaahhhh... her soft, warm hands found my penis. She held her hands together, flat almost like she was praying, only with my penis sandwiched between them. She ran her hands up and down my shaft, stroking me. "Mmmhhh" I couldn't help but sigh, closing my eyes for a moment. 

"You like?" she teased, growing in boldness as she sensed her control of the situation. "I can do lots of thing you will like, Mr. Summers." 

"Martin." I corrected.

"Martin?" she asked, still stroking me.

"Yes. Martin Summers. If you're going to be touching me like that, I want you to call me Martin and not Mr. Summers." 

"OK... Martin," she agreed with slight bemusement. I wondered what it was like, being a woman and having a man's penis in your hand, able to see in his face that he would do just about anything to continue to experience that pleasure. Scratch that--I didn't care. She had promised to do anything I wanted--well, she was going to have to pay that piper pretty damn soon.

Simma seemed to instinctively know just the right time to up the ante. She let go of my junk, reached to her side, quickly unzipped her skirt and let it fall to the floor. She kicked it aside a little ways with her heel, now wearing only heels, thigh-highs and a thin necklace. Then without hesitation she got down on her knees before me. She pulled my pants down to my ankles; I tried to step out of them but they got caught on my shoes. Fortunately she could pull my shoes off without untying them, and so with only a minute or two delay I was pantless. She lifted my shirt so that wasn't in the way, and then without hesitation she opened her mouth, made an O-shape with her lips, and started to suck my dick. 

I watched in amazement as my dick slipped in and out of the beautiful face with the lovely read hair. Holy shit, when Simma sucked she meant business, and by business I mean she was trying to coax the spunk from my balls. No token gesture, no measured foreplay--right from the get go she was sucking for maximum efficiency. Her tongue worked my tip, paying careful attention to the sensitive underside. Her lips squeezed and excited my shaft as she worked her way up and down its length. "Goddamn that feels good!" I exclaimed. Simma didn't even look up from her work; I think she already knew that she gave GREAT head. 

Simma slowed her pace. Looking down, saw now that she was trying to deep-throat me. She was looking up, watching my reaction as she tried to swallow me whole. She had my balls cupped in her left hand, and every time she forced my choad into her throat she waggled her tongue, reaching. It looked like she was trying to get to the point that she could lick my balls while my dick was down her throat. And while that would have been an impressive feat that would have looked great on video, this wasn't porn, and it had felt better when she'd been going faster and concentrating on the part she could swallow more easily. 

I pulled my dick back, held her head gently with my hands, and face-fucked her for a few thrusts. "I liked it better the other way," I grunted. I sensed possible relief as she reverted to her original style. Goddamn that felt good... it would't take much of this before I'd be blasting a load down her throat. I watched her suck... but maybe the most exciting part wasn't watching her expertly manipulate my penis with her mouth. Rather, it was that the whole time she was blowing me, she was furiously masturbating with her right hand. That was just so hot... all the while that she was sucking me like a milking machine, she was getting her pussy revved up so that if I wanted to switch orifices, she would be ready to go. I've never had someone want to get me off so single-mindedly.

I swear there was a psychic connection between Simma and my dick. As if on cue, Simma stopped sucking. She stroked me with her free hand, licking me with her tongue, but mostly looking up at me and looking for guidance. Somehow she knew it was time for the main event.

Perhaps somewhat gruffly given my advance state of arousal, I tugged at Simma to get her to stand. I hadn't even thought about where I would fuck her--standing right in there would be fine if that's what it took. I just knew I wanted to fuck her, right fucking NOW. Once again, Simma was prepared. With a slight smile, she took my hand and guided me the few feet over to the bar. She turned one of the bar stools so that it faced me and hopped up on it. She didn't really sit though--she kind of planted her tush on the seat, but then leaned back, propping herself up by resting her elbows on the bar. Then she lifted her legs high overhead and wide apart, holding her legs open in a V-shaped position. I didn't appreciate at the time what kind of flexibility and core-muscle strength it must have taken to maintain that position, all I knew is that everything I could have ever wanted was laid out before me for the taking like a goddamn smorgasbord. 

I moved in for the kill. Simma was ready--she reached for me and guided me into her steaming pussy herself. Then she braced herself against the bar again, working to hold herself steady on the stool, anticipating that I would be rocking her hard. I did not disappoint. I felt that warm, wet pussy envelop my dick and I fucked her like a Neanderthal. It helped that I was pretty close to cumming anyway from the blowjob, but her laid out before me like that was just... amazing. Thrusting her hard and fast, my eyes and hands twittered around her varied and considerable charms, taking a sample of this and a sample of that like at a buffet table. I tweaked a nipple... then I stroked her hair... then I ran my fingers along her finely toned belly... then back to her tits... wow. Everything a man could want she had, of fine quality and right there for me to enjoy. I really wonder how she kept me from knocking her off the stool, because I was fucking her HARD. My conscious mind was completely taken over by pure animal lust... and it was WONDERFUL. 

Were I still a younger man, the story would have been over at this point. But while quite capable I am not quite what I used to be--and that's not necessarily a bad thing. No more premature ejaculation here; I kept pumping her pussy steadily, knowing I was going to blow very soon, but not just yet. I looked up at Simma's face for a moment. I was expecting to see that same calm, in control, I am here until you have finished with me face. But I didn't. Instead, Simma's eyes were closed and she was biting her lip unconsciously. I watched more closely, and I realized her breath had become shallow. Perhaps in spite of herself, my continued relentless fucking was now revving her motor, too. That in-control, I'm in charge persona was gone, replaced by something else--something much more real. A real woman, getting really fucked, and feeling real pleasure and excitement because of it. In other words, I was fucking her so well, I was actually starting to get her off. 

My ego swelled when I realized my bonage was cracking her facade. I started to feel studly, which spurred me to drive even harder. And between the ego boost and the sexual stimulation, I did now climax. I felt my nuts gear up, my erection turn to iron. I pushed my cock as far into her pussy as I could reach. Simma felt the change and opened her eyes, looking at me. Without intending to, we ended up gazing into each other's eyes at the exact moment that my dick exploded in orgasm deep inside her belly. It was an intensely powerful moment. 

Simma relaxed a little, thinking her job was done, but that studly voice in the back of my head kept spurring me on. I had started to actually turn her on; I wanted to see if I could make her cum. With my dick shrinking slowly inside her, I reached between her legs and started rubbing the little nubbin of her clitoris furiously. She brought her knees in; she squeaked "no," but swallowed the words. I sensed that she didn't want me to get her off (although I didn't understand why at the time), but she also didn't want to tell me not to do something if it was what I wanted. She closed her eyes, bit her lip nervously, and held position as I rubbed her clit. Her hips, however, told me all I needed to know; she could not help but squirm in response to my stimulation. Now I was the one in charge. I watched with fascination as the gorgeous creature responded to my manipulations, no longer dictating the pace and sequence of events. I kept rubbing. It didn't take very long before I saw her stiffen up, and then felt shudders racking her entire body. 

I had succeeded, that REALLY swelled my ego--for about a minute. But then I noticed Simma's reactions, and suddenly I felt a little guilty. She kept her eyes closed, turned away from me for a moment, and seemed to be struggling keep composure. By actually making her cum, I had now brought her real emotions into the picture. Up until now this had just been part of the job; it hadn't been difficult when her real feelings were kept at a distance. But I had forced them to the surface and made it all more complicated; I understood now why Simma didn't want me to get her off. I leaned in to kiss her, trying to comfort her, but she cut the kiss short. "I'm sorry," I started to say, stepping back to let her get up. This is not how I had wanted this to end.

"No be sorry," she said, regaining composure as she stood up and straightened her thigh-highs. "Is just... more than I expect..." 

I was afraid that I had scared her off completely. "Do you still want to be my secretary?" I asked tentatively.

She whirled on me hopefully. "You take job?" 

"I'm supposed to meet with Milan for dinner tonight to discuss it," I said. I could see her hopes dash. 

"If you take job, you choose secretary," she parroted the company line.

"If I take job," I said, mimicking her syntax, "I choose you to be secretary. I'm asking if you are still willing to BE my secretary." 

"But of course," she answered, turning to me again with a perplexed look. "Why I change mind?" 

"I just... wondered if I had just crossed a line, and you were having second thoughts," I explained. 

"No," she shook her head. I suddenly wondered if she didn't now want the job even more than before.

"Would you come with me when I have dinner with the president?" I asked impulsively. 

She shook her head again, but looked me in the eye and spoke earnestly. "No... I cannot. Secretary not allow to come to dinner with president unless invite by president. Even if you invite."

"Oh," I said sadly. "I was kind of hoping to spend some time out on the town after dinner..."

"That I can do," she brightened. "You call when you finish, I meet you in bar. Maybe we have few drink, I show you around." 

"I'd like that, Simma," I declared.

"I like that too."

------------------------------

I did a lot of thinking as I showered before dinner. I hadn't seen a lot of the country--but then again, I probably wouldn't even if I lived here. I'd work, then I'd come home, and I'd spend time with Simma. Goddamn she was hot. OK, focus. If I lived here I'd be three thousand-plus miles from my kids here, I'd almost never see them. But they had lives of their own now; I almost never saw them anyway. I could always fly home for holidays, the one time I might see them--although I wouldn't have a place to fly home to, so how would that work? Well, maybe I could visit them in their homes rather than the other way around. Or I could go to my parents; they were elderly but still lived in the house where I grew up.

Systems International wasn't offering a lot of money--a little less than I was making now actually. And money had been the main reason I thought I might come here, but that was before I knew about the "benefits." And because of the benefits, my salary would be almost entirely my money, in the clear. It certainly seemed I could save money a lot faster here--the tax situation was much more favorable, and there just wasn't that much to spend it on. But I didn't know anyone here, and I had read that not many people spoke English... I'd have to rely almost entirely on Simma. 

Simma. Everything, no matter how much I thought about other factors, revolved around her. I had to hand it to them, Systems International certainly understood how to recruit. Take a guy like me, experienced in the field but getting divorced and uncertain about his future, and guarantee him unlimited sex with a hotter girl than he could possibly find back home. How could a guy like me NOT seriously think about it? Let's be honest: why do men work and compete with each other and all that rot in the first place? In order to obtain sexual access to the most desirable women. Simma... having her around seemed to be cutting to the chase. I was realistic enough to know that if my objective was to have sex with a hot younger woman, my only choice was to come here, because I had no chance with a girl like her back home. Yeah it wasn't like being in a relationship--but right now, with my divorce about to go through, unlimited sex with no strings attached didn't sound like a bad thing at all. And yet... that look on her face after I made her cum stuck in my mind. That look that it wasn't from fucking as a business proposition. Crazy though it might be, I couldn't stop wondering if maybe, just maybe, Simma might pan out to be more than just a "secretary." And even if it didn't... I'd still get to bone her to my heart's content, goddamn it! For my dick at least, it was a can't-lose situation. 




Welcome to Rolennia Ch. 01



---------------------

Mr. Jumarek turned out to be a crusty, old, no-nonsense kind of guy--I wondered how he came to be head of a high-tech company, but he was. As we talked over dinner, it soon became clear that he was only interested in my work experience. I felt like he intended to hire someone and then leave them to do their job. I wondered if he even KNEW about the kind of benefits his company was offering--in fact, I asked Tom about it on the way to the bathroom.

"Oh, he does..." he said offhandedly, "because that's the way all business is run in Rolennia. But he makes a point to stay out of that stuff. That's why he leaves the day to day operations of the office to me. But don't get the wrong idea... there's an exclusive club in town for the handful of wealthy businessmen, and word is that it's basically a sex club. Milan spends a LOT of time over there."

I felt a little odd asking this while pissing, but it was my only opportunity. "So let me make sure I have this straight--do you sleep with your secretary?"

"Sleep with her? No. I have sex with her, but when I'm done I send her down to her room and sleep by myself.

I couldn't even imagine doing that, but Simma did say she had a room in the building. "You have sex with her... every night?" I prodded.

"And at least once during the day," he said proudly. "Sex during office hours is not against company policy in Rolennia!"

"Would you say... you have a relationship with her?" If he sent her away after he fucked her like she was a prostitute, I had a pretty good idea of the answer.

He thought about that as he finished peeing and did the shake. "I dunno. I mean, when you've fucked the same woman a few hundred times, you get to know a few things about her, sure. But I don't feel anything special about her, other than lust of course. She IS a good secretary, but more importantly she's a great fuck. Eventually she'll get older, and I would expect that I'd replace her with someone younger. But she's still plenty hot; won't happen anytime soon."

"Oh," I said with more disappointment than I meant to convey.

"But that's just me," he hastily added. "There are some guys that are inseparable from their secretaries. Almost like being in a relationship. Not sure how they swing that, since the guy clearly holds all the cards, but that's their business not mine. I take it you really like Simma?" I nodded sheepishly. He slapped me on the back. "Nothing wrong with that, friend. Tell you what--why don't I call Jelena, and have her and Simma meet us in the bar once we're done meeting with Milan? We'll have a few more beers--the local brew is excellent by the way, and cheap as dirt--and then we can let the girls tour us around the local nightlife. I don't go out much, but I know there really a surprising number of fun things to do in Yevczich if you can afford them. And by local standards, we're wealthy. What do you say?"

"I'd really like that," I admitted.

It was almost two hours later when they arrived. Milan had gone and Tom and I were on our second beer at the bar. Tom was explaining how he managed his friends and family situation back home when we noticed a sudden hush settle over the bar. We looked up to see the girls heading our way; let's just say every Johnson in the place stood up and took notice. Jelena, Tom's secretary, was wearing a micro-mini black dress, skin tight with spaghetti straps, black hosiery and heels, her blond hair a mane of perfect curls. But my eyes were naturally drawn to Simma. She wore dark blue jeans with pencil thin straight legs and a matching jean jacket that she wore open over a belly shirt, the wonderful, finely muscled flesh of her midsection unabashedly displayed in the open space of her jacket. She had her hair somehow gathered so that its length flowed all to one side. They were so hot... it was as if two supermodels had stumbled off of the runway and into a neighborhood bar. I wanted Simma with every fiber of my being. But I could wait and let them show me around their city--because I knew that when the tour was done, I would take her back to my bed and she would give me anything I wanted. What more could a guy possibly ask for???

Simma was smiling as she approached me, maybe because I had gotten up off of my bar stool and was holding my arms out to hug her in greeting. She came up and kissed me on both cheeks--this may be a hole in the wall country, but it was definitely still Europe. I liked that. I liked it even more when I wrapped my arms around her slender waist, and without meaning to they slipped under her jacket and rested on her smooth bare skin. She put her arms around my neck, and the rest of the bar resumed their conversations. It seemed the locals understood that if you saw a hot girl with an older guy, she was probably on the clock. "How did meeting with Mr. Jumarek go?"

"He offered me the job," I explained, feeling quite comfortable holding this lovely thing close to me even though we'd just met today. Amazing orgasms will do that to you, I guess. Her eyes looked up at me hopefully. "I haven't accepted yet, but I am leaning towards taking it." I hadn't said that to Tom, but I knew he was listening even as he ordered a round of drinks for the girls. 

"Am leaning?" she prodded playfully. "Is anything I can do to help make up mind?" 

"Oh I'm quite certain there is," I agreed with a mischievous gleam in my eyes, "and I would be sorely disappointed if you didn't try." She flashed me a smile that could light up a room, with cute little dimples right at the corners of her mouth. Then she craned her neck up towards me. Our lips and then our tongues intertwined in a kiss. At that moment, even before the start of what would be an unbelievable evening of drinking, dancing, laughing, and stumbling around the city capped off by unbelievably hot sex, I knew... my next home address was going to be in Rolennia.



Welcome to Rolennia Ch. 02



I watched as Simma expertly wheeled the mouse around the spreadsheet, my hand resting lightly upon her shoulder next to a cascade of red hair. I had been working for three months now at the headquarters of Systems International in Yevczich, the capital of the small eastern European republic of Rolennia. Simma was my secretary—in fact she was the main reason I had quit my New York job and hauled my ass almost 4,000 miles to a berg no one I knew had ever heard of. The thing that amazed me is how facile she was with a mouse. It was like an extension of her hand... I had worked with computers for my whole career, but using a mouse just wasn't as second nature to me as it was to Simma. Maybe that's because Simma was just 23, and so she had been using a mouse basically since birth, when she had access to a computer. In a poor formerly Soviet-bloc country whose best-known exports were porn stars, those weren't always easy to come by.

"And zat is how you update ze exchange rate," she explained proudly. Her English was outstanding if accented in a country where not many spoke it.

"Simma, you are amazing. Are you sure you never went to college?"

"Only one University in Rolennia. Top five percent of... how you say, high school? ... get in. I finish six percent. I no have money to go school out of country, so I end up here."

"And am I ever thankful for it," I agreed, kissing the bright red hair on top her head gently. 

"Stop it," she purred quietly, not really mad. "If you want kiss, I come in office." 

"I'd like to come in my office," I agreed. Simma smiled, understanding my double-entrendre perfectly. She locked her workstation and followed me in, closing and locking the door behind her. I sat in my chair, turned sideways to my desk. Simma came by my chair, rested her hands on my armrests, and kissed me sweetly. Then with a smile, she proceeded to perform her duty... unzipping my pants, she expertly extracted my erect penis and proceeded to go down on me. See in Rolennia, not only does sexual harassment not exist, but secretaries are expected, required even, to attend to all of their bosses' needs—most especially their sexual ones. Being a secretary here can be a 24-hour job--at least it was for Simma, because I had never spent a night in Rolennia where Simma wasn't a welcome guest in my bed. But that is a somewhat unusual arrangement, which is why she didn't want me to kiss her in public. Most of the secretaries never got kissed by their bosses although they were dutifully having sex with them two or three times a day. Whereas most executives would send their secretaries away to sleep in their tiny private rooms on the first floor of the executive living quarters after the last fuck of the night, Simma spent her nights in my king-size with satin sheets, my arm wrapped around her slender waist to ward off the cold. I treated Simma like, well, a girlfriend rather than a sex toy, and I had heard rumors that there was some jealousy among some of the other secretaries because of it. 

Simma sucked my dick with her usual mid-day efficiency. By now she knew just the right pace, just the right length of stroke, and just the right delicate spot over which to repeatedly run her tongue, so that she could suck me from zero to climax in just a few minutes. Efficiency was the order of the day when it came to mid-day blowjobs; she generally didn't bother to remove or even loosen any of her clothes--she knew I would take great delight in undressing her at bedtime. She would sometimes complain playfully on days where I was not satisfied with her talented mouth and wanted her body as well, that requiring her to remove clothing and lay down on my desk would put her behind on her work for the rest of the day. So most of the time I just let her suck me dry, marveling at the beautiful face wrapping its lips around my dick, watching her marvelous red hair bobbing in time with her neck. 

I liked to rest my hand gently on her head, running my fingers through her hair sometimes, just to maintain connection to Simma the person while she was servicing me. She turned her eyes up towards me, knowing that I would be watching her yet not self-conscious. Our eyes met and gazed softly at each other. We weren't just a randy boss and his dutiful secretary; I felt like I had a relationship with Simma, and the way she looked at me sometimes made me think that she felt at least a little that way, too. 

Simma was watching my eyes for another reason as well. She couldn't quite explain how, but she tells me that she can tell in my eyes when I'm about to cum even before she can feel it in my penis. She must be right, because just about the time I feel my nuts seize and start to churn out the spunk, Simma has switched from suck mode to swallow mode. The fast, focused sucking and tonguing is replaced by a slow, gentle movement where the sucks me deep, then twists slightly as the releases me, running her tongue along my length like she is wiping me down. It is almost always in this position that she receives my cum in her mouth. She will repeat this motion three or four times, collecting the sperm in until she feels the spasms end. Then she will release my dick, pool the whole load on her tongue, open her mouth briefly to show the spunk on her tongue, and then swallow it with a decisive, deliberate and incredibly sexy motion. She will open her mouth again to show that it is empty, and then she will take a moment to clean my softening dick, tongue licking it as a cat licks its kitten. While she does this I am usually reaching into the drawer for the breath spray; she knows where it is, but I think it's the least I can do to fetch it for her. When I'm too soft to bother with, she lets my dick fall from her lips and sprays her mouth with the minty freshness before leaning over and sharing a lingering kiss of appreciation. 

This pattern may be predictable, but it never gets old. Today, however, there was a departure from the routine because Simma had something she wanted to talk about after the post-swallow kiss. "Do not forget... today all-secretary meet."

"Oh shoot, I did forget," I admitted. "With Ivana?" Simma nodded. Ivana was... the matron you might say of the secretarial corps. A house mother of sorts. She was one of the original secretaries when SI was founded--some say that the whole fucking-the-boss-is-expected thing was her invention, but there's no evidence to back that up. Now 40 something and three kids later, she could still turn heads walking into a room. She was the only female employee at corporate headquarters that did not directly report to a boss for whom she was expected to perform sexual favors. Instead, her job was to oversee the other girls to make sure that they were doing their jobs. If a girl wasn't doing a good enough job satisfying her boss for whatever reason, Ivana was the one to broach the subject. If a girl needed something to please her boss--a sex harness, a nurse's uniform or double-headed dildo--Ivana would get. And if a boss was getting too rough with his secretary and putting her in danger, Ivana would be the one to tell him to cool it or he would lose secretarial privileges. In short, she wielded as much power as my boss did, only in more subtle fashion. "Do you know what it's about?"

Simma shook her head again. "I do not, but other secretary tell me it is probable refresher training." Recruitment and training of secretary's was another of Ivana's jobs. She would find the most beautiful girls in the country and offer them jobs at SI; many had little sexual experience when they started. Ivana made sure her girls were up to whatever advanced kinkiness their jobs may require before placing them with an executive. 

"Any idea when you'll be done?" I asked, thinking ahead. 

"I not know. You eat without me, yes?" This was another way in which I was unusual. Most cooked for their bosses, then took mealtimes as a rare time off. Simma and I always had dinner together--and usually I cooked, for the simple reason that Simma's cooking was terrible. But I could cook some, and I hated eating along, so it was only natural in my mind that I cook for the both of us. When you're with a girl that's half your age and looks as great as she does, a little cooking is a small price to pay for the tail you get. 

Simma went off to her meeting at 3. I hung around the office until 5:30 in case she returned, but she did not. I went home and started dinner, hoping she would be back to eat. When she didn't return I started eating. I was just finishing up at 7:15 when I heard the door open. I got up from the breakfast counter; we met in the middle and hugged. "Wow, that was a long meeting."

"Yes," is all she said. 

"Are you hungry? There's food in the kitchen, I'll warm it up for you." 

"No I not... well... jus a little please." 

"Of course," I smiled and gave her a kiss. But there was something funny, something distracted about her demeanor. I wondered what they had talked about at her meeting as I went into the kitchen to reheat her food. 

I came out with her dinner on a plate five minutes later. Simma was sitting in her usual seat at the breakfast bar. I served her and took the seat next to her as I always did. "So what did Ivana want to talk to everyone about?"

"She want everyone get ready for big convention," she said between bites.

"What convention?" 

She gave me a funny look. "Mr. Thurman not tell you of convention?" I shook my head. "Rolennia Business Exposition. Rolennia is not big country--all big business man and government go to convention. They talk, deal get done--they say you not can operate in Rolennia if you not shake right hands at convention. Maybe give bribe too, I don know."

"That's interesting--no, I hadn't heard about it." But then I thought "so why was Ivana talking to YOU about it." 

"Convention... not so much about business as is fun for business man? Lots of drink... lots of sex... all businessman bring secretary to convention. Then maybe he make trade to have sex with each other secretary, or maybe share..." My anxiety spiked immediately. I was not about to share Simma with anyone. "Ivana say is like orgy for three day. Many time secretary get offer new job after convention. If girl now job not so big pay, is good opportunity to move up. But SI is pay very well; we not want very much to get new job. So instead we host."

"What does that mean?" 

"We work... like serve drink, greet guest, thing like so. So we maybe not have so much sex as most girl, but Ivana want we train in case. Is up to boss."

"What is up to your boss?"

"Dey tell us convention rule: no one touch other man secretary without permission. So is up to you if you want I have sex with other man or no."

"Not for you, Simma," I declared. "I don't care if the Prime Minister asks, I'm not sharing you with anybody!"

She smiled almost condescendingly and gave me a peck on the cheek. "You sweet man Marteen. I know you mean well. But is important to play by rule or maybe lose job. And if you lose job, I lose job. You not want that, I not want that. Is no big deal, have sex with other man sometime. Is just one day."

I paused, thinking. Yes, Simma and I had much more of a relationship than any other boss and secretary at SI, but her response reminded me that ultimately that was still what we were. I really had feelings for her, and while I liked to think that when we snuggled in bed after sex she had feelings for me too, the fact is that even after three months together I couldn't say for certain that she would have anything to do with me if it weren't her job. I could tell she didn't relish the idea of having sex with a stranger, but she had this resignation that that might be what is required--I'm sure that's how she first felt about me, too. I hoped that she didn't still... but I really didn't know. "I don't see why I would even be going to this thing. I work entirely with people inside the company; why should I go meet these people when I won't see them again anyway? I'll tell Tom I shouldn't go to the conference--and if I don't go, you won't have to go either, will you?" 

She chuckled. "System International host of conference. ALL staff go to conference in some way. You want HOPE you go as guest, or else you will go as worker. Is better to be guest I think." I frowned... there must be some way. Simma changed the subject, sort of. "Even if I not go, I must still do training."

"Do training? You mean you aren't done? You have to go back for more?" I was really anxious now.

"Maybe. Is depend." She started to get the confident swagger in her voice when the topic of conversation turned to sex. 

"Depends on what?"

"Is depend on if I show I not need training... because I already know how..."

"Ahh," I said, catching on to her suggestion. "So if you can prove that you are already doing it with me, you don't need to go back training." She nodded her head like a woman with a secret. "Is that the way you would rather do it?" Now I was the one teasing.

She flashed her eyebrows at me. "I MUCH rather you train than Ivana." I could tell she meant it.

"And just what do I need to do?" 

She didn't answer, but bit her lip in a sexy schoolgirlish way. She slid off the chair, turning her backside in my direction. She thrust her butt out, then slowly and sensually hiked up her miniskirt. I watched with great interest, although I hadn't caught on to where this was leading yet. I saw the tiny thong she usually wore... only something was funny about the way it lay... loose-like, not tight to the crack. But Simma didn't stop... as I pondered what was different, she sensually pulled the strip of fabric to the side. Something bright red and plastic was somewhere it didn't seem like it ought to be. It took me a minute to figure out what it was. "Is that... a butt plug?" 

She smiled over her shoulder with a twinkle in her eye, continuing to show me her ass. "How long have you been wearing that?" 

"Since start of meeting... two three hour maybe." 

I couldn't imagine sitting through a two hour meeting with a plug stretching my asshole. I also couldn't imagine starting a meeting by giving every attendee a butt plug and expecting them to put it to immediate use--but I'd like to be given a chance to try. "Wow... well I'd sure love to help with your, uh, training, but I'm not exactly an expert."

"Is not so difficult. I have train before." I imagined she did--I'm sure that before they let her audition for the secretary gig, Ivana made sure she could take one up the ass. I could just picture her with a big black strap-on... the possibility hadn't come up between us before, however. I guess I couldn't blame her for not volunteering that information.

"So you've been prepared to have anal sex with me from the beginning?" 

She turned around, wrapping her arms around my neck with an I-have-a-secret smile. "I tell you from start, I do anysing you want I do..." and then she kissed me. My hands fell to her slender waist, naturally, comfortably; I had gotten quite used to holding Simma close, in a good way. But it was not lost on me that she was the one that initiated this kiss. Oh we kissed a lot, but I was always the one to initiate, except for sometimes right after she had an orgasm. The only other time I distinctly remembered her initiating a kiss was when I was interviewing for the job, and she was doing her best to seduce me in order that she could get this coveted secretary position. The fact that I was here in Rolennia was testament to her power of persuasion... although I wondered sometimes if it would have changed her mind if she had known in advance that I would want her by my side 24 hours a day. 

The kiss ended; Simma flashed her eyes at me dreamily. "I not know, maybe is too early go to bed?" she purred. 

"Oh no. I'm quite ready to go to bed now..." I growled lustily, kissing her again. I was already hard--not so much from the prospect of exploring Simma's ass as from the fact that she was the one initiating the festivities. I suppose there wasn't much need for her to--I called her into my office when it was time for our fuck-break at work, and at home it was understood that bedtime meant sex time. Unless I wanted it sooner, in which case I initiated that too. Here was a situation where she wanted to get things started, however, and so she was doing the fire-starting--and I was LIKING it.

Simma took my hand and we sojourned to the bedroom. But then Simma gently took my shoulders and sat me down on the bed. She stood before me confidently and unbuttoned her suit jacket. She slipped if off her shoulders and tossed it aside. Then she knelt before me, reaching for my belt with a twinkle in her eye. I lifted my butt off the bed slightly so Simma could slide my pants off. She folded them quickly and laid them aside, then pulled off my boxer briefs and socks, leaving me in just my dress shirt. Her eyes looked up at me knowingly as she bent over, opened her lips, and started caressing my cock with her tongue. She knew exactly how I liked to be sucked.

If I live to 100, I will never grow tired of feeling Simma blow me. For one thing, she had, like, different styles for different occasions. This afternoon was the no-nonsense blow job, steady and intense in order to achieve orgasm as quickly as possible and get back to work. But tonight, she was doing my favorite style. Her lips caressed the skin as my dick slid between them; her tongue teased my tip relentlessly, but her pace was slower. The result was to excite my penis to its absolute breaking point, and then maintain that level of arousal for as long as she chose to. She would sometimes stroke my balls or vary it up with the occasional deep-throat, but most it was concentrated pleasuring of my most sensitive spots. All she would have needed to do was pick up the pace a little and in no time she would have a mouthful of spunk, but that is precisely why she didn't. It was the perfect foreplay prelude to any other sexual activity, because it made my cock as hard as a frigging iron bar. 

I loved to watch Simma's pretty, youthful face swallowing my cock, loved to see her red hair bobbing in time with her neck. As she sucked me tonight, she was simultaneously unbuttoning her blouse at a deliberate pace. I watched as more and more of her pale, lightly freckled skin became visible with each button. Familiarity did nothing to reduce the anticipation of seeing it again. 

The last button undone, Simma stripped the blouse slowly from her shoulders and laid it aside. Her head was down, concentrating on sucking my cock the whole time. Then she unhurriedly reached behind her to release the strap of her black lace bra and slipped that off as well. I smiled slightly to myself as my eyes could feast on the sight of her young, firm breasts, standing out proudly in defiance of gravity. Like a stripper, she pinched her own pale nipples lightly between her thumb and forefinger then rubbed the length of her forearm across the, making sure they were excited and erect although it appeared to have been wholly unnecessary. Ahh... I felt myself get just a tiny bit harder, like from iron to steel, because although she could suck me off out of sight under a table (I can say that for a fact), my favorite way to watch her blow me was when I could watch and fondle her bare breasts as well. 

Simma wasted no time moving from her buttons to mine, head still down and bobbing up and down on my Johnson. I watched, appreciatively, feeling this slight sense of surrealism I often felt watching her suck my dick. A woman nearly half my age, beautiful as a movie star, sucking like a porn star and it was my dick in her mouth--sometimes it was hard to believe that this was real life and not a fantasy dream.

Simma's eyes gazed up at me, wondering if something was wrong. Normally when she sucked me topless I held and fondled her breasts in my hands at the same time. I smiled at her gratefully, then gently ran the fingers of one hand through her hair. Reassured I just wanted to vary it up a little, she focused again on my cock and sucking me. 




Welcome to Rolennia Ch. 02



When Simma undid my last button, I tossed off my shirt. Simma released my penis and spoke to me while stroking it. "You want start usual way first? Or want start right away with butt?" 

Simma didn't pull any punches. "Can we start the usual way first?" I didn't want to let on that I was feeling a little nervous about doing this. 

"Of course," she said, standing. She slipped her panties down her stockinged legs, stepping her high heels through the leg holes. She lifted her short skirt up to her waist, revealing her smooth-shaved mound and the garter belt holding up her hosiery. I was watching her as I tend to do, so I hadn't moved. Without hesitation she stepped forward, bent one knee and placed it next to me, and swung her crotch over my erection. With practiced efficiency she grasped my penis and guided me into her vagina, already lubricated and ready to go. Ah, to be 23 again--her pussy was wet and ready just from sucking my dick. At first she used to masturbate while sucking to be ready to receive me, but now engaging in intimate acts of any kind were enough to get her juices flowing. I wanted to think that maybe that meant that at some level least she was into me... but I was much too afraid to ever find out for certain. 

Simma swung her second leg over, rested her hands on my shoulders for balance and began lifting her crotch and the lowering it onto my penis in rhythm. I straightened my feet on the floor to provide a stable platform and rested my hands on her waist to help keep her torso aligned with my dick as she impaled herself on my shaft repeatedly. It felt a bit funny--not because she was on top, which she frequently was, but because I was sitting up on the bed while she did it. This particular position we usually only did when sitting in my office chair; I found myself missing my backrest. 

Simma interrupted my thoughts by wrapping her arms around my neck and bending forward to kiss me again. She did her best to balance continuing to fuck my dick with the necessity of keeping her head still enough to kiss, but I loved it because again she had initiated the kiss. I was already wishing she would come on to ME instead of the other way around every night! 

When the kiss ended, our eyes met. "Let me know when is ready to change... I get lubricate." Then she resumed full-bore rising and falling, engulfing my dick with her eager hot pussy. I watched her thighs momentarily, appreciating the muscle tone it required to engage in such aerobic intercourse--she could keep this up for an hour easy if need be. 

"I'm just not sure what to do," I confessed.

"Is OK, I teach. You want start?" 

"Sure, why not?" I said trying to sound nonchalant. Don't get me wrong--the thought of butt-fucking hot little Simma had me as excited as anyone. But I really didn't want to screw up, not succeed and let Simma down. I expect that any guy lucky enough to have sexual access to a beautiful women 20 years his junior has these kinds of concerns some of the time. 

Simma smiled, held my chin in her hands and kissed my cheek before lifting herself off of my dick and standing up. She took two steps to the nightstand and opened the drawer, taking out the silicone lubricant housed there. "You want stand?" she hinted, so I did. She squirted on squeeze of slippery onto her fingers and started to rub onto her butt all around the plug that still filled her. As she worked it in, she knelt and sucked me again, just to make sure I stayed hard, undoubtedly tasting her own juices that permeated my member. Satisfied that my stiff wasn't flagging, she globbed out another dollop into her palm and with expert stroking worked it all around my cock. In no time I was slippery as a greased pig. 

Satisfied, she suddenly got up on the bed on all fours. Her knees were just at the edge of the bed, with her calves hanging over, and she lifted her butt up into the air. It was clear I was to fuck her while standing, so I stepped up to the plate so to speak, stroking my slippery staff. Realizing her butt was a bit too high, she spread her knees further apart, bringing her lower. "Just a bit more," I directed. She did, and now her butt seemed to be the right height. "Good," I said. Good thing she was so flexible. And man, is there anything sexier than a girl bending over backwards (almost literally) just to give you a better angle of penetration? 

"OK. Now I pull out plug. As soon as I pull out, you go in, yes?" 

"Yes," I agreed, mesmerized by the succulent ass before me. I had often fantasized about anal sex, and now with this ass one inch from my dick and about to let me penetrate... any anxieties I had earlier were forgotten in trembling anticipation. Her head was turned sideways as she reached for her butthole. Grasping the plastic plug, she tugged at it, slowly so that her sphincter could expand to let the slightly wider part inside her out. It came out slowly, slowly, until at once the widest part of the plug was free and the rest of the roughly conical plug came out easily. I wasted no time... as soon as the plug was out, I was there, shoving my dick in. My dick sank balls-deep into her anus before her ass could tighten around my dick... but I could feel it tightening quickly. I held my position for a moment as her butt squeezed me tightly. But it reached a certain pressure and then nothing more, so cautiously I tried to slide my dick out.

With my penis so slippery, I had no trouble sliding in and out despite the pressure applied by her asshole. And because it was tighter than a pussy, I found it immensely pleasurable. It took a bit of getting used to the fact that the pleasurable sensations were focused in a narrow band, but my thighs bumping into her taught cheeks with every thrust was a real bonus. Simma arched her back and lifted her head. She even seemed to push back towards me to meet every thrust. I couldn't see her face, so I didn't know if she was enjoying, in pain or indifferent; she said nothing. But with my hands on her haunches, the sight and sensation of my penis perforating her lovely cheeks was quite stimulating. I could see how a guy might get real used to this, perhaps to the point of engaging in anal sex exclusively. Not me, I definitely wanted to fuck her pussy again, but I also hoped this wasn't the only time I'd get to plow this ass. Oh yeah, that's right... I'm the boss and she's the secretary. She'll give me this fine ass anytime I ask for it. What did I ever do before working at Systems International?

Simma turned her head slightly to look over her shoulder sideways. "You like Marteen?" The way she said my name sounded like a double-e instead of an "i." 

"Yeah," I agreed lustily, "it feels great." After a pause, I thought to add doubtfully "is it painful for you?" 

"Is not hurt, not yet. Is feel funny yes, but no pain." 

"OK. Just let me know if it does... I don't want to hurt you, and I can't see your face to tell for myself."

She turned her head slightly around again. "You want see my face?" 

I stopped thrusting for a minute (albiet balls-deep in her butt) and said "I always want to see your lovely face, Simma." I wondered if that came across as cheesy or romantic--in which case it was somewhat wasted on a girl for whom pleasing my every sexual whim was part of her job. But Simma was on the move... she extracted herself so she was no longer impaled on my dick, did a 90-degree turn and roll, and put her head on the pillow. She spread her thighs and lifted her legs high in the air, ready to receive me... this was a much more common position, and seeing her in that position was by itself a reason for living. I got on the bed and knee-walked to my customary position just below her butt. I noticed that she had rotated her spine up more than usual, so that her knees were closer to her head rather than straight up in the air. Again her hand reassuringly gripped me, and guided my staff towards her asshole. I understood now that she had to lift her butt more so that I could assfuck her while on her back. 

I found my way in and started to stroke, but something felt a little different, rawer... "Do we need a little more lube?" I asked. 

She nodded nervously "Maybe is good idea." I sensed this was more uncomfortable than it had been doggie-style. I reached for the tube, squeezed some out and started working it into my cock. Simma's hand came out of nowhere, stroking me briefly as well, but then taking the excess lube she had collected and working it into her asshole. It only took a minute and we were ready to try again. She lined me up, a bit gingerly this time, and again I found my way into the dark cavern. There was no problem now, however, with chafing as I resumed my full-on fucking pace. 

I watched Simma as I enjoyed the sensations of her tight ass on my dick. She held her ankles in her hands to help keep her legs high, which I found very sexy. Her eyes were closed, however; perhaps she was concentrating on staying relaxed. I liked looking into her eyes when my prick was inside her. Oh well... I turned my gaze to her breasts, her belly, which was scrunched up and almost invisible in this position... hello, now this was new. I guess I hadn't thought about it, but when my pubic bone wasn't pressed up against her pelvis, I could catch quick glances of her pussy. I pulled back and slowed down... wow, that was kind of cool. Her shaved slit, blushed with excitement, lay ready but unused as I plowed her ass. But I also discovered that in order to see her pussy, I had to back way up, to the point that I couldn't get good leverage for doing my business. So it was either watch her pussy or fuck her ass... easy choice. I leaned forward again and resumed cranking away. 

When I leaned forward, Simma seemed to be reacting more. This encouraged me to fuck harder, which in turn got an even bigger rise out of her. This was awesome, but I didn't understand what was happening until I paused for a second with my dick deep inside, feeling around. That's when I felt her pushing her mound against me, and I realized that by leaning more forward like this I must be rubbing directly against the bulb of her clitoris in a way I didn't when my dick was in her vagina. So I leaned forward a bit more when I resumed my pumping, and sure enough, Simma was in heaven. She opened her eyes; her face had that wonderful mixture of pleasure and surprise you see when you're really rocking a girl's world. Her ankles slipped out of her hands from the violence of my thrusts; she tucked them around my torso, holding by back lightly just below the armpits. Her mouth fell open and her breathing grew even more salient. 

Our eyes met. I kept pumping her with my dick. She kept getting aroused... and more aroused... I knew that look; she was getting close to orgasm. My arms and legs were getting tired, but like a horse chasing a carrot the fact that she was close to cumming spurred me on. Thank goodness it was silicone lube, because anything else would have burned away from the relentless, pleasurable friction. Relaxing was suddenly not a problem, because all she could focus on was the pleasurable sensation of my pube teasing her clitoris while my dick excited its deepest roots that abutted her rectum. She suddenly gripped me more tightly and her eyes glazed ever so slightly; I knew I had taken her to the top. I slowed my pace, waiting to experience the rumbling earthquakes that shook her body when she came from within. I was not disappointed. Her sphincter, however, seemed to squeeze me even more tightly with each tremor. When her orgasm subsided, her ass was really tight... so tight it wasn't very comfortable for me. I withdrew before it squeezed my dick clean off.

"Oh... that I was not expect," she panted, "was very good." 

"I love to make you happy, Simma," I replied. She smiled; I bent over and kissed her. The kiss was brief--Simma wanted to get on with business. She lifted her legs again, and I prepared to re-enter her ass... but suddenly it was too tight. 

"Oh... I get tight with orgasm," she announced. "I try relax. Maybe get plug again."

"Hold on. That might not be necessary," I said gently. I was starting to understand how to make this work. Simma needed to be relaxed for her asshole to be elastic enough to accept me... and I knew how to make her relax. 

She didn't know what I was doing when I moved over and laid next to her. But she quickly got the picture when I gently rolled her to her side. She bent her knees halfway, and I slipped in behind her, mirroring her position. We fit together like two spoons in a drawer. I kissed her shoulder and neck while stroking her arm gently, occasionally letting my hand wander and touch her belly, thighs or breasts, but then returning to stroke her arm and shoulders. This was our usual post-coital position, when we lay in bed in the afterglow before falling asleep. Sex usually tires men but wakes women, so I had grown accustomed to gently caressing Simma in the spoon position to help her relax as well before dozing off myself. It was a very special, intimate time between us, and it really helped build this bond that made me feel like there was more between us than her simply fulfilling her job responsibilities. Simma didn't quite understand why we were doing this already. "Why we do zis now? You not finish." 

I propped myself up slightly and whispered in her ear "because it helps you relax, right? And that's what you need... to relax." 

She nodded slightly, understanding now. I nibbled on her ear. Her hand reached back and found my erection, still quite aroused. She gripped it gently and stroked it, keeping me hard while I calmed her with my gentle touch. I could feel her relax by the touch of her back against my chest. 

I let her keep stroking me while I reached behind me for the lube once more. I squeezed out a fingerful and gently rubbed it around the area of her arse. I even pressed my finger into the tight hole; she didn't tense up at the intrusion. That encouraged me that maybe we were ready to finish this party, so I squeezed out another glop right onto my dick. She felt the slippery stuff and worked it into my penis for me. Then, while kissing her shoulder, I pressed my erection up against her anus. Her hand was there anyway and helped line me up. I pressed my dick against her asshole, and without too much trouble I was able to penetrate her ass again.

I slowly screwed her ass in the spoon position, still kissing her shoulder and neck. She offset her one foot slightly, which made it easier for me to penetrate. I reached around and fondled the closer breast, playing with the nipple that quickly became erect with my touch. She put her hands together and lay her head against them like she was sleeping, except of course that my dick was up her ass. It worked, though--she was relaxed, and so I had no trouble buttfucking her. Spooning, however, does not lend itself well to a fast pace. I loved screwing her ass like this, but I also knew that I'd never cum this way. So after enjoying the leisurely boof for five minutes or so, I returned to my knees.

Simma turned and looked up, ready to move to whatever position I wanted her in. I gently laid my finger on her lip as if shushing her. "Stay the way you are, darling. I think this will work fine." And it did. She laid on her side, head resting on her stacked hands, her butt thrust out in my direction. I was on my knees, fucking her in the ass. Yeah, my body was rotated 90 degrees relative to hers, but an asshole is perfectly round--what did it matter what angle I came at it from? And with the ability to gain traction, I regained the ability to fuck her like an animal. 

I suppose it might have looked a little funny; she was relaxing on her side like she was resting, I was screwing her ass like a madman. But it worked; she stayed relaxed, and I got full access to her anus. I also liked that I had easy access to her breasts, and watched my fingers knead them and tweak her nipples while fucking her up the butt. I wished I could see her face, but I could see it in profile, and I could see that she was relaxed and content. That was all I could ask for, really.

I wanted to finish quickly at this point, and so I kept pounding away without letup. She was able to stay receptive, so really we could have kept going this way for as long as was necessary. Only that wasn't very long. Her lean young body laid before me, receiving my erection in her backside... the curve of her thighs... the shapeliness of her torso... the firmness of her young breasts... there was plenty of stimulation. I drank it all in like a desert wanderer, and so it wasn't long before I could feel myself getting ready to explode. "I'm going to cum!" I announced. 

I was surprised that Simma jumped into action. She turned and looked up at me brightly. "Try to not cum very deep. I want take picture."

It took a second to understand... of course. She was supposed to provide proof to get out of training. What better proof than to send Ivana a picture of her stretched asshole with my cum dripping out of it? I didn't have time to think any further before it happened. I was still half-in when the first geyser exploded, but whereas I usually like to orgasm as deep inside as possible, this time I pulled back so that just my tip was still in her butt. I exploded two more times like that, and then had the thought to do one better. I got out just in time for the last spurt of cum to splash right across the opening of her ass. 

Simma quickly rolled onto her back, lifted her legs high again, and pulled at her ass cheeks to keep her butthole gaping. I quickly reached for my phone and set it to camera mode, then flashed two pictures of her proudly displaying her cum-soaked ass for the camera with a half-smile. I then took a close up. I showed her the pictures, and she smiled proudly. "Perfect! Is done now." 

"OK. I'll send them to Ivana," I said, and that's what I did while Simma ran to the bathroom. 

When she came back, Simma put her arms around me and kissed me with palpable gratefulness. "Sank you Marteen. Now I not need go train."

"My pleasure. Besides, I keep telling you, I don't want ANYONE but me touching you! Not even another girl." 

She smiled almost condescendingly at what she perceived to be my naivete. "You very sweet Marteen. But at convention, you muss share." 

I shook my head adamantly. "No way. I am NOT sharing you, my sweet." And we kissed again. I felt like she appreciated my devotion to her; I really treated her like a boyfriend would, and I don't think there was another secretary at SI that could say that--maybe not another secretary in Rolennia. Whether she thought that was a good thing or a burden, well...

"You like very much, I sink," she said with a sparkle in her eyes. "Somesink tell me is not last time I do zis for you." 

"God I hope not," I agreed. 

We kissed once, then Simma lay back down as she had before. "Massage me again, Marteen?" she asked, almost pleading. I returned to my spoon position as I more commonly did--satisfied and softening. I kissed her shoulder and stroked her arm lovingly until she fell asleep. Normally I was the first one to sleep after sex; I wasn't sure what this meant, but it made me feel good to know that I had lulled her to sleep. I looked at her naked, smoking hot body as it lay next to and up against mine. Resisting the urge to stroke her tits one last time lest it wake her, I reached down and pulled the covers up over the both of us. Then with one last kiss to her shoulder, I closed my eyes and lay down to pleasant dreams... dreams of fucking lovely Simma up the ass again and again...