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Work Do

By: 1-horny-hubby



My wife Sabrina (28years old) and I (30years old) had been married for 8 years. During this time neither of us had engaged in extra-marital sexual liaisons to my knowledge. Anyway, Sabrina is a very feisty woman in her early 30’s, 5’7”, long dark brown hair, green eyes, about 100lbs with 36d tits. I’m reasonably fit looking with short black hair, brown eyes, 6’2 and a 6” cock. 

She had just started this new job as a personal assistant to the CEO of one of the largest timber mills in our town, she’d been in this position for about a month when her boss put on an end of year party courtesy of the company. Her boss’s name was George and he was a silver-haired, slightly overweight white guy in his late 40’s I’d guess. Anyway, during the party he pulled me off to the side and after some small talk about this and that suddenly popped a question that stunned me, I asked him to repeat it because I wasn’t sure if I had heard correctly and he said,

“Have you ever considered sharing your wife with other men?”

Many thoughts rushed through my head but all that came out of my mouth was a stuttered “y-yes but sh-she never liked th-the idea when I m-mentioned it t-to her…”

He smiled at me as he patted me on the back and proceeded to tell me in a sarcastic manner that it all depended on how, when and where a thing like that was suggested!

He pointed out a door at the back of the hall and told me that if I wanted to watch him seduce my wife then I should turn the lights off in that room and make myself comfortable behind the mirrored glass, he also suggested I grab a bottle or two of my favorite drink as he planned to “be awhile” with my wife. I was a little pissed off at his arrogant attitude and the fact that he thought I’d let him do this but then I thought of how much I’d wanted this to happen and found myself going to the bar and then closing the door of the secret room before switching the light off. I had a clear view of the room next door, it had a huge boardroom table in it surrounded by 15 chairs. Two-seater black leather couches were against all four walls and there were some nice ferns and palms against the far wall that provided a bit of vegetation to break the formality of the boardroom.

About 15 minutes later George and my wife walked into the boardroom and sat at the table together. George laid a pile of paperwork in front of him as my wife pulled her chair closer to him to view what was on them. I saw them talk for a while and flip through the papers and then George put his arm around my wife’s shoulders as they both laughed about something that had been said. They stayed like that for a short time and then George let his arm slide down Sabrina’s back until his hand was resting on her hip. If my wife found this a little inappropriate she didn’t show it in any way. Then I saw George use his cell phone and a few minutes later a man appeared with a bottle of champagne and three glasses, he placed the lot on the table and sat on the other side of my wife. This new guy was a tall black guy, about 6’6 with a muscular build, neatly trimmed goatee and short tightly cropped black hair, he looked about 25. George said something and my wife stood up and filled all three glasses from the bottle, I noticed George’s hand rub over my wife’s ass as she leant forward over the table. She turned, smiled at him and gently smacked his hand as she sat back down and sipped her drink.

George stood and walked over to the mirror and reached below where I couldn’t see, I suddenly heard a click and a very slight hissing sound. Then I heard my wife’s voice as she asked George what he was up to. It dawned on me that the boardroom was wired for sound and fed back into the room I was in through a speaker system of some sort. George went back and sat down and refilled my wife’s glass that was half empty. I knew my wife couldn’t handle much alcohol before she started getting “tipsy” and wondered if George was trying to get her drunk in order to pull this off. George said rather loudly,

“Sabrina, have you ever thought of fucking other men besides your husband?”

I saw my wife blush then shake her head. Then she looked first at George then at the black guy beside her then back at George before taking a long gulp of her drink. George then stood and smiled as he asked another shocking question,

“Have you ever seen another mans cock in real life?”

My wife’s eyes involuntarily went to the huge bulge in George’s pants as she shook her head again, Mr Black laughed beside her as he watched George at play.

George slowly unzipped his fly and reached into his pants, my wife said in a hushed voice, “George, I don’t think you should be doing that…”

He laughed and then said, “Yeah, you are right, you should be doing it!” With that he grabbed her hand and shoved it into his pants and onto his cock. I heard my wife gasp but she didn’t remove her hand, in fact I saw her slowly running it down the length of George’s cock inside his pants leg. I watched as my wife undone her bosses pants and let them fall to the floor, she kept rubbing his cock through his boxers. I couldn’t see how big Georges cock was because he was turned away from me but it must have impressed my wife because she was licking her lips. I noticed Mr Black stand and undress, I was amazed at the size of his cock, it looked like a 10 to 12 inch black snake. It wasn’t very thick but it was covered in bulging veins as he stepped behind my wife and lifted her out of her chair. My wife raised her arms as George lifted her blouse off revealing her white lace bra. Behind her Mr Black hooked his thumbs into her skirt and slid it over her hips and down her legs allowing us all to see the skimpy pink g-string panties she was wearing. The thin strap was pulled up her ass and her creamy white butt cheeks were smooth and taut.

Mr Black undid my wife’s bra strap and George pulled the bra from her tits, they were full and her nipples were stiff and poking out like they only do when she is very horny.

Suddenly my wife leaned forward and dragged George’s boxers down to his knees before grabbing his cock in both hands. As she did this George turned and I saw his massive tool for the first time, it was enormous. It was about 8 inches long but incredibly thick with a large swollen head, it was as thick as my wife’s wrists and his obviously full balls hung huge and heavy beneath it. My wife went to lick this huge cock in front of her but George pulled away and shook his head as he said, “No baby, there is only one place I want this and that is deep inside your cunt!” Then he told Mr Black, “lick her good Trev, she’ll need plenty of lube for me.” He then pushed my wife over the table so her tits were pressed onto the hard surface then he reached down and lifted her left leg up onto the table as well so her legs were at a 90 degree angle to each other. My wife’s pussy was spread wide open and her cunt lips were pouting toward the two guys that were about to take her. Trev knelt behind her and started to suck on her clit noisily, licking and spitting all over her vaginal opening. My wife was writhing on the table and moaning as George rubbed his cock up and down her raised leg. All of a sudden George pushed Trev

away from my wife’s now soaking slit and positioned himself behind her with his thick cock in his hand. My wife raised herself up and looked back at George with a sexy smile on her face and pushed her ass up and out making her cunt open invitingly. George placed the head of his cock against my wife’s womanhood and rubbed it all around her hole covering his huge cock with the wetness that Trev had caused. Holding his cock in one hand and grabbing my wife’s hip with the other he started to push it in her. I heard her gasp as George’s huge cockhead popped into her tight cunt then she sighed loudly as her boss slid his thick shaft deep inside her. I could see her cunt stretched around his huge cock as he held himself deep inside my wife for ages before starting to pump in and out of her slowly. Trev had climbed onto the table and now he lay in front of my wife with his long cock in her mouth as she sucked on him. George was speeding up now and I could hear the fuck noises coming from my wife’s full pussy and the slurping of her mouth on Trev’s throbbing cock. George was holding my wife’s hips as he slid his monstrous cock in and out of her, he was telling her how much he’d wanted to fuck her since he’d first met her at her first interview with him. My wife just grunted in reply as her mouth was full of cock. George groaned loudly and yelled that he was about to cum as he began thrusting in and out of my wife at a terrific pace. My wife started sucking Trev’s cock like crazy as her boss pounded her slippery hole from behind, suddenly she let loose a long moan as she came hard. Her body was shuddering her orgasm was so intense. Her boss gripped her hips roughly and pulled her hard against him as he began pumping his sperm into her. I saw thick gobs of white gooey cum squeezing out between my wife’s opening and her bosses huge cock. It dripped down her legs as George continued to fuck her. Trev jumped up and leapt off the table and pushed George away from my wife. I saw my wife’s hole stretched wide open and huge amounts of cum gushing out of it as her boss’s still swollen cock slipped out of it. George stepped back as Trev quickly slid his long hard cock into my wife and started to thrust it in and out furiously. My wife just lay there totally spent after her orgasm letting this black guy use her pussy. Trev obviously didn’t like sloppy cunt because he suddenly pulled his cock out of Sabrina’s pussy and slid it into her ass as she lay there. He slid right in as his cock was completely covered in creamy cum and my wife just moaned as he started to pound her ass. George shook my wife until she raised up and looked at him and he lay on the table with his cock sticking up in the air and told her to climb on top of him and let him and Trev double fuck her. She got up slowly as Trev slid out of her ass and then she straddled her boss and let him slide his cock up inside her soaking cunt again. Then she collapsed on top of him resting her head on his chest as Trev re-entered her ass again. Trev didn’t last much longer before filling my wife’s ass with cum. Her boss then rolled her over onto her back and proceeded to fuck her for over an hour before cumming inside her cunt again. I watched all this in total fascination and wondered how many times these guys were going to cum inside my wife. But after George had filled my wife for the second time they all got dressed again, sat and finished the bottle of champagne and then George and Trev left the room while my wife went into the ladies room to clean up.

I heard the door open to the room I was in and turned to see George standing there with a big smile on his face. He sat down beside me and asked if I had enjoyed the show? I nodded and then he said,

“Look Craig, I know that you like to watch your wife getting fucked and you know I definitely love fucking your wife. So how’s this for a deal, I won’t fuck her without you being close by and you don’t interfere with our little arrangement, fair enough?”


I agreed but then asked,

“But what about this Trev guy? How many times is he gonna get in on the act because I’m not real happy about just anyone fucking my wife when they feel like it!”

George frowned suddenly and replied,

“Now that is what I call interfering with my little arrangement. The way I see it is that if your wife is happy to let me, Trev or anyone else fuck her then that is totally up to her right?”

“Yes but…” I started to say but George cut me off as he said,

“Look Graig, I’m offering you this deal for two reasons first, it’s a more honorable way to fuck another mans wife by having his consent. Secondly, it turns me on knowing that the husband of the woman I am fucking is watching me pound his wife.” He paused then continued to say,

“but don’t get me wrong pal, I can easily just keep fucking Sabrina without you having anymore to do with it so the choice is yours. What will it be?”

He was right, either I stay a part of it and get the benefits too or I not only miss out on the action but I’d also never know what exactly was happening and I knew that’d make me lose my mind so I agreed and we shook hands on the deal. George and I left the secret room and I went and sat at the bar. Sabrina appeared about 10 minutes later and smiled at me as she hugged me and asked if I was having fun. I nodded and asked her the same question, she nodded happily and ordered herself a glass of wine. We laughed together and she flirted with the guys and danced and had fun then we went home. She went and had a shower then came to bed and kissed me goodnight and told me she loved me very much as she held me tight and rested her head on my shoulder. She drifted off to sleep like this and I lay awake reliving all that I had seen and wondering what was next…



The End

Work Ethic Ch. 1



©January 2002 by Bob Peale

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. 

Author's Note:

This story was originally distributed as 6 chapters. 

It may not be reproduced in any form for profit without the written permission of the author. 

This story may be freely distributed with this notice attached, as long as no charge is made for it and it isn't changed in any way. If it is archived or displayed, it is done so with the understanding that the author will have unrestricted access to the archive or posting. 

Please address all feedback, inquiries, marriage proposals, etc. to the author. 

*******

Beverly rolled over and reached out sleepily to her husband's side of the bed. In that place between waking and sleeping she registered that it was empty…again. Groaning, she raised her head and looked at the clock: 11:23pm. It didn't even feel warm – he'd never come to bed. She listened for sounds of him somewhere in the house. Nothing – he'd worked another double shift.

Intellectually, she understood that Paul had to work this hard. It had been 8 months since Bev had been laid off, without so much as a "Thanks for your contribution". To fill the gap Paul had started picking up extra shifts at night, often doing work totally different than his normal job. He never complained about the increased burden, but Bev could see that it was starting to take its toll on him, both physically and mentally.

Unfortunately her intellect was at odds with her emotions. Ever since she'd lost her job, Bev felt broken, like it was something she'd done that had led to it. The truth was, the division had been dissolved; only the very senior people had found positions with the parent company. All of the low and mid level personnel were let go with one week's pay. 

She'd turned to sex to get validation, trying to prove her worth by bringing her husband pleasure. Of course with his schedule and the economic gloom hanging over them, sex was the last thing on his mind. Initially, he at least participated halfheartedly, but over the last few months she was lucky if he even moved, choosing instead to just lay there and let her do what she wanted. A banana had more life. 

What made it even worse was that, as her sex life with her husband deteriorated, Bev's sex drive increased a hundredfold. It got so bad that she was now masturbating 3 or 4 times a day to relieve the near constant pressure. 

The Internet provided an outlet. At first her surfing centered on job searches and special interest websites. Over time, she stumbled onto the wonderful world of erotica, starting first with story sites and progressing to bulletin boards and chat rooms. From there she proceeded to chat programs (first text then video) where she could connect with plenty of other people with overactive libidos. 

The beauty of the online erotic community was that men outnumbered women 5 to 1. She had her pick of men who wanted to be the object of her fantasies. At any one time she was carrying on 5 or 6 cyber affairs, moving on when someone no longer "did it" for her. 

Every man was different; some were more attractive than she'd ever seen in real life, others had cocks that made her salivate just to watch, while others still were willing to perform all manner of sex act while she watched with rapt attention. 

Of course, over time, she started to reciprocate, displaying herself on cam and bringing her self to orgasm for the viewing pleasure of others. On several occasions she'd watched a couple perform and that had been really hot, too. Playing online gradually consumed her - if a day went by without it, Bev felt physically ill.

The next morning there was at least evidence that Paul had been home. Pajamas were balled up on the floor next to the bed and the air smelled of soap and hot water. She dragged herself out of bed and got ready. For Christmas their parents had pooled their money and sprung to have the inside of the house painted, and the painters were supposed to show up today. Bev's ranch style house hadn't been painted since they'd bought it 7 years ago, and in truth it was starting to look a little run down. Maybe a new paint job was what they both needed to lift their spirits.

She'd just pulled on her panties when she heard a loud knock. It wasn't even 8:00am yet; it had to be the painters, but who the hell ever heard of a contractor coming early? She grabbed a housedress out of the closet and slipped it on over her head, running a hand repeatedly through her short blonde hair as she ran to the front door.

She yanked it open to find three earnest and sober looking men standing on her stoop. Two were definitely older – Bev guessed mid to late 40's - and one was probably nearer Bev's age, around 35. They wore the traditional painter's outfit: white t-shirt, white denim pants, work boots, and caps. They were all shorter than Bev, but at 5'11" she was used to towering over people.

"Mrs. Matthews?" one of the older men asked.

She nodded. He licked his lips nervously. 

"Ma'am, we're from Cudgins Painters." He seemed to have trouble meeting her eyes. "I'm Ryan, and this is Chris," he said, gesturing to the other older man. "The other fellow there, that's Ryan, too. Most people just call him Junior – no relation." 

He snickered at the inside joke, like he probably did every time he told it. Bev smiled politely and opened the door wider, stepping back to admit them. Ryan, the one who'd done all the talking, had the sides of his head shaved military-close, the stubble mostly black with a smattering of gray. His eyes were set far apart and continued to flit around nervously, like he was afraid he'd be caught doing something he wasn't supposed to be doing. He had a weak jaw that had never been rugged, and his body was the type that had seen its best days, but looked like it might be struggling to hold on to some semblance of shape and vigor despite the onset of middle age.

Chris was a different story. Shorter than the others, the sides of his head were clean-shaven, and Bev suspected that the rest of his head was the same. His face was square with so little visible hair that at first it looked like he didn't even have any eyebrows. Upon closer inspection Bev was able to discern faint white blonde wisps above deep set green eyes that were also jumping around frantically. His cheekbones were prominent and his nose slightly bent, like maybe he'd been on the losing end of his share of bar fights in his youth, although Bev couldn't see how. His body was compact but well muscled, his chest and abs firm and obviously developed even through his t-shirt. He stood with the easy grace of someone who was used to being athletic, and despite their obvious age difference Bev could not help noticing how attractive he was.

The third member of the crew looked out of place next to the other two. True to his name, Junior's face reflected the wide-open innocence of youth. His shoulder length brown hair was pulled back in a short ponytail, and his body was round and soft looking – exercise for this guy probably consisted of flipping through channels. He wasn't exactly flabby, but he was also a long way from a hard body. Standing there with his doe-like brown eyes cast downward, Bev questioned her original assessment that they were around the same age; he seemed younger, more childlike. Then he looked up at her and fixed her with a look of such raw sexuality that she felt goose bumps, and she decided to stick by her earlier estimate.

The three men filed past her, taking great pains not to brush against her. Puzzled, she followed them in and closed the door behind her, and caught a glimpse of herself in the hallway mirror.

Her neck and cheeks colored as she stared at her reflection. The dress she'd grabbed wasn't really a dress – it was more like a sheer smock, designed to be worn as a cover-up over a unitard or bathing suit. She could plainly see her panties, blonde pubic hair curling around the edges, and her breasts swelled heavily behind the thin material. Her nipples, normally a bright pink, deepened in color and hardened at the realization that standing in the doorway with the sun shining through she might as well have been naked. That's why they'd given her all those funny looks.

Bev felt her cheeks grow hot. She was still self-conscious about her body – it had taken an incredible amount of courage to show herself naked on cam. In addition to being tall, she was what men often called "thick"; large, heavy breasts, full hips, straight waist – she was never going to be mistaken for a Barbie Doll. Her stomach was a little fuller, her thighs a little larger, than the women you saw reclining in magazines, but she'd learned over the last few months to accept who she was as well as who she wasn't.

She wrestled with what she should do. She was embarrassed that she'd exposed herself to these strangers. But she also couldn't help wondering if the responses she'd received from her online lovers were an anomaly, the desperate words of desperate people. She had an opportunity to determine if she could still arouse real live men, to prove to herself that she was sexy and attractive. 

Before she lost her nerve she reached under the smock and pulled her panties off. It was a weird feeling, knowing she was clothed but seeing her whole body exposed in the mirror. Taking a deep breath she joined the painters in the living room.

Ryan and Junior were sitting patiently on the sofa, while Chris stood nearby surveying the room. All three jaws dropped as she settled into the easy chair across from them. Her cheeks reddened some but she was determined to act as if everything were perfectly normal.

"So, how long do you think, it's going to take?" she addressed Ryan, forcing herself to meet his eyes.

He cleared his throat uncomfortably while he rifled through a multi-page contract on his lap.

"Whole house, every room, right?"

She nodded, causing her tits to jiggle slightly. Junior sighed.

"Well, after you show us what colors you want and where you want them, it'll take a day or so to get the paints mixed. Then probably a week to ten days to paint, especially since we need to use two coats of pussy."

As soon as the word left his mouth he turned crimson. Chris managed to keep his face impassive through great effort, but Junior snorted so hard snot came out of his nose. Bev smiled.

"You really think ten days is enough time to apply to coats of paint?" she asked as if he'd said it correctly. 

Her nipples were two blazing circles, standing out thick and prominent under the smock. She could feel her pussy moistening the more attention they gave her.

Ryan shrugged, afraid to open his mouth and risk saying something else inappropriate. She stood and led them through the house, showing them the colors she and Paul had agreed on for all of the rooms. Every chance she got she raised her arm to point out something, or bent over to pick something up, or brushed against one of them.

By 10:00am she'd finished the walkthrough and was flushed again, only this time not from embarrassment. She bent over the kitchen table, her ass pointed at the men, and signed the contract. Juice from her pussy dribbled down the inside of her leg and she prolonged the signature, letting the painters get a good long look at the result of her arousal. When she turned to hand Ryan the contract, she was pleased to see that each man had a noticeable bulge.

"I'm looking very forward to working with you," she said sweetly as she walked them to the door.

Closing it behind them she slumped against it and fingered herself to her first orgasm of the morning. 

*******

Disclaimer: 

This story is a work fiction. None of the characters or events herein are based on real people, either living or dead. 

It was produced for the entertainment of ADULTS ONLY, and contains descriptions of explicit sex. If you are not an adult, or if reading stories of a sexual nature upsets you, do not read any further! 

By reading it, you certify that you have accessed/requested access to this material willfully, and that you are an adult 21 years of age or older. 

You also certify that you are NOT a city, county, state, or federal law enforcement officer, official of the United States Postal Service, acting in the capacity of a representative of a telecommunications firm, and that, to your knowledge, this material does not offend the standards in your area, nor is it in violation of any of local, state, or federal law. 

No animals were harmed in the manufacture of this product.  



Work Ethic Ch. 2



Author's Note: 

This story was originally distributed as 6 chapters. 

It may not be reproduced in any form for profit without the written permission of the author. 

This story may be freely distributed with this notice attached, as long as no charge is made for it and it isn't changed in any way. If it is archived or displayed, it is done so with the understanding that the author will have unrestricted access to the archive or posting. 

Please address all feedback, inquiries, marriage proposals, etc. to the author. 

*******

For the rest of the day her every thought was consumed with the memory of her "show". Up until now, a computer screen had always separated her from her "playmates". Suddenly, she'd discovered that there were other people who also wanted to play, people who would probably do a lot more than watch if given the chance. 

In the 10 years she'd been married to Paul she'd never once thought about cheating. Even in the last few months, although she enjoyed the attention, she'd never thought of meeting up with any of her cyber-lovers. But now she found herself thinking very hard about what it might be like to fuck someone other than her husband, and she was having a hard time pushing the thoughts out of her mind.

The following day it got so bad that she finally gave in – at least mentally. She was in the guest room, sitting in front of the computer and waiting for it to boot up. She felt that familiar throb between her legs, only this time it felt stronger, more insistent. 

She moved to the guest bed and opened her robe. Sitting down and closing her eyes Bev trailed her fingers over the smoothness of her breasts, teeth chattering as her nipples hardened, the computer all but forgotten. She spread her legs, letting the air caress her pussy lips as she continued to rub and massage herself, limiting her touch just to her breasts and swelling nipples. 

Unbidden, images of the three painters leapt to her mind, surprising her. She could see the younger one, Junior, leering at her, his mouth turned up in a satisfied grin. In her thoughts, he reached a large, paint-splattered hand toward her, his forearm deeply tanned from working outdoors, and fastened on her aching nipple. 

In real life, her own hand imitated the motion, clamping viselike on the small, fleshy nub and pulling it away from her body. She fell back, legs splayed, robe wide, as she pulled and squeezed on her own nipples, imagining it was Junior.

As the scene in her mind unfolded, Ryan and Chris materialized next to her and guided her over to the sofa while Junior miraculously managed to hold tight to her throbbing nipple. Once they had her positioned, Chris took his hand, strong yet gentle, and moved it down her stomach, caressing the folds and dimples, until he reached her warm, moist crotch. Gently, he spread her labia. Bev's own hand performed the actual movements, playing wetly with her inner lips. 

Her head rolled from side to side, so lost in the fantasy that she barely heard the telephone ring. Disoriented, she lumbered to her feet, walked over to the desk, and snatched up the receiver.

"Hello!" she barked in an irritated tone.

"Honey? It's me Paul – is everything all right?

Bev fought to clear her head, get herself under control.

"Hi Sweetheart, I'm fine. I was…napping. I wasn't totally awake when I picked up the phone."

They talked for another 10 minutes before Paul rang off. He liked to check in every morning – Bev suspected he found motivation just in talking to her, a reminder of why he was pushing himself so hard. She almost felt guilty about what she'd been thinking about.

Still standing at the desk in front of the computer, she shrugged off her robe and sat down. She searched for someone to play with but couldn't find anyone that she was really interested in. 

Pulling open one of the desk drawers, she rooted around until she found a box of sanitary napkins, opened it, and extracted the vibrator she kept hidden there. It was shaped like a cock, flesh colored and 6" long. It was almost as thick as a tube of toothpaste, and very much resembled her husband's cock. She knew Paul would never find it hidden there; he wouldn't even walk down the feminine products aisle in the grocery store.

She went back over to the bed and got up on her hands and knees, summoning thoughts of the three painters again. In her fantasy Chris' cock was nice and hard and ready to enter her. She switched on the vibrator and placed the tip at the entrance to her pussy. She eased it in, groaning at how good it felt. As she rode Chris in her fantasy she pumped the vibrator in and out of her pussy, taking long slow strokes.

She imagined Chris holding her close as Ryan appeared in back of her, sliding the tip of his cock along her asshole. She tensed, afraid of the invasion, even as he slowly pressed it in.

Her fantasies had never taken her here before. She and Paul had never tried anal. Neither of them had ever expressed an interest in it, yet here she was with her middle finger pushing against her asshole imagining that she's part of some hot threesome. She felt her finger slide in, sat still for a moment, blinking rapidly as she adjusted to this new sensation. Slowly she moved it in and out, gripping it tightly with her ass. 

In her mind, the two men fucked her rhythmically, one pulling out of one hole as the other pushed in another. As she did the same with her finger and the vibrator she felt an orgasm start to build in the pit of her groin that promised to be memorable.

She picked up her pace, fingering her ass and pumping the vibrator so hard the bed shook. She was ramming the vibrator in as deep as it would go, threatening on several occasions to lose her grip on it. Her orgasm came hard and fast, her finger in up to the knuckle, vibrator out but preparing to thrust inward. Her body went rigid, the force and the intensity of the feelings pushing her down into the bed. She opened her mouth to moan but no sound came out, and it felt like her whole body was trapped in electrified Jell-O.

Then, as if someone flicked a switch, her hips started bucking violently, knocking the vibrator from her hand. She fucked the bed like it was a man, humping and pounding, urging an unseen lover deeper. The bed crashed violently against the wall and the covers all came untucked. By the time she settled down it felt like she'd been gang banged by a football team. 

Under her the bed was so wet it squished when she shifted. Had she peed herself? That couldn't be cum – she'd never been that messy before! Gingerly she dabbed at it and brought her hand to her nose. Holy shit, it was cum! Oh man!

Bev tried to be good the rest of the day, avoiding the computer, and her toy, and even refrained from touching herself. She was out of control, her need and her craving taking over so completely that she could now almost come just by thinking about sex. She thought that if she could go the day without another "episode", maybe she could pull herself back a little from the abyss. Otherwise, she was frightened about what the next step would be.

By the time Paul got home that night she was so horny she was ready to fuck a door handle. As usual, he was exhausted, but she didn't care. She needed a cock, and one that just laid there was better than none at all. Even with his lack of participation she came twice before he did. By the time she rolled off of him he was asleep, and even sucking his dick clean wasn't enough to rouse him or raise another hard on.

She got out of bed and went into the guestroom, searching frantically online for someone to help her get satisfaction. She played with anyone who wanted to – men, women, couples - every orgasm made her ache for another until finally, sore and worn out, she crawled back in bed next to her snoring husband and slipped into a deep and well earned sleep.

When the painters arrived the next day Bev had resolved not to act on her urges, although she didn't see any reason not to have a little fun. She answered the door wearing a XXL men's button down shirt (with the top 4 buttons unbuttoned) and nothing else. She took every opportunity to bend over, letting her breasts spill out, and giving them glimpses of her pussy, especially as she got wetter and small droplets of juice clung to her honey colored pubic hair.

Throughout the day the painters made frequent trips out to their truck, often taking 10 minutes or more before returning. Giggling, she walked past Junior, who took one whiff of the heavy sex smell drifting off her and promptly went outside, even though he'd only recently returned from the truck.

On Thursday she moved it up a notch. Wearing a similar outfit, she spent a great deal of time looking over their shoulders, pressing against them, rubbing her body on theirs. Bev knew they could feel the heat from her crotch and was impressed at how much they struggled not to react. Initially they tried to hide their hardons, but soon accepted that they were going to be aroused for most of the day and submitted to their torture gracefully.

*******

Disclaimer: 

This story is a work fiction. None of the characters or events herein are based on real people, either living or dead. 

It was produced for the entertainment of ADULTS ONLY, and contains descriptions of explicit sex. If you are not an adult, or if reading stories of a sexual nature upsets you, do not read any further! 

By reading it, you certify that you have accessed/requested access to this material willfully, and that you are an adult 21 years of age or older. 

You also certify that you are NOT a city, county, state, or federal law enforcement officer, official of the United States Postal Service, acting in the capacity of a representative of a telecommunications firm, and that, to your knowledge, this material does not offend the standards in your area, nor is it in violation of any of local, state, or federal law. 

No animals were harmed in the manufacture of this product. 



Work Ethic Ch. 3



Author's Note: 

This story was originally distributed as 6 chapters. 

It may not be reproduced in any form for profit without the written permission of the author. 

This story may be freely distributed with this notice attached, as long as no charge is made for it and it isn't changed in any way. If it is archived or displayed, it is done so with the understanding that the author will have unrestricted access to the archive or posting. 

Please address all feedback, inquiries, marriage proposals, etc. to the author. 

*******

On Friday, the pressure got to be too much for her. For the past two days there was always someone around – either the painters or Paul. She hadn't been able to get herself off since the marathon session on Tuesday night, and her pussy was aching for relief. 

She made sure she was up early so that she could play on the computer before the painters arrived. The wonderful thing about the Internet is that there is always someone awake someplace, and it wasn't long before she was able to find a willing playmate. 

The first person she encountered was a man in Australia that loved women to watch him suck himself. Bev was able to come nicely while watching this rather impressive feat. The next person she found was a woman that reminded Bev of herself when she first started surfing for porn. She had a wholesome face and wore the look of someone who wanted to enjoy herself but was afraid that she was doing something wrong. 

For some reason, Bev really got off on the idea of shocking the woman, so she tried to be as raunchy as she could. She sucked on her own nipples, spread her pussy lips wide for her, and even played with her asshole a little. The woman's embarrassment quickly turned to arousal and Bev was happy to play a part in the woman's awakening.

Shifting in her seat to give the woman a better view, Bev caught a glimpse of white in the doorway. Whipping her head around she saw Ryan standing there, his mouth hanging open, his eyes burning. She'd been so involved with the woman that she hadn't heard the painters come in. 

They had a key – she'd given them one in case she wasn't home when they needed to get in to work – so it's not like they broke in, but it was so early that she thought she would have been able to have a little fun before they showed up. Their work ethic was really starting to become annoying.

She had no way to cover up; she'd come right from her bedroom naked. Ryan looked totally captivated. She had no idea how long he'd been standing there, but one look at his crotch confirmed that he liked what he saw. Bev felt her nipples harden so much they threatened to explode. 

Her next decision originated considerably south of her rational mind. She was sick of cyber, and vibrators, and her fingers. She wanted to get fucked. And not by a cock that was really little more than a warm dildo, either.

"Ryan, would you come here please? " Bev asked, keeping her voice even.

"W-w-w-we were just trying to g-g-get an early start on th-th-things," Ryan stammered.

"So was I," Bev smiled.

"Please, Mrs. Matthews," Ryan pleaded. "I didn't mean to see anything. I won't tell any…"

She stood up and motioned for him to take her seat. Onscreen, her new friend had removed her shirt and was sitting there in her bra, a puzzled expression on her face. Bev winked at her as Ryan moved into the frame.

"Who's that?" he asked, pointing to the woman's picture that took up the majority of the screen.

"You don't worry about that," Bev chided. "You have other things to be concerned with.

Swallowing hard, Ryan sat down in front of the computer. Bev rolled it back slightly so that most of Ryan was now in the frame.

"Ever played online before?"

His puzzled look answered her question.

"With this program, we can see others and they can see us. Hold on."

She turned and faced the computer, and sent a message to the woman, asking if she would like to see Bev fuck Ryan.

"Oh God YES!" came the reply.

Chuckling, she turned back to Ryan, who clearly looked uncomfortable. She straddled him and settled her wet pussy on his crotch, feeling the bulge separate her, straining to go deeper. She placed a hand behind his head and pulled his mouth toward her breast. She rolled her eyes with pleasure as she felt his lips part and his tongue dance across the pouty bud.

"Ohhh!" she hissed, pressing him closer.

He sucked on her nipple like a baby, forming a tight seal. His tongue ran quickly over it as he continued to suck harder and soon she was rocking against him, pushing his head over to the other one and knocking his cap off his head. 

Finally, she pushed away from him and knelt between his legs, unfastened his pants and tugged them over his hips. His erect cock sprang free, already leaking precum. She swallowed him whole, taking him deep in her mouth, to their mutual delight. When she had him so hard it hurt, she released him.

Bev stood up, turned, put her hands on the desk, and slowly lowered her crotch toward his lap. Ryan grabbed hold of his cock and guided it toward her entrance. When the head brushed her labia she moaned. He felt thicker than her husband, but she was so wet that she didn't think THAT would be a problem. As he pushed through, she inhaled sharply. Oh shit it felt good!

She raised her head to see what the woman onscreen was doing. The bra was now off and Bev could see that she was pinching and tugging her nipples with frantic abandon.

"That looks like it feels really good," the woman stopped playing long enough to type.

Bev nodded vigorously. Watching the woman play with herself while a strange man slid into her hole was driving her over the fucking top. She pressed down on Ryan, working more of his glorious cock into her. He grabbed her hips and pulled her farther down, making her toes curl and dig into the rug. 

On screen, the woman typed, "Oh, I wish I was getting fucked like that. I'm so wet!"

She grabbed the desk harder and moved herself along his shaft, grinding her hips down on him, pulling up until the swollen head almost popped free. His hands kept her steady as she increased the pace, responding to the coaxing and the visual of the woman on the screen.

The woman onscreen pulled the cam back some so that Bev could now see her whole body too. She had one leg up on the chair so that she could spread herself wide and was cramming two fingers inside herself at the same speed that Bev was fucking Ryan. Bev's eyes were glued to the woman's shaved pussy, swollen and glistening from all the attention. She licked her lips hungrily as the sweat spilled over her, pooling on the tips of her heavy breasts before splashing on the desk and splattering the rug.

Ryan was grunting now, showing surprising stamina for a man his age. The woman onscreen arched her back as she came, holding her hand still and opening her mouth wide. Bev squeezed Ryan's cock with her pussy, slamming down on him with enough force to make the chair rattle and creak. 

She could feel him thickening between her legs, sensed he was as close as she was, so she increased her speed to try to take him with her. Her own orgasm was starting, and she knew that in a minute she'd be unable to do anything except let it flow over her. 

She fucked him harder, using every sex-related muscle she had, and was rewarded with a warm spurt at precisely the same moment that she felt her legs give out under her, mashing her hard onto him. She grabbed the edge of the desk in a death grip to keep from tumbling to the floor, and Ryan squeezed her hips so hard she was afraid he might leave marks that that she'd have to explain to Paul later.

With both of them still panting like they'd just run a race, Bev pulled herself to her feet and wobbled back to her bedroom. As she showered, her mind returned constantly to what had just happened. That line she'd been walking for the last few months wasn't blurry any longer; she'd just jumped over it with both feet.

She still loved Paul, and couldn't imagine being married to anyone else. But this was a physical need, one that had been building for so long, and one that Paul either couldn't or wouldn't satisfy. Ryan happened to be in the right place at the right time, had shown her the attention she'd been trying to get from her husband for more than six months. She wasn't even sure that Ryan was that good a lover – sure she'd come, and come hard, but it was more as a result of finally having enthusiastic male contact than any particular technique.

Even as she wrestled with the morality of her action her hand trailed down between her legs. Her pussy still throbbed softly, and before she knew it she was laying in the tub, the shower spray torturing her clit while she fingered herself to another orgasm. Her moans had to carry throughout the house but she couldn't control them. She was on fire.

She dressed quickly and headed out, afraid of what might happen if she stayed in the house all day with these men. She drove around town, playing between her legs the whole time, until exhaustion threatened to make her have an accident.

She arrived back home in time to see Paul walking the painters to the van. Bev was suddenly seized by an irrational fear: What if Ryan said something? Paul was several inches taller than Bev and a bear of a man. His dark red hair and beard made him look like a lumberjack, an image further reinforced by his love of plaid shirts. He wasn't a bodybuilder by any means but his job working for the Department of Transportation on a road crew kept him fit. She shook her head – nobody was stupid enough to piss Paul off intentionally.

She sat in her car watching the men laugh and smile, composing herself until the van sped away. Paul was waiting for her when she came through the door.

"Honey, those painters are fantastic. Take a look!"

Bev did. Paint cloths were draped everywhere, but it was obvious that they had made incredible progress. She was impressed. Maybe leaving was a good idea for more reasons than one.

"They said they really got into a rhythm. The lead guy, Ryan, said he felt so inspired that he wanted to bring the crew back tomorrow so that they wouldn't lose momentum."

"Tomorrow?" she asked uneasily. 

Paul shrugged. "Hey, we don't pay by the hour. If they want to work on Saturday, I'm not going to complain."

*******

Disclaimer: 

This story is a work fiction. None of the characters or events herein are based on real people, either living or dead. 

It was produced for the entertainment of ADULTS ONLY, and contains descriptions of explicit sex. If you are not an adult, or if reading stories of a sexual nature upsets you, do not read any further! 

By reading it, you certify that you have accessed/requested access to this material willfully, and that you are an adult 21 years of age or older. 

You also certify that you are NOT a city, county, state, or federal law enforcement officer, official of the United States Postal Service, acting in the capacity of a representative of a telecommunications firm, and that, to your knowledge, this material does not offend the standards in your area, nor is it in violation of any of local, state, or federal law. 

No animals were harmed in the manufacture of this product.



Work Ethic Ch. 4



©January 2002 by Bob Peale

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. 

Author's Note: 

This story was originally distributed as 6 chapters. 

It may not be reproduced in any form for profit without the written permission of the author. 

This story may be freely distributed with this notice attached, as long as no charge is made for it and it isn't changed in any way. If it is archived or displayed, it is done so with the understanding that the author will have unrestricted access to the archive or posting. 

Please address all feedback, inquiries, marriage proposals, etc. to the author.

*******

Bev tried not to let show how much the idea of being in the house with Ryan AND Paul terrified her. But that night, lying in bed next to Paul, all she could think about was fucking Ryan! 

His cock had felt so thick, so nice, lodged between her legs. And being watched – goddamn that had been hot! She reached under the sheet and gently rubbed herself through her panties. The cotton was so wet it felt like she was holding a sponge down there.

Her hips and quads ached from struggling to hold still. She didn't want to wake Paul, didn't want to explain why she was so horny again. Her fingers sped over her covered mound, teasing her lips and clit, but she managed to keep her arm and wrist stationary. When the white-hot blaze of her orgasm struck she let out a soft low cry and stuffed the palm of her free hand in her mouth. 

It felt like someone had turned on a faucet deep inside her; hot sticky liquid squirted out and soaked the bed under her. She so wanted to thrash her head, spread her legs wide, stuff her fingers in deep, ride it out like a bucking bronco, but of course she didn't dare. Instead, she continued rubbing and stroking herself softly through her panties, tears of pleasure and frustration streaming down her cheeks until she collapsed into a labored, tortured sleep.

If Paul noticed the thick smell of sex or the still wet spot on her side of the bed the next morning he didn't let on. The first thing she did while he was in the shower was strip the bed, flip the mattress and replace the mattress pad and linens. 

As was their practice, Cudgins Painters showed up promptly at the crack of dawn (8:00am to normal people), while Bev was making breakfast.

"Mmm mmm, that smells good," Ryan said pointedly as he brushed passed her.

"She sure can cook," Paul agreed.

Bev felt her face flush. She didn't think Ryan was referring to the bacon she was frying, and Paul's innocent corroboration made the comment sound that much more lecherous.

She was wearing a threadbare teddie under a thin robe. She'd put off showering until after breakfast - now she wasn't so sure that had been such a good idea. 

While she and Paul ate breakfast the painters attended to their prep tasks.

"So, what's on your agenda today?" she asked, trying to sound casual even though her mind was already reeling.

Paul shrugged. "Well, can't watch TV with them painting. Maybe I'll work on bills and catch up on some paperwork."

"I was thinking of going food shopping. Is there anything you need me to pick up?" 

As soon as she set eyes on Ryan again she knew it would not be a good idea to stay in the house. The temptation was building so strong now that he was here in the flesh. Already it was taking every ounce of willpower she had not to reach under the table and play with her pussy.

Paul shook his head. "Sorry hon, we're running a little low on cash. You'll have to wait until next week when I get paid. I've put in a lot of time, so we should have a big check coming."

He stood up and kissed her on the forehead and exited the kitchen.

Fuck, she thought as she cleaned up the dishes. She looked out of the window: cloudy and gray. A storm was coming – she couldn't even hide out in the yard and do yard work. 

In the hallway she walked past Junior and he pressed against her meaningfully. She felt two successive waves of arousal: one because he'd managed to rub against her nipple, and another because his actions meant that he probably knew what happened yesterday.

She showered and dressed hurriedly, deciding that her best bet would be to curl up with a book and try to forget there was anyone in the house. Retrieving one from her nightstand, she padded past the den, where Paul was hunched over his desk with papers everywhere, into the guestroom. 

She'd intended to sit in the big easy chair that had been moved in from the living room while it was being painted. Instead, she found Chris, his white tank top soaked down the middle with sweat, painters cap turned backwards, and his shoulders dappled with the pale blue color she and Paul had picked for this room. The chair was still here but it was covered, as was the computer and the rest of the furniture, it all pushed into the middle of the room.

She stood there, watching his muscles alternately bunch and flex as he applied the paint. She was so hypnotized by the slow even motion of the roller and the liquid movements of his body that she didn't register that he had turned around and was staring at her until he called her name several times.

"Sorry," Bev apologized. "I didn't sleep well at all."

He placed the roller in a drip pan at his feet and walked toward her. She sidestepped and backed up until she was in the corner, unable to go any further.

"You seem tense," he said placing a hand on one side of her. "That can't be good."

He was standing less than 3 inches from her. She could smell his sweat as well as the sharp sweet icy scent of his breath mint. And underneath, another smell, this one more primordial, more base.

She shook her head weakly. "I'm fine Chris, honest. It'll pass."

He raised one eyebrow as if to say, "What do you think I am, stupid?"

"Chris, we can't. As much as I may want to, my husband is just on the other side of this wall," she whispered.

Chris flashed her a simple, innocent smile.

"Then I guess we'd better be quiet."

He reached out with his other hand and unbuttoned her blouse, then freed her breast from the cup of her bra. Her nipples were already dark and protruding; any further protests would have been an insult to his intelligence.

Bev felt a delicious feeling of expectation. That little voice that is supposed to keep you out of trouble shouted that she was crazy – how could Paul not hear them? But she was as prepared to put a stop to this as she was to walk on the moon. 

Chris cupped her left breast. His touch was so warm it burned, but she found herself leaning into it, trying to force more of her breast into his palm. With the same easy precision she observed earlier painting the wall he ran a thumb over the distended nipple, strumming, unlocking feelings that Bev had been struggling to suppress for almost 24 hours. She arched her back, struggling to find a way to derive even more pleasure from his manipulations.

"Do you want me to stop?" he whispered quietly.

She'd be crazy to let this end! He squeezed the nipple and Bev had to fight back the urge to collapse in a puddle of orgasmic bliss. She felt like a woman holding tight to the side of a house while a tornado blew over.

Chris moved closer, his face level with the center valley of her cleavage. Switching hands, he now held her right breast. He ran the light, invisible stubble of his face across the soft flesh and she started to pant. Darting rapidly, he moved his tongue from first one nipple then the other, and Bev had to hold on to his shoulders for support. A moan bubbled out from between her lips.

"Honey, are you alright?" Paul called from next door. "What's wrong?"

She felt her heart gripped by panic even as she spread her legs.

"I'm fine honey," she yelled, maybe a bit too loudly. "My foot fell asleep and I tried to stand on it."

"Are you hurt? Do you need help?"

"No," she shouted, her voice bordering on a scream. "I was just surprised."

Mentally, she begged him to stay in his den. 

"Okay. But call me if you need anything."

She would have slumped against the wall with relief if Chris hadn't chosen that moment to slide a thick finger under the elastic of her panties and drag it upward until it brushed her clit. Oh shit, was he trying to get them caught?

He stroked between her legs firmly, alternating his mouth between her breasts as he did. She wondered why Paul hadn't said something; surely he heard them. That thought raised her arousal to fever pitch.

Outside, the gentle mist turned into a first rate downpour. Rain battered against the side of the house, the staccato pulse matching the hammering in her chest. The wall was vibrating and she prayed it was from the torrential downpour and not the product of their sex play.

Suddenly the room filled with a violent flash of light, so bright it looked like sunlight. Seizing the opportunity, Chris stuffed first one then another meaty finger in her pussy and twisted them both as the light waned. Unable to control herself Bev let out a deep groan as thunder boomed, shaking the house as it was plunged into total darkness.

Sweating, Bev shook as she continued to come, slumping against Chris as her body was wracked with the intense physical sensations of her orgasm.

Even before she was done Chris lowered her to the floor and quietly slipped out of the room. Several minutes later a flashlight beam swept the inside of the room, settling on her sprawled form, and Paul came running into the room.

"Sweetheart, are you alright?" he asked, his concern obvious.

She nodded, her eyes fluttering open. 

"I guess I tripped when the lights went out. I'm fine honey, thanks."

"That was some fall. You're all disheveled," he said, pointing to her blouse.

He helped her to her feet and they made their way into their bedroom. Ryan called out that they had lanterns in the truck and that they'd like to keep working. Paul got Bev comfortable and went out to discuss it with them. She was asleep before he got out the door.

*******

Disclaimer: 

This story is a work fiction. None of the characters or events herein are based on real people, either living or dead. 

It was produced for the entertainment of ADULTS ONLY, and contains descriptions of explicit sex. If you are not an adult, or if reading stories of a sexual nature upsets you, do not read any further! 

By reading it, you certify that you have accessed/requested access to this material willfully, and that you are an adult 21 years of age or older. 

You also certify that you are NOT a city, county, state, or federal law enforcement officer, official of the United States Postal Service, acting in the capacity of a representative of a telecommunications firm, and that, to your knowledge, this material does not offend the standards in your area, nor is it in violation of any of local, state, or federal law. 

No animals were harmed in the manufacture of this product. 



Work Ethic Ch. 5



©January 2002 by Bob Peale ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. 

Author's Note: 

This story was originally distributed as 6 chapters. 

It may not be reproduced in any form for profit without the written permission of the author. 

This story may be freely distributed with this notice attached, as long as no charge is made for it and it isn't changed in any way. If it is archived or displayed, it is done so with the understanding that the author will have unrestricted access to the archive or posting. 

Please address all feedback, inquiries, marriage proposals, etc. to the author. 

*******

Mercifully they did not show up on Sunday, and Bev never got out of bed. The events of the last few days had taken their toll. She was exhausted, totally drained, and still feeling very guilty. She really was happy with Paul; although she liked the attention she got from other people, she'd never intended to act on any of it.

Tuesday night/Wednesday morning Bev had the most amazing dream. In it, the three painters came into her bathroom while she was showering, led her out still wet into her bedroom, and positioned her on her bed. Holding her arms wide, one of them spread her legs and started favoring her with long slow licks, totally saturating her outer lips and light downy pubic hair with warm saliva.

Waking, she opened her eyes lazily, the residue from her dream still with her enough that she could feel a tongue probing between her legs. In the dawning light of early morning she was able to discern two things: one, that she wasn't alone; and two, that her guests were naked. Chris and Ryan were standing at the foot of her bed looking at her, cocks hard, stroking purposefully. 

Black and gray hair covered Ryan's chest and legs. His feet were spread wide as he handled his cock like a club, holding it thickly. This was the first time she'd actually seen Chris nude, but his body looked pretty much like she'd expected – lean and muscular, relatively hairless. His cock was longer than Ryan's but only about half as thick. 

And the reason she still felt the gentle licks between her legs as she woke was because Junior WAS between them, his face firmly pressed against her sex, his hair tickling her inner thigh, and his tongue lapping at her feverishly. They'd undressed her while she slept, removing her nightgown and panties without making her stir. 

Her first impulse was to cover her hands with her chest, but all that accomplished was to make her squirm when she came in contact with her nipples. She reached down to push Junior away but her hands rebelled, pulling him closer instead. He responded eagerly, using his tongue to part her lips and swirl around inside. She made soft mewling sounds, so totally given over to it that she draped her legs over his shoulders to grant him better access.

Chris and Ryan smiled and joined them on the bed, positioning themselves so that they were kneeling by her head. She opened her mouth to protest and instead moaned uncontrollably as both men reached down and trapped a nipple between thumb and forefinger. All three took her response as encouragement so Chris and Ryan pinched harder and Junior nibbled on her clit. She gasped, her breath ragged, her chest aching, aware that she was about to experience what she had been dreaming about.

She reached up and grabbed Chris and Ryan's hard cocks in her hand, jacking them off because it felt like the right thing to do. The sound of the telephone cut through them like a knife, causing all four of them to freeze, collectively hoping that they were imagining it. The phone continued to ring until Ryan leaned over and answered it.

"Matthews residence, can I help you?" He paused for a moment. "This is Ryan Cudgins." Another pause. "Why yes, hello Mr. Matthews, that's right, bright and early sir," he chuckled. 

Bev was impressed with how calm he'd managed to sound.

"I'm not sure, where she is sir. I listened to the phone ring, then picked it up when no one answered."

Bev could hear the muted sounds of Paul's voice on the other end, but couldn't tell what he was saying, or even tell his mood. She felt like someone who had been narrowly missed by a bus speeding down the street.

"Oh wait a second, Mr. Matthews, here she comes. Mrs. Matthews, your husband is on the phone," Ryan said innocently, extending the phone to Bev.

She had to release his cock to take the phone. Her palm was warm and sweaty from gripping it so long.

"Hi honey, what's up?" she asked.

"You sound out of breath. Where were you?" he asked quizzically.

"I was out back, reading the paper," she lied.

"This early? It's barely 6:30."

"The paint smell was getting to me."

"Yeah, I know what you mean. But I'd hate to do anything to quench their enthusiasm. Those guys are great!" Paul gushed. "I've never seen anyone go so far to make sure their client is taken care of."

"Yes, they definitely are full service," Bev agreed.

Chris removed his cock from her other hand and both men slid down until they were suckling on her breasts. Between her legs Junior continued to favor her with his tongue, adding a finger in her ass as he did.

She was going to come, especially if she stayed on the phone much longer. The fact that she had these wonderful men pleasuring her with their mouths while she talked to her husband was too much. She raised her hips, tightening her grip on the finger in her ass and forcing her pussy tighter against Junior's mouth. She opened her mouth repeatedly in silent moans as Chris and Ryan chewed on her swollen nipples, afraid that she'd start panting soon.

"I was hoping we could spend some time together today," Paul said tentatively.

"Today?" she croaked. "But you're coming off another double."

Junior was taking advantage of her need to concentrate on her end of the conversation, licking and sucking on her labia as he slowly pumped his finger in and out of her asshole. Her legs twitched under the strain of holding her position, and she prayed that she could get Paul off the phone before she gave herself away. 

The two men on her breasts sucked and tongued her nipples with such enthusiasm that it felt like they were trying to coax milk from them. Just when she thought she'd gotten herself calm, Junior slipped another finger in her ass and her body collapsed, waves of pleasure overwhelming her. He sped up his movements, pushing the fingers in as far as they would go then withdrawing them until the tips tickled the edge of her hole. Her eyes widened as he spread and stretched her, twisting and bending his fingers to make it easier for them to go in.

"I know, but I feel great! This morning the supervisor called me into his office, and the night manager was waiting for me. The manager did all of the talking, said he'd noticed that I was putting in a lot of hours lately, and they were concerned that I was running myself ragged, that my work might suffer. I explained that since you lost your job, I'd had to work hard to make sure we could make ends meet."

It was getting harder for Bev to focus on what Paul was saying. Junior now had three fingers pumping in and out of her ass, and he had trapped her clit in his teeth and was pulling on it. Chris and Ryan each had a nipple, swollen and throbbing, in their teeth and they were sucking on them as hard as they could. Warm flashes swallowed her and the bed started to spin. She was on the verge of coming, and she had no idea how she was going to explain it to Paul.

"Well, they looked at each other and then he looked back at me and asked if it would be easier if I was made night dispatch supervisor."

That got her attention.

"Night Dispatch Supervisor?"

"Yep." She could almost hear him smiling through the phone. "Starting Monday. The current one got a promotion and is moving to days. With the raise and the night differential, I'll end up making MORE than I was making working doubles. Plus, it's a management position, so I'm eligible for bonuses. AND, he gave me the rest of the week off with pay to rest up."

He paused for effect. Damn him and his dramatics! She squeezed her eyes shut tight – Oh shit, it was starting!

"So I was thinking that after this shift ends in 45 minutes, maybe I could come home and we could start working on that baby you've been talking about."

"Oh God Paul!" she screamed into the phone.

The onset of her orgasm was covered by her excitement at his news and his offer. Of course, he'd contributed greatly to the orgasm just by talking about sex while she was lying with three men in their bed. Her whole body shook as she came, clenching the fingers in her ass so hard they should have broken.

"Yeah, that's kind of what I was thinking – but it's not cool for a grown man to shriek." He chuckled. "Look, let me wrap up here and I'll be home in an hour or so."

*******

Disclaimer: 

This story is a work fiction. None of the characters or events herein are based on real people, either living or dead. 

It was produced for the entertainment of ADULTS ONLY, and contains descriptions of explicit sex. If you are not an adult, or if reading stories of a sexual nature upsets you, do not read any further! 

By reading it, you certify that you have accessed/requested access to this material willfully, and that you are an adult 21 years of age or older. 

You also certify that you are NOT a city, county, state, or federal law enforcement officer, official of the United States Postal Service, acting in the capacity of a representative of a telecommunications firm, and that, to your knowledge, this material does not offend the standards in your area, nor is it in violation of any of local, state, or federal law. 

No animals were harmed in the manufacture of this product. 



Work Ethic Ch. 6



©January 2002 by Bob Peale ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. 

Author's Note: 

This story was originally distributed as 6 chapters. 

It may not be reproduced in any form for profit without the written permission of the author. 

This story may be freely distributed with this notice attached, as long as no charge is made for it and it isn't changed in any way. If it is archived or displayed, it is done so with the understanding that the author will have unrestricted access to the archive or posting. 

Please address all feedback, inquiries, marriage proposals, etc. to the author. 

*******

The line went dead and she let the phone drop over the edge of the bed. Mindful that she had to work fast, had to finish before Paul got home, she pushed Chris and Ryan away and slid out from under Junior.

"That was great," she purred. "Now get up here so I can see what other talents your have."

He scrambled up and lay on his back, in almost the same position she'd just been in, with his cock standing straight up in the air. She felt her pussy juice at the thought of being impaled on it – her mind was focused on nothing else. 

Moving deftly she straddled him, the liquid dripping on his cock head, and slowly lowered herself onto him. She was so well lubricated that he slid easily into her, the walls of her pussy gripping him tightly as she inched along his shaft. Her breath caught in her throat as the feeling of fullness between her legs spread outward. She fought the urge to cram his cock into her as fast as she could. Instead she savored it, loving how hot and hard it felt inside her.

She looked down at him and saw that his eyes were closed, a beatific smile playing across his features. His hair fanned out across the pillow, his mouth parted, his back slightly arched. His chest was a mass of brown hair save for two hard pink nipples the size of pencil erasers. 

Bending forward Bev sucked one into her mouth, her pussy clenching as her mouth filled with his salty, musky taste. He thrust his hips slowly, working his cock deep. That little voice in her head screamed for her to hurry, that Paul would be home before she knew it. The thought made her pussy contract again, and Junior moaned.

Lost in the gentle rocking motions, she'd forgotten that others were present until she felt something warm and soft against her asshole. Junior had maneuvered her so that she was laying on top of him, just like she'd done with Chris in her dream last week, her face buried in his neck, her knees on either side of him and his cock pistoning in and out of her steadily. Her pussy clung to him, the head of his cock dragging thickly against her inner walls, and she would have been happy to stay like this forever, but the men had other plans.

The thing at her asshole pushed forward, swelling then narrowing slightly. She shivered as a cock entered her ass for the first time, amazed at how, other than a little tightness, it burrowed in easily. Two hands on her hips helped guide it deeper, until she felt like cock was spilling out of her everywhere. She felt the two cocks rub each other through the thin wall separating her holes, and both men grunted with undisguised stimulation. She shook steadily as an orgasm started, gripping both cocks in the throes of her passion.

She raised her head and encountered Ryan's cock standing invitingly just beyond her nose. She opened her mouth and let him slide his thickness in. She was unable to grab hold, needing her hands to brace herself and avoid crushing Junior under her, but she gobbled him greedily, running her tongue wetly over the entire surface. He placed his hands on either side of her head to steady it and began fucking her face, forcing his cock into her throat and making her grunt with the force of his thrusts.

All her holes were filled now, the men finding a rhythm that, mixed with the moans, made the room sound like an orgiastic machine. For her part Bev tried to give as much pleasure as she was getting. It felt like she was a virgin again, she was so tight and sensitive. And it was clear that the men were enjoying her – their moans were as loud as hers.

Every stroke, every thrust ticked off the seconds until Paul would be home. Her chest pressed heavily into Junior's thatch of hair, teasing and abrading the nipples. In her mind's eye she saw his car pull up, happening upon his wife full of cock. 

She let out a whimper as she came, clenching and shaking as the internal explosions rocked her. She would have screamed loud enough to bring the neighbors running but almost all sound was cut off by Ryan's cock wedged in her throat. Chris was no match for the pressure she exerted on his cock in her ass and he joined her, filling her ass with gobs of gooey cum as he slammed into her ass repeatedly.

When he was done he withdrew his cock gingerly. He was so sore from his efforts that he actually winced as it slid past her still twitching hole. Empty, Bev's asshole clutched at the air, wide and gaping, Chris' cum oozing out and drooling between her legs, coating Junior's cock and balls as he continued to fuck her equally tight pussy. With newfound lubrication Junior slid in even deeper, grabbing Bev's hips so that he could get maximum leverage. She sucked on Ryan's cock like a Popsicle, trying to hold as much in her mouth as she could.

Free of Chris' cock in her ass, Bev was able to sit up, letting her press her groin even harder against Junior. Ryan followed her, standing and straddling Junior so that he could continue to feed Bev his cock. In this position, Bev controlled the fucking, so Junior was free to reach up and grab her tits, twisting the nipples clumsily while she ground his cock into her. 

This action stimulated Bev's clit so much that her pussy literally snapped at Junior's cock. She was rewarded with a warm stream of cum deep in her pussy that set off yet another orgasm. She bucked up and down, causing even more cum to spill from him, and it was all Ryan could do to keep his cock in her mouth as he too came. The whole effort required extraordinary coordination on their part, so it wasn't surprising that some of Ryan's cum spilled out of her mouth and dribbled on Junior's chest.

When he was done Ryan hopped down off the bed and got dressed. Chris and Junior followed suit, but Bev just lay there listening as they got on with the work of the day, her pussy and ass and tits throbbing pleasantly.

She heard Paul's car pull in the driveway, this time for real and not the product of her over active imagination. She jumped up and stripped the bed as fast as she could, tossing everything in a pile in the corner; she'd claim she was doing laundry (again!). Then she ran into the bathroom, trying not to let any cum get on anything, and cleaned up as best she could. When she came back out into the bedroom, Paul was on the bare bed, his cock rock hard.

"Smells like you started without me," he joked. "Want to take a break and fuck the new Night Dispatch Supervisor?" he asked, waving his cock at her.

She smiled and shook her head, despite the twinge she felt between her legs. "Honey, I really have to finish up around here."

He leapt off the bed like an 18 year old. Before she knew what was happening he was kissing her deeply, his cock pressing against her. His tongue traveled all over her mouth, making her think of Ryan's cock. She moaned.

He spun her around and bent her over the bed, pulling open her robe and entering her easily, his cock aided by her juices and Junior's cum.

"Damn baby, you're so wet," he marveled.

She couldn't believe that this was her husband fucking her like they were in a porno movie, plowing where another man's cock had just been. He pressed on her back, forcing her into the bed as he took long slow strokes. Impossibly, it felt like his cock had doubled in size – she was soon struggling to take a breath as he pounded into her, feeling like she was fucking him for the fist time. 

Her nipples, rock hard, rubbed roughly against the coarse material of the bare mattress, and she was moaning now as loud as she had been when the painters had fucked her earlier. That memory sent a sharp spark of pleasure coursing through her, to be followed by a more substantial burst as Paul erupted in her, filling her so full that cum splashed out and splattered both of them.

Exhausted, he fell on top of her, his cock still buried and twitching inside her. He kissed her neck tenderly, taking care not to move too much, so as not to work his cock loose. 

She rolled him over so that he was on his back, her pussy achingly empty, and knelt between his legs. Sucking him clean, her nipples hardened again as she tasted him, and her (and Junior she suspected). She reached down, and fingered herself as her husband grew hard again in her mouth.

And of course Bev couldn't help wondering (while finger fucking herself with her husband's dick in her mouth) what the painters would think if they just happened by. Would she get the chance to try to take care of four cocks at once?

The thought made her shiver as she climbed up on Paul for Round 2. 

*******

Disclaimer: 

This story is a work fiction. None of the characters or events herein are based on real people, either living or dead. 

It was produced for the entertainment of ADULTS ONLY, and contains descriptions of explicit sex. If you are not an adult, or if reading stories of a sexual nature upsets you, do not read any further! 

By reading it, you certify that you have accessed/requested access to this material willfully, and that you are an adult 21 years of age or older. 

You also certify that you are NOT a city, county, state, or federal law enforcement officer, official of the United States Postal Service, acting in the capacity of a representative of a telecommunications firm, and that, to your knowledge, this material does not offend the standards in your area, nor is it in violation of any of local, state, or federal law. 

No animals were harmed in the manufacture of this product. 



Work Ethics in the Real World



This story is the product of a diseased and febrile mind. As such, it is fiction. Having said that; All my stories are true, even the ones I make up.

Copyright 2007 L_D_Darrow

I wish to thank hammer17 for taking the time to edit my offering. All mistakes are mine solely, whether planned or not.

*

I was really starting to hate my boss. Up till now I thought I had hated bosses before. I was wrong. Every time she made a mistake, it turned out to be one of us that was to blame. She seldom confronted us directly for our mistakes, she just reported it to the out of state owner without worrying us with it.

Last year the owner came down from upstate, and fired a man for making too many mistakes. There was no way to prove that he wasn't at fault at all. The only thing he did, was to tell Lisa, our boss, that she was wrong. The owner was in and gone before we realized, the guy was packing his box up.

There was two really sad things about our boss, besides her infallibility. She was a redhead, early 30s a scattering of freckles, and cute as hell. That was one thing, the other was she was a chain smoker, and her hands trembled.

We were a machine shop, specializing in military support hardware. When I hired on it was a 65 year old man that ran the place. The rumor mill warned me away from Lisa, she was a secretary then. The boss and her were an 'item'. I wasn't interested, I can't stand cigarette smoke.

One Thursday afternoon he dropped dead in the isle. Our snitch saw him and ran for the office. Lisa came out and screamed. All of them just milled around him before someone decided to call 911. I was way in the back and missed the whole thing.

The Sheriff interview all of us, if he had been given immediate help he might have survived. No one seemed to know how long he lay there. We were told to come back Monday, the owner would be down to see about keeping the place going.

Need I mention she learned her methods from her boss now dead? She was all tears the day he died. Monday rolled around and the owner announced she was the boss now. She was all smiles, and firmly in control. Or out of control. Depends on how you looked at it.

A couple of weeks ago, headed for work, I was getting on the interstate. Her 4-wheel drive super-charged toy passed me on the entrance ramp, really stupid because most people are watching out the left side of their vehicle, she passed me on the right. I don't think she knew it was me, but I started leaving earlier or using a slightly different route.

The next week one of the guys saw her getting a ticket on the side of the road by a female cop. She was late that day and in a really foul mood all day. The snitch heard the guy describing a somewhat embellished story of the sighting, making a comment how she was batting her eyes and opening the top of her blouse before the female cop. And it didn't work, the female cop must have been straight.

He was gone the next day when I got in. Fired for making sexual harassing statements in front of her. Now, I know she wasn't there. But it was too late. A couple of weeks later, a Thursday after work. I decided I had pushed it far enough. I borrowed my neighbors truck, I was going to pull my tool box and have a three day weekend before looking for my next place to get screwed.

Her vehicle was on the entrance ramp, the hood was up, and a trail of smoke or steam could be seen. I wasn't about to stop. It wasn't my problem. She wouldn't recognize me in this truck anyway.

The guys helped me load up, and strap down. Now I was just waiting for her to show up with our paychecks. It was also noted that one of the last guys hired, by her, was late too. I looked out and his van wasn't in the lot. I finally told the shop supervisor, to have her mail the check to me I even gave him the change for the stamp.

I saw the news on the Sunday night report. My previous boss was reported missing, her vehicle was found abandoned on the entrance ramp. No sign of her.

Monday morning a Sheriff woke me up to question me about her disappearance. I did not say anything about seeing her on the ramp. I hadn't told anyone at work either. I just told him about packing my toolbox and waiting for her so I could get my paycheck. Then coming home. I did mention the guy with the van not being to work. I was sure he got the same story from the others.

It took the police several days to connect the missing guy with the report from a person driving by her vehicle, seeing a van. They got a search warrant and found her tied to a bed, she had been thoroughly used. Although dehydrated she was alive. Our pay checks including hers, had been cashed and him and several others were traced to the border, but not beyond.

So should I have stopped? There were other guys at work that used the same ramp. I was at work ahead of them. They never mentioned seeing her. If she had been a decent person there was no doubt I would have stopped.

I just couldn't help but feel a sense of justice to it all. It took several months to get my final pay. Then she had shorted me 2 over time hours.

I happened to see my previous shop supervisor, he was in looking for work, the next week we were working next to each other, he told me Lisa had come back to work. But the owner's wife had been through the books and now Lisa was facing a 15 year sentence for embezzling. The owner had closed the place and the following week all the machines were gone.

He asked how things were here, I told him to watch the owner come out of the bathroom. He didn't see anything until the afternoon, the owner hadn't wiped all the white power from his nose. We both went looking for an other place of work that afternoon. 



Work Experience



It was about 9.30 in the morning, and I’d come into chambers early to finish a brief for a QC who was due in court that afternoon. It was a fairly boring fraud case, but the sort of stuff that runs and runs and pays the bills, anyway, I was nearly done and desperate for a cup of coffee, so I picked up the phone and called my secretary: 

“Oh Janie – good morning – nice of you to make it to work this morning.” 

“Cut the sarcasm Max, just because you had to come in at sparrow’s fart – after that liquid lunch you had with your journo mates in the Wig and Pen yesterday afternoon, no need to give me a hard time OK. Talk about a conflict of interests!” 

“Ok, enough already Janie – just remember who’s boss around here, you, OK.” 

“That’s better, Max, now what can I do you for?” 

“Gasping for a coffee Janie, get one of the juniors, to bring me one in will you, strong and sweet – I need it, and I’ve a pile of filing to do too.”

“Well all the juniors are busy Max – running your errands, but we’ve got some work experience kid just come in – will that do.”

“Well I suppose so, but I hope it’s not some pimply oik like the last one we had, dyslexic to boot.”

“Do you want your coffee Max?” “Ok, Ok just get on with it will you.”

I put the phone down – “getting way above her station that girl”, I said to myself, but in truth Janie was great and very attractive, but she was my wife’s best friend and the best secretary I’d ever had to boot, so I wasn’t going to mess that up, beside as a general rule, it’s best not to shit on one’s own doorstep so to speak.

I sat back to read the last of the affidavits in the brief and waited for some spotty youth to bring me my coffee. God, work experience heaven help us, every kid we’d had so far had been a total no hoper, we only kept it up because the head of chambers was a governor at the local school, just doing his bit for the community.

There was a knock at the door, and I said ‘come in’ with out looking up.

“Excuse me Mr. Randy, Janie asked me to bring you some coffee, black with two sugars, is that OK?”

I looked up somewhat surprised to hear a sweet young female voice. My surprise didn’t end there. She was gorgeous, shoulder length dark haired with blue eyes and a nice taut athletic frame. I caught myself from staring; nevertheless I’m sure she noticed the lustful smile that momentarily spread across my lips.

“ Yes, that’s fine.” I said. “ Just put it down here on my desk.” 

She walked into the office, closing the door behind her, and placed the mug of coffee in front of me. I looked her up and down. She was wearing a blue blazer and school skirt, which was evidently far too short and tight to be school regulation, and matching long socks. Mmmm I thought, some how school uniforms are such a turn on. I noticed that her white blouse was also stretched tight over her firm breasts, and I could see the outline of a thin black bra with a hint of nipple poking through. I looked up at her face and saw that she was blushing, having noticed the intensity with which I’d scrutinised her. I’m a lawyer, I can’t help it – I have to have an eye for detail.

“So you’re here for work experience, are you? What’s your name?” I said looking her directly in the eye.

“Kimberley, Mr Randy. Yes, I’ll be here for a week, I’m really looking forward to it, because I want to read law at University next year.”

“Well Kimberley, welcome to Hampton, Randy and Partners. And you can call me Max, by the way, everybody else does, if not something far worse. I must say you make a refreshing change from the usual uninspired youth we have through here on work experience.”

She giggled sexily and smiled back at me: “Janie said you had some filing for me to do, would you like me to start now? I’ve nothing else to do and Janie said that she was popping out to the bank and wouldn’t be back for an hour or so.”

“Yes, that’d be great, you see those two piles of brief’s on the floor by the filing cabinets.” I said, pointing across the room. “Well the one on the left is cases pending and the one on the right is completed cases. Just file them alphabetically in the respective cabinets. Ok? The names of the clients are written clearly on the cover of each brief.”

“Sounds easy enough.” she said, as she turned and walked over to stacks of briefs. 

I watched her behind as she walked, she had a nice perky arse too, and her hips swayed gently as she walked. When she reached the filing cabinets on the office wall, instead of crouching down to pick up the first file, she just bent straight over. My mouth gaped open in surprise and lust as I saw her skirt rise up her thighs to reveal the moons of her naked bottom cheeks and just a glimpse of a delightful keyhole between her legs, barely covered by a black thong. My cock sprang to life and I had to adjust my pants under my desk. I sipped my coffee and couldn’t take my eyes of her. I had a slight hangover and that always makes me hornier than hell anyway. 

“She must be doing this deliberately.” I thought to myself, “She can’t be that naïve, that she doesn’t realise that she’s giving me a show.”

I picked up my coffee and a copy of Law Magazine that was lying on my desk and went over to sit in one of the two easy chairs by a coffee table that I keep for reading and discussions with my partner and clients. She was making short work of the filing, and repeating the same movement each time. I tried to pretend I was reading the magazine but I couldn’t take my eyes off her sweet arse. 

Finally she turned and looked back at me, as I dropped the mag into my lap to cover the swelling in my trousers.

“All done Mr Randy, eh I mean Max, got anything else for me to do?”

“Not just now,” I said, “Why don’t you come and sit over here, opposite me and tell me about yourself, and why you want to be a lawyer?” I pointed to the easy chair across from me. “And take off your blazer if you like, we’re actually pretty informal around here despite appearances to the contrary.”

She slipped off her blazer, hung it on the coat stand and sat down opposite me, some what demurely pulling down her skirt as she did. I thought privately that this was a bit futile as I’d already seen her delicious arse, and the skirt rode up any way to the tops of her thighs, but for now she kept her knees together, so I was spared further excitement in that department although I now had a delightful view of her firm round breasts, and I could swear that her nipples were even more prominent than before.

“So tell me, what kind of law would you like to practice, and what do you hope to get out of your time here?” I said looking at her seriously.

She started to tell me how she hoped to be a criminal barrister and was studying English, philosophy and drama at “A” level, and that she hoped she would learn something from me about how solicitors prepare a case for court. As she talked her legs parted and although I tried to pay attention to her and focus on her face my gaze was pulled magnetically up her skirt. I could see the outline of her pussy through the thin fabric of her thong, which was stretched tight revealing the folds of her cunt lips.

She stopped talking, which broke my reverie, and I looked up to see that she’d noticed me staring up her skirt. 

“Do you like what you see?” she said, looking me boldly in the eye, with a naughty smile on her face. 

“Eh hmm, well yes I do.” I replied, as matter of factly as I could, and I stood up to go and lock the office door. 

“mmm I can see that” she said, looking down at the big bulge of my erection, “would you like me to show you more?”

I said nothing but, turned the key in the door and returned to my chair, adjusting my cock in my pants as I did so. With that she pulled up her skirt and in a single swift movement removed her thong, and spread her legs wide apart. I feasted my eyes on the sweetest bare pussy I’d ever seen. Her lips were thin but pouting, and her cunt glistened with her juices. She was obviously turned on and enjoying the effect she was having on me.

Slowly she lowered her hands between her legs and began softly caressing her thighs. Running her finger tips up and down, just barely touching the folds of her labia with each stroke. Gradually she worked her fingers further into her lips, spreading them wide so that the bump of her clit was visible. She raised one hand to her mouth and licked the tip of her index finger, before lowering it again and applying it to her clit. Delicately she rubbed her fingertip back and forth on the hood of her clit until I could see her little cherry, pink, sweet, swollen and proud. 

I was transfixed and started rubbing my cock though my trousers, but it was too hard and too big for comfort, so I unbuttoned my fly and my rigid shaft, sprang out through the fly of my shorts. Slowly and lightly I stroked my cock, never taking my eyes off the show that she was giving me. I’ve a bigger than average cock, not too long, but thick with a clean circumcised head which was throbbing already, as I was so turned on, watching Kimberley masturbate before me. Her eyes widened and she moaned softly as she gazed at my purple helmet, which was by now fully engorged, with my finger and thumb ringing it. The sight of the pre-cum glistening on my pulsating tip, seemed to turn her on even more, and she plunged two fingers deep into her cunt, which was now dripping with juices. Faster and deeper she pumped her fingers inside her, until throwing her head back she began to groan like a wildcat and tremble, her thighs quivering tight against her fingers. I could hear her fingers slurping in her love hole, and I watched in awe, squeezing my shaft hard, as with a final violent tremor she came, squirting love juice all over her hand. 

For a few seconds she fell back into her chair as the tension of orgasm subsided and she relaxed. I was stroking – still slowly, savouring every minute of this glorious scene. She seemed to come to, as though waking from a dream, and looking down at my hand, which was now pumping my shaft rather faster, said: 

“Here Max, let me help you with that.”

She knelt on the floor in front of me, grasped my waistband and pulled my trousers and pants to my ankles. Cupping my balls in her left hand she circled my pulsating cock with her right and started to wank me, her hand slipping smoothly up and down still lubricated with her cunt juice. Then looking me in the eye she lowered her lips to my cock head, sucking it hard and darting her tongue into my cumhole as she did so. I was in ecstasy and felt my balls tighten and the cum start to rise from the base of my shaft. I moaned, warning her that I was about to cum. Instead of pulling back she sucked my full length into her mouth, so my tip was bumping against the back of her throat, and she slid her fingers between my legs massaging my prostate. This was too much and I started to buck my hips, grabbing the back of her head as I pumped my engorged cock ever deeper and harder into her hot mouth. At every stroke she took more of me inside her, sucking me harder, until with a blinding flash in my brain, my cock exploded inside her, spurting streams of hot creamy cum into her mouth. She sucked me in drinking my cum, never faltering, milking every last drop of my seed with her succulent lips. 

I collapsed back in the chair and as I softened in her mouth, she began to lick my shaft lovingly, careful cleaning around my glans with her tongue, making sure that she swallowed every trace of my enormous orgasm.

“Stand up” she said, “look at the time, Janie will be back soon.”

I complied, struggling to my feet, as she efficiently pulled up my trousers, carefully put my cock away in my pants and buttoned my fly. She turned bent over to pick up her thong, giving my one last glimpse of her glorious pink cunt in the process, slipped the thong into her skirt pocket, smoothed her skirt down over her thighs and pecked me on cheek and said:

“I think I’m going to enjoy working under you Max, if that’s all for now Sir, I think it’s time for my tea break.” and with that she turned, popped on her blazer, and looking just like miss innocent, headed for the door and was gone. All I could do was stare after her open mouthed, wondering whether it was all a dream.

End of part one.

To be continued……



Work Experience



All sexually involved characters in this story are over 18 years of age.

*

Ok, well here goes, I thought. I just had to do it, no matter how embarrassing or lame I came off. I stood up from the grass where I was sitting with my soccer team after our game, and turn to look at the group of over 45's sore and breathless from the long game. Beer in hand, I spoke up, "alright fellas, I have a favour to ask. I know many of you have some top level jobs, so... My wife has insisted I ask you to consider accepting my daughter to have some work experience with you." I could see the men turn away, uninterested or trying to avoid my eye contact. "C'mon guys, just for a week so that she's not just wasting her time at home." I could see I wasn't going to get very far, so cracked a joke about Tommy, the chubby bloke who everyone had a go at, and everyone was laughing again. 

In the car on the way home, I talked to Tim, my neighbour to whom I gave a lift every week. I once again brought up my daughter's predicament, knowing he was a fairly high-paid executive who could pull some strings at his work. I explained that my daughter Morgan was just out of school, and had chosen to take a gap year after a stressful year the year before. However, she had just lost her job and it seemed as though she was looking to spend the entire year doing nothing but going out with friends, sitting in front of the tv, and shopping.

Surprisingly, perhaps because he had met Morgan at the barbecues we had with Tim and his wife, he made it seem a possibility, so when I went home to my wife I had some leverage so as not to get a scolding for my "uselessness".

The next day, Sunday, I slept in and was woken by splashing in the pool outside. I got out of bed and walked into the kitchen which has a good view over the backyard. Both my son of 15, Andy, and my daughter of 18 were out by the pool. My wife came up behind me as I watched my son bomb into the pool and said, "I'm not sure what I think about Morgan's new swimsuit." My eyes were directed to my daughter who got up out of the pool, and I could see what she meant. Morgan had grown up over the past year, and her slim little body was developing some curves. The little orange bikini and tight bikini bottoms did nothing to hide them. She was still quite a small girl, but combining her growing body with her ever pretty face, brown long wavy hair and eyes, I knew that boys would be looking to ask her out. It was a scenario I was not too keen on even thinking about, often being accused of being over-protective by my daughter. 

Morgan came and joined me for some breakfast on the back verandah, wiping herself dry with her towel. Just as she was about to sit though, the doorbell rang and she said she would get it. From the table I heard the voice of our neighbour Tim, so I got up to go chat. When I arrived he greeted me and said, "I was just saying to Morgan here that I saw her swimming outside earlier, and this reminded me of the request you had yesterday." By now my wife had also joined us at the front door forcing Morgan to step outside next to Tim.

Tim was a big man, and standing next to Morgan made him look even bigger. He said he came to offer her a week of work experience at his office, starting from tomorrow. Morgan didn't look overjoyed, but my wife and I were, and thanked Tim very much. He talked to Morgan, saying that it wouldn't be a very boring job, and that he would make it a week to remember, but Morgan was still unsure. We practically said yes on her behalf, and Tim said if she wanted, she would have to come over to his place at 7:30am and he would drive her.

After leaving, we talked to Morgan about the offer, saying it would look great on her CV. She warmed to the idea eventually, especially when I reminded her that Tim would be there and he said he would make it interesting for her. So the next morning, I woke her up when I woke up, and told her to get ready. After my shower, I went back to her room to find her still in bed, so I woke her again more sternly. Obviously she hadn't woken up this early in a while. It was almost 7:30 so I shouted upstairs to tell her to hurry, and she rushed down a minute later. 

I saw that she was dressed for the office, well in some sense. She had a white blouse that buttoned up the front, and a tight black skirt that went from her waist to her mid thighs. I would have questioned her dress but she was already late, and despite the fact that her outfit hugged her curves a bit too tightly, I showed her out the door. She put on some high heels, reasoning that all females in the office wore heels, and her tanned legs seemed to stretch on forever. She kissed me on the cheek and then walked over seemingly tired and begrudgingly to our neighbours place where Tim was waiting by his car. From our front door, I couldn't hear what was being said, but he smiled and obviously said something about her outfit as she looked down at herself and also smiled. Then she hopped into his BMW and he shot down the road. I hoped it wasn't going to be as boring as I thought it would be.

The family was all sat down for dinner that night, except for Morgan. My wife and I were a little concerned that by 7:30 she still was not home, but after calling Tim, he said he was just finishing up a little project that Morgan had been helping him with, and he said he was about to come home. He put Morgan on the phone for a brief hello, which sounded quite loud and hurried, and I told her we'd see her at home.

So as we all started dinner at about 8:15, Morgan rushed in the front door and joined us. She looked happy which was the most important thing for my wife and I. We had expected to find her gloomy and depressed, not wishing to go back the next day. But instead she looked energised and lit up. Her mother was also a little surprised at what she had chosen to wear, but she said she fitted in great, and people were complimenting her all day. 

Over dinner we asked her whether she enjoyed it, and after a surprisingly enthusiastic yes, we queried what she had to do. She told us there wasn't much for her to do, just do errands for people, and mainly help out Tim in his office. I didn't know how she could have found that so enjoyable, but she said what was the best was just being in the environment of working people. It made her feel older and responsible. "If only you were getting paid," her brother joked, bringing out a sarcastic laugh from his older sister. 

"Well I'm glad you enjoyed it sweety," her mother was genuinely glad she was out of the house. "I hope you didn't get in Tim's way though."

"Oh no, he told me several times throughout the day that he was very happy to have me there," she replied, "he was quite vocal about it at times," she grinned to herself.

I added, "and did you thank him for giving you this opportunity?"

"I sure did!" she rose from the table as her mother began asking her another question. "I would love to answer your questions here all night, but I'm all tired and sticky from today so I need a shower and then I'm going to hop into bed."

"I'll wake you same time tomorrow?"

"Yes thank you dad, goodnight!"

We were all left at the table a bit shocked and puzzled, but had to feel that it was a great thing that we had helped her into, and I for one slept far more soundly that night.

The next morning Morgan barely needed waking up. She was out the door early wearing the same skirt and high heels as the day before, but a different red silky blouse. I wasn't sure, but I thought she may have been wearing stockings as well as she headed over to Tim's place while I was still having breakfast. I had heard Tim's wife drive out minutes before she headed over, but didn't hear Tim's car. I walked to the front door and looked to see if his BMW was in the driveway. Nope. I went upstairs to take a piss, and came back down to finish my coffee. I still wasn't sure if I had heard them leave, but then again, the Beamer doesn't make a lot of noise when starting up. So I deduced they must have gone, and left for my own work. 

That night was much the same, as Morgan arrived home at about 8, after me. I saw that the car that dropped her off was different, and it drove down the road after dropping her off. She was smiling widely as she walked up to our front door, and I asked who that was, quite annoyed it wasn't Tim. I didn't know what to expect her to say, and when she said it was Tim's director of operations at the office, I didn't know how to react. She walked past me and sat down at the table once again. 

I joined her and her mother as she told her that today she had spent more time helping out Ross, the man who Tim reported to. My wife was very pleased with this, saying that our daughter would be able to get a good recommendation from such an important figure in the company. I had not thought of this immediately, rather concerned that Tim had let our daughter ride home with someone we didn't know. When I brought it up, my wife too found it very inappropriate, telling Morgan she should have called to tell us. Morgan reasoned that she "had her hands full at the office as Ross had to close a deal that forced him to stay later than Tim. Tim had not wanted to wait behind, so I told him I would be fine to get a ride with Ross." We refused to admit that it was alright, insisting she call us next time, and ate dinner with less conversation than the previous night.

The next day I was at work early, which gave me a long lunch break. I thought I would make the ten minute walk through the city to Tim's office to pay a surprise visit on him and my daughter. I thought it would be weird seeing my daughter in an office, as I asked different people at desks which floor and where on the floor I could find Tim Andrews. I finally found myself outside an office door with two names on plaques, one being my neighbour's. The blinds to the office were drawn, but I could hear movement inside so tried opening the door. It was locked. The moving stopped and I knocked on the door.

Tim replied through the door asking who it was and went very silent when I mentioned "a surprise visitor". He said in a jovial tone that he wouldn't be a minute, that Morgan was just helping him with something. More than a minute later, he opened the door, "I was wondering who would be knocking in lunch hour! Come in mate."

"Dad! What are you doing here?" My daughter greeted me with a hug. She was very warm, and I thought I could see some perspiration on her forehead. 

The office was quite large, and had two desks in it at either end. Morgan and Tim directed me to chairs at one end with a very messy desk. I had not thought of Tim as a messy guy, but papers we're everywhere and it all looked very unprofessional. "Obviously you can see why I needed Morgan's help here," he motioned to his mess. I looked around at the other end and was surprised to find another man inside. He looked busy, but still not busy enough not to open the door if Tim or Morgan couldn't.

He looked up and Tim introduced me to Greg. He was a sturdy man with glasses and a balding head, the hair he did have was a little messy. But he seemed like a nice guy and spoke very well. I thought it a little strange that there was a pair of black trousers hanging over one side of his desk. Who takes two pairs of trousers to work? Well, their office was a little different to what I had expected, but I still thought it would be a great place for my daughter to get some experience. So Tim had Morgan go get some sandwiches for the three of us and we had lunch together. 

About half an hour later, I was getting ready to leave, saying goodbye to Greg and noticing the pants were gone from his desk. Strange. He rose this time to walk over and shake my hand saying it was nice to meet me. Then someone opened the door and stuck their head in. It was a bald black man that emanated power. He said, "Tim it's 1:30, your time is up, my turn with Morgan." Tim looked a little uneasy as he introduced the man as his boss, Blake. He looked at me asking, "you weren't trying to cut in line were you?" I was confused as Tim then introduced me, and explained that Morgan was just so good at her duties that people from the office were lining up to have her help them out. This made me very happy, and seemingly it made Morgan happy too, as I knew she would take a lot of good experience and hopefully a good reference from this week. I bid them all farewell and kissed my daughter on the forehead as she pranced down the hallway to the boss's office with the boss walking very close behind her. 

Later that night, my wife mentioned to me something she found a little strange when she was folding the laundry. She had found barely any of Morgan's underwear coming through the washing. It did seem a little strange, but I was too tired to care, and fell asleep before Morgan even arrived home. 

When Morgan came downstairs the next morning I was treated to her in a pretty dress. It was different from the previous three days, and I asked her why the change. She told me that neither I or my wife were awake when she arrived home last night, but she asked me if it was ok with me if she went with Tim today to visit a client. Tim was in sales, and apparently he wanted to give Morgan the experience of a client and salesman negotiation. So she wanted to look casual and pretty, asking me how she looked. "You look pretty as usual darling." 

"Tim also said the two men who we're going to see would probably be in higher spirits if a pretty young girl was there helping him," we laughed together as I walked her to the door. 

"Oh and who dropped you home last night?"

"Davis," she replied.

"That's the boss I met right?" I said thinking back to the day before.

She gave a funny look as though she was thinking, then said, "yeah that's him," over her shoulder and she walked straight over and into Tim's waiting car. Tim honked and waved and sped off. Where exactly was she going again?

I got a call while I was at the office, and the voice on the other end was deep and sounded very serious, "hi, I am a representative of Hardy and Delaney Bodybuilding," and then his voice turned to higher spirits, "and I just had to call to say that your daughter is doing a very convincing job of selling us the biggest shipment of equipment we have ever made." I transformed from high confusion to total understanding all at once, and said I was a very proud father.

I was confused as to why he sounded short for breath and laboured for words, but he put me onto the other representative client, who explained the call a bit more, expecting that I would have been very much lost with such an introduction. He said he and his friend were body builders for a small company and his friend was currently trying out one of the exercise machines. He too complimented my daughter and said she was probably the deal breaker. I heard him say, "say hi to daddy now," as he put the phone near Morgan. She almost screamed "hiiii daddddyyy!" and groaned a couple of times. This was yet another strange occurrence over the phone, but the man then explained that she was helping them try out the equipment for women, and was struggling a little bit due to her "young little body, good for some things, not so great for weight machines". I didn't really know what he meant by that. 

I struggled to see any more reason to talk to this man, but thought I should check in with Tim, so asked for him to put him on. But the man replied saying Tim had gone and left them to have a session with my daughter, and then hurriedly said goodbye over the voice of my daughter saying, "it's so good!" It sounded like she was doing a great job of promoting the equipment, despite being pushed quite hard. I was so proud of her.

That night I came home and Morgan was already home. First time it had happened this week and it was Thursday night. My wife said she had slept like a baby since the afternoon, and I explained that she had been worked pretty hard that day it was understandable.

The next morning, a knock came at the door and I opened it to find Tim. He had come to tell me that his sector of the office was probably going to be kept late that night with a team meeting called by his boss Blake, and that none of his friends would be able to drop Morgan off until late. He said he completely understood if I didn't want her to go today, but that she would be a big help as it was going to get busy. I thought about going to check with my wife, but grew a pair and made the decision. Of course she could stay late, as long as she wants to, which I thought she would, and as long as you can bring her home. Morgan came downstairs and was filled in, and I detected that the longer hours seemed more attractive to her than fewer. "It can be like my leaving party as well," we laughed, but Tim said it would be mostly down to business tonight and Morgan would be very busy and very tired by the end of it, and bid me farewell for the day. I wished my daughter luck and told her to put in the effort, and they once again sped away down the road. 

When I got home, I texted Morgan to see how she was doing, not expecting her to have the time for a phone call from dad. Then while I was in the shower, my wife called out saying I got a reply, and said she thought Morgan was part of something quite important tonight. 

When I got out, I found my phone with a message from Morgan saying she was already exhausted, but most of the team had left that she had been working with all day, and now another group of the most important men in the business had arrived and were putting her to work. All the men in the conference room that night were working very hard and she expected to be busy till the wee hours of the morning, so don't wait till she gets home to sleep. So after dinner with my wife and son, we all headed to bed, leaving a key under the doormat. 

At about 4 in the morning I was half woken by the sound of many men laughing outside the house, so I quickly got up to check if Morgan was back, but found her bed empty, then looked out the window to find about five cars parked on the street that I had not seen earlier. Just as I was about to get into bed, I heard the front door open and Tim's voice, so I got up and went downstairs. There I found Tim lying Morgan down on the lounge in the back room.

I scared him and he said he had just come home and Morgan had fallen asleep in his car. He was insistent that I go back to bed and very apologetic that he had woken me, saying he just had to get her bag from his car and then he would set her up for the night on the sofa. I was offering to help him take her upstairs, but he said it was hard enough carrying her into the house, and practically pushed me back upstairs. He was a very good friend and good neighbour to have. As I was just falling back to sleep, I heard a bit of that laughing again, and a clinking of a bottle. I slept, but constantly thought i was hearing things, like doors opening or a grunt here and there, so i went to my wife bedside table and took one of her sleeping pills, so both of us were deep in sleep for the rest of the night. 

The next day at soccer, Tim turned up late saying he had a late night. After the game I saw him chatting and laughing with a few of the team members, and when I went over to them, he said he had mentioned how great an office hand Morgan had been. Then one of my friends, Mario, who owns a pizza chain said he would love for Morgan to come work with him for a week, as long as she was ready to start next week. I told him I would carry the message on and get back to him, then asked Tim if my daughter had got a reference from him. He replied saying no he hadn't and that he was having a little meeting of co-workers that would also be willing to give a reference, including the high level bosses, that night at his place. He said Morgan should definitely come over and she would get the glowing reference she had earned.



Work Experience



"Doesn't she look lovely today," Yvonne said as Clare carried a tray of drinks into the meeting room.

"Yes, lovely," I said with enthusiasm, and then as she handed me my tea whispered in her ear, "Good enough to fuck."

A little pinkness touched her cheeks, complimenting the pink and white colour scheme of her oversized t shirt. But she held my gaze and I watched her pupils dilate.

"Turned eighteen at the weekend. Didn't she tell you?"

"Really?" I said. "That's naughty."

"We'll have to do something special later."

"Definitely," I said, stroking Clare on the bare shoulder, caressing the exposed bra strap pulled taut over her shoulder blade.

Yvonne said, "We can take her to the pub later."

"That's the very least we can do," I said.

I thanked her and sipped my tea, before sitting down to a meeting that I knew I wouldn't be concentrating on fully. Yvonne and I continued with our usual Monday morning state of play meeting. Our little corner shop of a business was developing a reputation and building a client list. Just Yvonne and then my help. Recently she gave her niece a job, light office duties. Fetching, filing and photocopying. Clare was a bit on the quiet side, took her a while to pluck up the courage and practice to answer the phone in a professional manner. "Awkward teen, late developer." Yvonne said.

I was pleased with her progress in a purely work setting. She wasn't like your average teenage temp. No gum chewing cloud of bad attitude surgically connected to her mobile phone. She was family, and a good middle class family at that.

Clare brought refreshments in mid-morning. Yvonne called her svelte. I disagreed, called her gamine. At this exchange she blushed, perhaps not knowing what the words meant.

I whispered to her, "And very fuckable." I brushed her cheek. She rushed out of the room.

"Nick. I can hear the dirty disgusting things you're saying to her." Yvonne adopted the tone of a haughty school matron chastising a silly boy. 

"Yvonne, I want to make love to your niece."

"Are you asking me for permission?"

"Sort of, but she's a bit distant."

"She's just shy, especially around you. Fallen for your charm, no doubt. She's untouched, very sheltered upbringing."

"She's beautiful. I can't stop thinking about her."

"Do you think she looks like me? Can you see the family resemblance?"

"Yes, and I must admit that's part of the attraction."

"Do you really, really want to make love to her, or is it just a fuck of an innocent young girl. Be honest"

"Yvonne, I just don't know. Like you and me. Make love from time to time but still be friends."

"I'm a mature woman who has separated her emotional needs from her physical ones."

"Please Yvonne."

"Oh Nick, you know I can't resist when you beg like a puppy." Yvonne stroked my cheek, "I'll have a chat with her. See if we can both help her overcome her shyness around you."


*** 


Yvonne called me into her office. She was standing hugging Clare. The family resemblance was uncanny. The sweet eighteen year old and her sexually confident, and some might say sexually aggressive, aunt; a forty three year old cougar.

She beckoned me into their embrace and kissed me on the cheek.

"It's arranged Nick. I will be out of the office this afternoon. You have permission to lock the front door and put the answering machine on." I couldn't quite believe that Yvonne was being so matter of fact. 

"You will seduce this beautiful girl. You want this to happen, don't you Clare?"

Clare blushed. She managed to mumble a quiet, "Yes."

My cock was throbbing in my trousers, from this situation and at the thought of what was being offered to me. Carte blanche to make love to a sweet teenage girl.

"My darling, Nick will be gentle and charming. If he isn't I will make him pay a heavy price." Yvonne kissed Clare on the cheek and sent her from the room.

"If you hurt her, physically or emotionally I will cut your balls off." She grabbed my crotch, and discovered my arousal.

"Oh you are keen. Be gentle with her. I know she hasn't had cock before, maybe a finger. She'll be tight down there. It runs in the family."

I wasn't really listening, just enjoying Yvonne's expert touch handling my cock through my trousers.

"Damn, I should have just kept you for myself. Forgot how nice and thick your cock is. Don't go ramming it down her throat. Her aunt hasn't got round to teaching her the subtle art of the blow job yet."

My mind flashed back; Yvonne and I had been intimate, I remembered just how skilful her fellatio was. It was so refreshing to work with a woman whose attitude towards sex and sexuality was so open.

"Fuck, Nick, how am I going to concentrate on my meeting this afternoon? He's quite sexy too. My pussy's getting very wet." 

She pulled away from me. Flushed. Excited. 

"Do it in here. Across my desk. Three o'clock on the dot. Be sitting at my desk. I'll phone you."

I bumbled around my office for a few hours. Yvonne locked herself in hers. The 'Do Not Disturb' sign on the door. Not really necessary with a workforce that consisted entirely of Yvonne, Clare and myself. A little edge of town suite of offices. A reception and meeting room, two offices, one for Yvonne and a smaller one for me, a kitchen and bathroom. A business facility about the size of a two bedroom apartment, but all that we needed for now. It was cosy, welcoming.

***

Yvonne phoned me at three o'clock exactly. 

"I sent her out shopping. Told her to buy something nice to wear. Get her out of those jeans and sloppy t shirt. Maybe you could do the decent thing and take her out to dinner after you deflower her. Use your expenses credit card."

Somehow, I was no longer in control. To think this morning I declared my undying lust for my colleague's niece, and now, Yvonne was stage managing her seduction.

"Are you enjoying this Yvonne?"

"Yes, very much."

"Why?"

"Because this is special, for her, and for me too. She's becoming a woman, and doing it under my wing. Her mother's such an uptight frigid bitch. I guess this is what Auntie's are supposed to do in the modern world."

"You are so very modern and broad minded Yvonne?"

"It had to happen sometime, and with someone. I'm happier that it's with you. I can quality assure that nice hard cock you have, and your ability to use it. Better this than a dirty drunken fumble with some useless teenage prick. Look in my left hand drawer Nick."

I pulled open the drawer to reveal a pair of pink cotton panties, a disposable razor and a packet of condoms. I had a merry chuckle down the phone line.

"It's not meant to be a joke, Nick. She's not on the pill. Please don't get her pregnant. If you do, I'll make you marry her. I'm not joking about that either. I would quite happily have you as my sister's son."

"Okay, Yvonne, Point taken. What about the other two items?"

"She wasn't prepared. I've instructed her to shave herself down there and to let the fresh air around her private parts. Don't just go jabbing your fat cock into her. I know how useful you are with that tongue. You're taking her virginity remember. The least you could do is let her experience expert cunnilingus for the first time."

"I've been dreaming about the taste of her pussy for days."

"Look in the other drawer Nick."

I found a pair of black silk knickers. Very expensive designer label. No doubting who they belonged to. There was a reason why Yvonne had locked her office door. 

"See what you made me do Nicky darling. Can you see how much I'm enjoying all of this? It's wicked, I know." She could hear me inhaling her scent, tasting the damp patch.

"I'm still on edge Nick. Clare's uncle might get the night of his life when I get home."

I couldn't even begin to imagine what the conversations or atmosphere would be like in our little work place tomorrow morning. I was living in the moment, Yvonne was enjoying it vicariously. I was about to make love to her niece across her desk. She had set this up so that my mind would unavoidably think of her when I was seducing her teenage lookalike. I had to salute her brilliance. She was as astute in business as she was sexually deviant.

Lucky old Uncle Tony, a man I'd never met but who Yvonne described as a "dirty old pervert with a big cock and a fat wallet". He had bank rolled this little enterprise for Yvonne, mostly to keep her occupied. Keep her out of the way while he fucked a string of mistresses. The business was making money. It didn't need Tony to underwrite it. Yvonne refused to become anyone's mistress but she did enjoy vigorous recreational sex. Occasionally with me, and with a collection of discreet young studs. Better than going to the gym, she claimed.

My cock was throbbing. "Are you ready Nick?" Yvonne purred down the phone.

"Call her in." she ordered, and then the phone line went dead. 

Call her in. How? Shout out? Dial her extension number? I got up and walked through to reception. She was physically trembling. I reached out and took her by the hand. 

"Clare, you're beautiful," I said. 

I wasn't lying. She was wearing a simple pink shift dress and high heels. Timelessly elegant. Like her aunt. I worked hard at putting images of Yvonne out of my head.

"Are you sure about this Clare, darling? We can stop, just say the word." I would be devastated if she called a halt to this but I knew it was the right thing to do.

"I want this, Nick. And I want it with you?"

I hugged her tightly.

*** 

The inevitability of what Yvonne had engineered was starting to fall into place. I felt like phoning her up to tell her how fucking happy I was; grateful for her liberal and libertine views. My arousal throbbed as I explored under Clare's dress. Knickerless as promised. Yvonne was a wicked woman but she delivered on her promises.

I pushed Clare across the desk as mandated. Pushing the hem of her dress up over her thighs, around her waist, exposing her virginal pussy. Pink and raw, freshly shaved and left naked under her skirt for hours. Perfectly prepared like a confectioners window display, beckoning me to taste her.

"Show me," I said.

"Show you what?" she asked.

"How you masturbate. How you touch yourself."

"Why?"

"I want to do it properly. Exactly the way you want it."

"But your hands are different to mine. Big and bony and strong. I want to have your fingers touching me, Nick."

"Show me, please just a little bit. Like your giving me a clue."

She closed her eyes, tried covering her face. I said, "Don't be embarrassed."

"You must do it too," she said.

"Do what?"

"Get it out."

"Get what out?" I teased her, wanting dirty words to emanate from that innocent mouth.

"That... you know." She was blushing more than ever now, but her hand was between her legs pleasuring herself.

"Say it," I instructed.

"Get your cock out," she gasped.

And then I did as she requested.

She was wide eyed as she watched me pull on my shaft, repeatedly hiding and revealing the head of my erection. When the shock of the situation subsided we found ourselves mutually masturbating. I showed her how I liked to be stroked and watched her fingers become coated in her juices as she circled her clit and penetrated her virginal hole.

I couldn't wait any longer. I took hold of her wrist and brought her hand up to my mouth, kissing her hand like a gentleman and then licking her pussy juices from her fingers. Just an appetiser, she tasted sweeter than I could ever imagine. I couldn't hold off any longer. Time to taste her sweet virginal flavour.

I locked my mouth onto her puffy pussy lips. She tasted wonderful. Sweetness heightened by the fact that she was untouched by cock. I threw myself down onto Yvonne's sumptuous office chair. The black leather cool against my naked ass. My ankles restricted by my bunched trousers, I spread my knees wide. Clare instinctively knew what to do next. She knelt between my thighs, but when she brought her face close to my rubber encased cock she stalled. Her aunt's words returned to my brain, "hadn't taught her how to suck cock," and her aunt was indeed a mistress of that dark and intimate art.

I thought that was to be the end of it, but Clare had other plans. She pulled the condom off my cock, and recovering her dress from the floor, she wrapped the pink silk material around my hardness. The pressure and rhythm from her delicate hands was superb. The look of concentration on her face was beautiful.

Maybe she lacked experience in oral skills, but her ability to masturbate my throbbing cock was wonderful. Definitely not the second choice option.

I warned her that the material of her dress would be stained from the lubricant of the condom. And as if that wasn't bad enough, I was in danger of staining it beyond recovery.

She said she had taken precautions and used the lining side.

I said "That's sensible," but my throbbing balls were so full of cum I was going to create a huge stain.

The mention of my balls reminded her of their existence. She cradled them in her delicate hands. I warned her again that I was going to absolutely destroy the fine silk material, and it was going to happen very soon. She quickened the pace of her fist, massaged my balls a little more aggressively.

"I don't care. Aunt Yvonne paid for it. I'm going to soak all of your semen up with it and leave it here on her desk. She can pay for it to be dry cleaned, but knowing that dirty bitch, she'll probably keep it as a souvenir. "

A note of contempt entered Clare voice. I sort of approved of her motivation. This carnal act was the centre of one huge power play. Aunt Yvonne's attempt to head fuck everyone.

Clare whispered urgently. "Come for me Nick. Make a huge mess of this dress. Do you like how the silk feels? Shoot your load into it."

This quiet little beauty had suddenly found her voice.

I clutched the arm of the chair, started mumbling incoherently as Clare focussed on her handiwork. The pressure in my cock was immense and the first spurt of orgasm took her by surprise. She encased my cock head in the silky material and let it absorb my semen. In that moment I got a flash of her potential, not simply as a sex object, but as a woman. I felt honoured to be in her presence. In spite of being double her age, I wanted nothing less than for us to become a couple. 

***

"Where are your own clothes?" I asked her.

"In my gym bag. I wasn't expecting anything like this. Lucky I've got some fresh underwear," she hesitated, "unless you don't want me to..."

I stroked her hair, "I want you to be yourself. That sweet girl who I couldn't stop thinking about today. Please, don't ever become anything like Yvonne."

She smiled, reassured, her confidence building. Clare retreated to the bathroom with her gym bag. I composed myself, straightened out my clothes and became presentable for the world at large. Clare emerged from the bathroom; sweet, natural and fresh faced, wearing flat shoes, fashionably cut jeans, and a t shirt.

"Gamine," I mused, "Definitely gamine."

Just an ordinary couple hand in hand, we stepped into a bistro and were greeted by the Italian family of staff.

They fussed around Clare with attention that's only afforded to self-confident women and denied to wallflowers. I felt blissfully happy. Clare was radiant, deflecting their flirtation. The waiter poured some chilled white wine. I swirled it in my glass, more in reflection than appreciation, and raised it in a toast. 

"Good luck Uncle Tony."

Clare giggled, stopped herself and raised her wine glass; behaving with a new found maturity.

And as an afterthought I said, "He'll need it."

I sent Yvonne a text message. 

"Taking tomorrow off, given Clare the day off too." Curt, business like, no kisses or smiley faces on the end. Then I turned off my mobile phone. I was going to take Clare home with me. I was going to make love to her again and again tonight, and then some more in the morning. I had found a beauty that could only grow in confidence very quickly, a not-remotely-ugly duckling, who was about to become a beautiful and natural swan. I didn't want her aunt to poison that; didn't want Clare to model herself on some bitter cock hungry predator.

Yvonne could have the office to herself tomorrow. Her private office had the reek of sex locked up in it. And a pretty pink dress used to wipe up my cum discarded on her desk. She could bury her face in it, dance naked through the rooms, masturbating herself in every one of them for all I cared. She could call up one of her studs, several for what it mattered and get her rocks off.

I paid the bill in cash with my own money and dismissed all sexual thoughts of Yvonne from my mind for good.