3 comments/ 24492 views/ 10 favorites Must You Solve Everything With Sex? By: Satolep "Must you solve everything with sex, Lisa?" Danica asked me with a savvy smile on her face. "Didn't it work?" I had just told her how I got a very resistant client into bed, bringing him to finally sign a contract it seemed he never would. The client was Joseph Worthington, a senior partner who inherited his position, but made the most of it. His company had recently merged with another. The products this other company made relied on the advertisement made by my firm. Since they merged, we had been trying to represent the whole conglomerate, but Mr. Worthington was standing in our way, maintaining his loyalty to their traditional advertisement friends. Until now, that is. "This was easy for you, wasn't it?" Danica asked me. "Let me tell you something, hon. The only real problem a woman has is keeping the power to choose who will touch her and who will never do," I made that remark juggling my tits a little. Since Danica's breasts are also really big, and she's far from being a saint, I knew she would take it in the right way, even though her tits are fake and mine aren't. Not everyone can naturally fill a 36DD. "I chose him. Of course it was easy, and I obviously enjoyed it," I had cum only once, which was a bit disappointing since I was responsible for that and it is so easy to make me cum. But I did enjoy the whole thing. Danica made sure she got every detail, down to the curvature of his penis. "This move had its risks for him, though. You better not fuck with him," "No worries, honey, I never fuck with who fucks me," I assured Danica. XXXXXXX When I sat on the car – and a sharp enjoyable pain brought part of the fun to my mind – the cell rang. It was my husband, Charlie, and sex vanished from my mind completely. He was pestering me for no real reason: checking again if I would get the kids at school – like we had confirmed that morning! The annoying sensation didn't last, though. Another message came in. A photo of that client's cock ready and willing. It was not tempting now, but it was funny anyway. Arriving at the firm I was a bit aroused again, now from my share of that contract. When I dropped it on my boss's desk she seemed impressed, but also gave me the "you slut" look. Fabiana wasn't being literal. She has no idea of how much a slut I really am – although she does keep me from meeting her husband even at office parties. Some would say that's smart, although I really have better and more interesting meat at my disposal. The problem here was really that everybody thought I would not succeed with this client. I did. What a bitch am I... To be fair, she could be also disapproving my choice of clothes. I came directly to the office with those papers. That meant I was still wearing what I chose for Joseph that day. I flaunted my 5ft. 9 on top of very high heels, emphasizing hips and butt that ran proudly in the family. A dominating figure in an office environment is addictive. Add the revealing cleavage (my breasts pumping out since I leaned on her desk putting the papers down) and the tight short skirt. Simple and efficient. Shameless. Her jealousy was not unwelcome. I was happy to feel hotter than her – and at least she was no racist, as my previous boss was. Other than that, the rest of the day was pretty normal. Finished other responsibilities at the office, got the girls at school, arranged dinner, minded the clothes and the mess, watched a movie snuggled with the family, partly deflected come-ons from various potential or ex-lovers on the phone and the internet, and closed the night with unexpected marital sex. Perhaps I was extra-hot after fucking Joseph and longing for more – sex begets sex, as I always say. The rarity of such an occasion (Charlie being horny) didn't make it special. Also, such rarity didn't hurt my feelings anymore. On the contrary, I now felt hot that even my husband of 12 years still wanted sex now and then... I saw he was planning something right away. He was more attentive the whole night, washed the dishes without making a fuss about it, caressed during the whole movie. Our five-year old, Candice, the youngest, asked to sleep on our bed, but he denied it. That was overkill. He was always soft for them asking to sleep with us, although he knew perfectly well I was against it. Whenever he made them sleep in their bedroom he was wanting some loving. He locked the door and looked at me with a smile. "What?" I asked. "Come here," he began caressing me, he was very tender, but also started rubbing me with his semi-erected cock. He knew that caressing his cock would be a reflex. My husband knew how to provoke me, how to give me pleasure, how to make me cum. He would do all that, but it was obvious he was really there to satisfy his arousal, that excitement he had since he arrived, maybe even before. A new hot colleague? Some memory on the way home? Who cares? I freed that cock from his shorts, that nice cock of his, with his tender clear skin and his big pink foreskin, a bit wider that the rest of his dick. He was not as big as Joseph's, he was thinner. I liked it anyway. Immediately I started playing with it, provoking with the tip of my tongue, caressing his balls with my tits. His cock started to pulse with his doubt between forcing my mouth or going down to fuck my tits, which he loved to do. I laughed, and let my nightgown slide completely to the floor. I knew he'd like that. Since he was so lustful that evening, I chose one of his favorites: a white silky one. It's contrast dancing down my skin made his hips thrust at my face. His desire moved me, and I came down with my mouth with hunger, as if trying to suck his soul out. I went on him so hard that he moaned too loud and I had to stop in a second. We laughed again. I made up for having to stop so suddenly by linking it's whole body, always with my eyes locked on his and my tongue out for show. Then I let him slide his dick between my tits. I started to press against my chest, my breasts making his hard cock almost disappear and then come up again, very close to my mouth. I didn't leak it. I was enjoying the provocation myself. But I was fucking him ever harder. I looked up with a wicked smile, knowing I could make him cum like that. He slapped my face for that. My hands on my own tits, pressing his cock, he slapped again. I kept smiling at him and he hit me harder. When his hand came again I instinctively protected myself with one arm. He grabbed it, took my other arm and made me stand. "I missed hitting you, bitch," He slapped me again. "Did you miss it?" Another slap, always on the same side, so I couldn't help but protect myself, which turned him on, and made me so wet I could feel it even down my thighs. "Yes," I replied ignoring the stinging pain of the slap. He threw me on the bed. My legs went up in the air. As they came down he grabbed them and pushed them up again, going down on me forcefully. I never minded technique on this matter. What I care about is feeling someone determined to eat me up and drink me completely, and my husband had always had that talent. His tongue tasted my pussy all over and went directly into me, hot, hard, wet, leaking and searching for every bit of me. And I gave myself completely. He really knows how to eat me up. I came so hard I almost didn't have time to grab the sheets and bite them in order to control, at least a bit, the urging groan that came out of my body as it exploded in pleasure and heat. My mind got so high I almost forgot where I was. When I looked down, I was nearly surprised to see my husband there, his face forced against my thighs, her tongue still exploring my body, forcing me to keep cum – not that I would care by then who was making me contort myself with pleasure. I stretched one of my arms trying to push his head away, as my body begged for a moment to breath, while my other hand was clawing his skin, grabbing him to come ever inside of me and never stop. I eventually had to let go of the sheets and my voice was out of control. I was begging, although I really didn't know for what, but I could hear my voice getting thinner and louder. He used the arm I was hurting with my fingers and shut my mouth forcefully. He got more excited. I could feel it in my cunt. His mouth had some renewed energy, and my body began thrusting by itself until he couldn't hold it any longer. My thighs forced him away as my butt went to our left, my clit aching. His hand couldn't reach my mouth anymore, so I gasped for air, then left a little smile out as he himself laughed looking at my desperate pleasure. But that was a split second. He took the opportunity to hold the back of one thigh and near my heel. He made me clearly because he didn't believe he would last long after the tits and the slaps. He flipped my whole body, forcing me down on my stomach, my butt completely turned up for him. For a moment I feared he would look at my butt hole and somehow noticed that Joseph had fucked me there just a few hours back, but obviously he didn't. That did bring to my mind, though, that Joseph had cum inside the condom, which made me long a little more for my husband's cum inside of me. Charlie positioned himself on top of me, his legs touching mine a bit, his arm laying most of his weight on my back as the other hand controlled his cock, aiming and touching my pussy. As he rubbed it, I remembered Joseph opening me up earlier, his thick cock stretching my cunt wide. Wet again, and not just from the last orgasm. However, after cumming I seem to become tighter, or at least I feel that way. Charlie could be my first man as far I as knew but the sensation of that hard dick forcing its way in my body. I could his weighted even more as he adjusted his hand on back, his thighs and knees rubbing my butt to come ever deeper. I could feel his other hand on my voluminous hair, trying to make a tight unified group he could pull without hurting me. Soon he did it. My head went up, and my body caught on fire. My breasts jolted I front of me as he thrust his hips against my butt. My back would hurt from his first hand weighing near my waist, contorting me, but he soon got his feet beside my butt. He used that hand to slap me again. "You little bitch, I love seeing that big rack on that nightgown. You know that don't you, my bitch?" He squeezed one breast until coming to the nipple and pressed it until it hurt. I tried to say yes, but just moaned. His thrusts became more wild and forceful. He slapped me again, now on my bouncing tit. My breathing was pretty heavy, but I began moaning. He put a pillow in front of me and violently forced my head against it. I was buried there, part of his weight now on my nape. I couldn't breathe, no matter how hard my body needed it. I could only feel his cock getting harder with every slap he landed on my butt. He said something about my ass, but I was incapable of understanding words now. Then he came, great strong loads of it, and that made me cum again. Even with the pillow sucked in my mouth I could hear my groan dominate the bedroom. He let go of my hair, so I found some air tilting my head to my right. He collapsed on me, his sweated warm body resting on mine, his cock still filling me, every time a little less. I gladly welcomed both his whole weight and his semen. After maybe a minute in that situation I found it funny how unexpected this was. It was so rare to cum twice with him now. Even to simply have sex, actually. Joseph could have been much worse also. Fucking for profit and finding a thick dick with some decent technique was too much luck! That was it. I was feeling lucky. We heard a knock on the door. I felt Charlie suddenly slip from inside of me and that really made me a little sad. He slapped my ass. "I think you woke them up," He knew it wasn't true. They never slept in their bedrooms without complaining a little more, "Cover that ass, darling." I got up. Charlie was putting on his shorts. I glanced at his petite shiny white butt as he covered it. "I'm taking a shower," I told him. I heard Julia, our older daughter, complaining that Candice wouldn't sleep. That always happened when we insisted they had to sleep in their bedroom. Charlie began to take care of the matter. I looked my satisfied body on the mirror and said to myself "That's my slut," I winked at myself and got into the shower caressing my body for no apparent reason other than I was feeling so good. I felt the water cooling my neck, my chest, my stomach, and heard no more. A very lucky night. I would never suspect then the increasingly powerful consequences of winning that client. Must You Solve Everything With Sex? Ch. 02 For technical reasons, I had to change the title. This is part two of my story called "Must you Solve Everything with Sex?" ***** Charlie woke up, turned the lights on, and started to get dressed. I struggled to keep sleeping, but he made no effort to be quiet. He finally got out of our bedroom, but he didn't turn the lights out, neither did he close the door. I heard him calling the girls to wake up. I was almost dreaming again when he came back and called them louder. I got up. It was my time to manage the offspring. Charlie wouldn't be of much help early in the morning anyway, especially with Candice's hair. Charlie was ever a step ahead every morning, since the girls relied solely on me for the dress up and eat ritual. There was always some problem: a shoe missing, a sudden distaste for a certain color, or something. As Charlie ate breakfast, I was between the bathroom and their bedroom. As he got ready to go, we ate breakfast. As I tried to organize everything for their school, they clung to their father prematurely missing him. I left the girls at school, and finally got to work. I had nearly forgotten the great contract I brought them the day before, but it was the first thing I heard about as I arrived. Everybody dimmed important to congratulate me. Danica was there and smiled at me with a very naughty look. I was just getting my first coffee when my boss brought the news. "Lisa, the boys want to talk to you," she saw me pouring the coffee and was strangely considerate giving me the time I needed to finish it before going to see the boys. These were Jonathan J. Klippel and Arthur Silverman. We called them that as a joke since they were both far older than anyone in the building - perhaps in the US. They were the real bosses there. They responded only to the owners, who lived far in our central office, in Chicago. I enjoyed talking to them wearing something that would make them drool, since they were dirty old men - like any rich dick. That day, however, having just had sex both with my husband and another man, I was feeling sexy no matter what I put on. I had a simple light-yellow dress. It made justice to what was underneath it, but it was not very tight. It went down to my knees, up my neck, with no sleeves. The real treat was my hair. It had been natural for years, no attempt to "contain" it. It went every which way, perfectly curly, and the boys loved it. They thought it gave me a regal quality. I agreed. They were sitting on a couch and had two chairs in front of them. Fabiana went straight to one of them. Jonathan offered me a cigar while congratulating me for the successful deal as I sat on the other chair. He knew I didn't smoke. Hardly anyone did, but they kept the symbolic gesture from who knows when. "Thank you, Mr. Klippel," I smiled. "Come on, sweetheart! Call me Jonathan," he said, his eyes enjoying my hair. "Yes, Mr... Jonathan," I gave him a gentle smile and he laughed, deeply pleased. I always played this game. He was a bit younger than Silverman and usually mistook that fact with being more alive than his partner. They were both way over the hill. Only a professional and dedicated hooker would see their wallet through such a decay of the human body. Maybe one of Hugh Hefner's girls? I crossed my legs to emphasize my thighs opposite to Fabiana's, and waited. I was actually a bit nervous. I knew Worthington's account was important, but I didn't believe it would merit an audience with the boys. There had to be more to it. Silverman, annoyed with Jonathan's flirting, came to it. "Mrs. Thompson, we called you here today not only to give our appreciation but to make you an offer," "I'm all ears, Sir," said I, telling the truth! "We've been watching you very closely for some time now, although I doubt you were aware of it," he said, actually taking a quick look at my tits. Funny old misogynist. Both Fabiana and I moved ourselves on our chairs. "Not, really, Mr. Silverman," I said, containing a disrespectful laugh. "Come on, old man, you make it sound as if we were spying on her," Jonathan hit him friendly on the back and tried to relax us all. "What's really happened is that some people took an interest on you back in Chicago. They were thinking of transferring you," I smiled and tried to say something, but I really didn't find words. "We know it's an important decision..." Jonathan continued, but waited for a response right there. "Jonathan, Mr. Silverman," I began, "I'm actually very flattered. It means a lot to me, as our firm does. I'm glad I've been lucky this last few months," I could feel Fabiana sinking on her chair. "There are, however, some concerns. I have Charlie and the girls. They both love their school..." "Of course, of course," Silverman intervened, "we are not saying you'd have to move right away," he tried to laugh. "We are actually resisting those northeastern dicks who are trying to steal our golden egg chicken," I managed to find some flattering in there. "But we really can't resist them forever, and there is a special case they've been wondering if you could handle. Think of it as a trial, for them, for you, and for Chicago," Silverman concluded. XXXXXXXXXX Charlie took the news pretty well. It seemed to him they were recognizing my efforts, which I pretty damn well deserved. My daughters were less satisfied with the idea, but for now I'd only be gone for a week. I had no intention to be moved permanently. There was every reason to believe it wouldn't be a good idea for the girls. The flight took some time, but it was ok, minus the discomfort of so tight seats. At the airport they had a fine limousine driver waiting for me. He held a paper with my name on it right in front of his robust chest. He was checking me out as I paraded through the lounge. At first he didn't seem to realize I was coming directly to him, being the person whose name he had on his hands. Perhaps he was not expecting a fellow African American. I, on the other hand, had my eyes on those chocolate lips. He was so tall my forehead only reached his chin. That's probably meaningless if you've forgotten I'm 5 ft. 9. His strong hand shook mine. I tried to be discrete, although I felt like giggling as a high school bimbo. I cursed the long flight for my appearance, even though there was no mirror around where I could really check how I looked. He showed me to the back seat. It's funny, but I was somehow disappointed by that predictable fact. Even so, I found Chicago very promising. "Have you lived here long?" I had to start the conversation somehow if I was to keep that driver on my back pocket. "All my life, Mrs. Thompson," he cordially responded. "Please, call me Lisa," I said, preparing the obvious question. "And you are?" "Forest Williams, madam," he smiled by the mirror. "What must I do for you to relax?" I looked straight at his eyes. "Lisa!" "Lisa, right," he smiled again. "Yours is a very fine name!" I flirted, "It sounds strong." "You like strength?" His eyes were very inappropriate. "Very much," my eyes were no better. "That's nice to hear," he spoke, with a soft voice. Yup, that trip would surely not go to waste, no matter what happened at the firm. I laid back, posing for his pleasure. When we arrived he opened the door for me. I leaned farther and kept my butt high as I got out of the car, just to be sure he knew I would not forget our little conversation. Danica was right, I was too rash to mix sex with anything. I'm pretty ok with it being just a bit a fun on my day, but I'm also very aware that that's not true for most people. Since I had just breached my barrier of having sex to get ahead at work, I found it much safer to already have a cock at my disposal outside any business transaction I would make in Chicago. If anything gave me any ideas I could take it out of my system just calling Forest. And it was the cherry on that cake that he happened to be a big strong brother. Jonathan and Silverman sent me to know those "northeastern dicks", but the first colleague I met there was a cunt. She sized me up the moment I got out of the elevator and she clearly meant me to think she was not impressed. I responded walking like a model and lifting my head high as if I would ignore her completely. She was too thin, her hair of a red too dull, her glasses too big. I would not be bothered by the likes of her. I went to the door and would walk right through her if she hadn't put her hand up. "Mrs. Thompson?" she said, stressing her disapproval of being my chaperone. "Yes?" I replied matter-of-factly. "I'm miss O'Neil. I'm here to welcome you," she completed in an unwelcome tone. "Oh, I thought you were just standing there, waiting for the elevator," I replied in kind. "We actually have a lot to do here," she tried to dismiss my provocation, but couldn't. "No one just stands around. Maybe you do things differently in Denver. Would you come in?" I replied with an ugly face behind her back. A better comeback would have to wait. She opened the door, but went in first. She was at least 10 years older than me. A redhead blue eyed gal with no manners. She shook her skinny butt a lot. She surely wanted me to notice how firm her ass was, but I obviously credited it to some garment underneath her dress. It was quite obvious that no one had fucked her in awhile. It explained her stuck up attitude. She definitely needed someone to stick something up her. Still calling herself "miss" seemed like such an obvious attempt to deny her age, but it called attention to the absence of any ring on her finger. Their office didn't impress me much. They were about the same size as ours, but it was messier and, at the same time, lifeless. It caught my attention that there was only one black person working there, and the vast majority of the employees were men. For some reason I expected more equality in Chicago. Well, this was just one office, after all, not the whole city. But it was yet another bad impression. That O'Neil bitch finally presented me to someone important. Our meeting was right there, among everybody else, on our feet. "Mrs. Thompson, yes?" fired away the perfect stranger. "Yes, sir," I replied, caught between thoughts. "I'm Jack Willis, creative director, among other things. I understand Silverman already explained you why we called you here," said Jack as I tried to avoid staring at him too intently. "Yes, but he didn't give me any specifics, sir," I tried to sound a jack-of-all-trades, since O'Neil was still beside me. "That's all right," he continued. "The situation is very simple. We'd like you to evaluate the interest we may have in getting the contract from a certain company. Should you judge it's in our best interest, conquer them for us. We obviously expect you to close the deal within the week if you find it profitable and necessary. You'll be working with Miss O'Neil. She knows the whole city like no one else, and she will be much useful to you, I'm sure," "Of course, Tom," she responded, with no effort to sound much convincing. XXXXXXXXXXXX O'Neil made my life harder right from the first day. She "misplaced" files, seemed to forget almost anything that would be important or that would save time, and had always the most disapproving face she could maintain for hours on end. She seemed to take a special taste on seeing me buzzing around and getting annoyed by her petty games. My butt danced up and down as a provocation, all eyes on me every time I left my desk. I left the building pretty late. They offered me a drive home, but it was not Forest. That was disappointing, as the other driver had no appeal nor an answer about Forest's whereabouts. I called his phone, but he didn't answer. I thought about giving the pool a try, but I feared another disappointment. What if I went down there and found no one willing and able? I called home. Listening to my daughters moan about the distance and talk about their day really made me hate O'Neil and Jack Willis. After hanging up, I thought the night would be off with a bath and TV. Fortunately, I left the window completely open while I undressed, as I was used doing back home. It was part of a screening process that had become second nature to me. As I let my dress drop, I still had to open its bottom, revealing first my back to anyone who'd look through my window. From behind, one can see I have big breasts, but can only hope they really are as beautiful as they seem. One hopes I'll turn around before closing the window. Opening the bottom of the dress reveals just a glimpse of my butt cheeks. It delineates the curvature of my body making my waist seem even thinner and my hips even larger. Then comes the natural movement of leaning, butt up high, as I guide the dress down, lightly swinging my ass to ease the flow of the fabric. By then, I'd hope any jealous woman had already closed her window, leaving the show to lesbians and men eager to enjoy themselves. This beginning gives them time to discover me. As I said, this little pleasure has become instinctive to me, so I didn't quite think about it as I got ready for my bath. Later I understood it was during this routine that the man across the street discovered me. For a few minutes, I walked around the room just in my underwear, oblivious to his gaze. I only wore thongs. I like to feel sexy anytime, but I also consider them the only comfortable panties there are. They were white, and looking at them realized the fact that Forest would not be ripping them apart tonight. My bra matched them, although I always bought them separate. My breasts were too big to fit in bras sold in sets. The fabric was firm underneath, but from the nipples up the bra was softer and translucent. One could see the tips, but you had to look harder to be sure. Were they revealing enough for my stalker to see them up and down, as I organized the room and the coming bath? I put the dress carefully away, opened my suitcase looking for a comfortable nightgown, put the watch here, the cell there... Little things, as I mindlessly paraded my dark body through the room. I finally went to the bathroom. There wasn't much space, so I had to close the door a bit, leaving just a few inches through which he must have seen me taking the bra, then the panties off. There was a bathtub, but it was very small. Still, I had to cleanse myself from O'Neil and the long day of work. I enjoyed the bath for sometime, but I could not fit perfectly in the tub. I either stretched my legs far out or had to sit so straight my tits were completely above the water, shinning with soap. I finally got out. I put string panties again and a simple light yellow nightgown. Besides covering my breasts, it loosely went down to my waist, smoothly caressing the top of my butt cheeks. I cupped my hair in my hands and gently scrunched upward, in order to dry it neatly. It's a long process, so I just sat on the bed and watched TV. Only then did I realize the fact that I had left the windows open and lights on whilst I was parading around the room naked putting on quite the show for anyone looking at my room. I tried to look discretely to a mirror to my left. In the reflection of the mirror I could see the man in the building across from gawking at me. He seemed pretty close, so I tried not to make any sudden moves, and avoided laughing. I looked for something sexy on TV. The adult channels could not be accessed, and I didn't break the mood by calling the lobby. I found the next best thing, music videos from J- Lo rubbing every man in town. I came closer to the end of the bed, and rested my feet on the ground. I slowly opened my thighs. I wouldn't normally suck my fingers to prepare them, but I thought it would make clear to there stranger that he was about to get lucky prying on other people's intimacy. I licked them as if I had a beautiful cock at my disposal. Only then did I put two fingers inside my mouth and sucked them as tenderly as I would a cock. I found my other hand getting ahead of myself, already pulling up my nightgown. I rubbed myself over my panties, feeling how hot and moist my pussy was already. Only when I touch myself do I realize how much heat comes out of my horny cunt. Then my wet fingers came underneath my panties and met my electrified clit, eager for some action. I looked at the screen and imagined Jennifer's dancers voraciously coming down on me. I even imagined her watching it, jealously. I could feel my pussy responding to my imaginary lovers. It was so real I had to lie back on the bed. I had nearly forgotten my perverted real observer. I was feeling my own juices covering my cunt and soon wetting all over, inviting any cock. That brought the voyeur to my memory. I looked at the mirror found the distinct silhouette of him masturbating. I couldn't see his cock nor his face, so I began to imagine whatever and whomever I wanted to feel inside of me. I could provoke myself no longer, so in came my two fingers, while my other hand liberated my boobs from that gown and massaged them, first with a soft touch, then a hard grab, then softer again. I finally squeezed one breast until only my nipple remained between my fingers. I grabbed my cunt hard and fiercely shook my fingers inside of me, rubbing my clit with my thumb. I pressed my nipple hard enough for it to hurt. Then I let it escape through the pressure. I moved myself back enough to firm my feet on the mattress again. Like that, I lifted my ass as far as I could. Still touching and rubbing me, I got my nipple to my mouth and licked it, stretching my tongue. I knew he would see what I was doing even from that far away. I was about to cum, but I didn't want the show to end without a bang. I got on my knees, my back to the window. I took the gown completely out, pulled the thong down and rested my face on the mattress. My butt was completely naked, directly turned towards that horny bastard who was me making me so hot all alone in my room. I remembered Joseph's thick cock, the one that got me there in the first place, and stuck three fingers inside of me, as side by side as I could. I then pulled only the labia, each side with one finger. That left my clit completely vulnerable. I wished the man across the street would be close enough to see the light pink against my black skin. I wished he could smell the fierce arousal I felt, hearing the moans I let out uncontrollably. Pulling like that, I relentlessly rubbed my clit with the other hand, which soon made me burst, squirting like hell. I made everything I could to keep rubbing myself forever. When I had to stop, it was only because I fell down trembling, laughing, screaming. Electrified from time to time, my ass just rested there, defenseless. As the heat receded, I thought about covering myself, but I was still enjoying the idea that anyone opening their window would be greeted with sight of my shapely backside. I had, however, screamed too loud. The bellboy knocked. I came up and found my peeper's window closed. I also found out I had wet the window, the wall and the floor. I opened the door showing only my satisfied face, one shoulder, and my shin and foot, insinuating my completely naked body. The moment he asked if everything was ok, I could see it hitting him, the scent of a powerful orgasm claiming my whole room. Must You Solve Everything With Sex? Ch. 03 I woke up early, as I usually do when I sleep far from home. I got up, obviously not bothering to get any clothes on. I checked the phone, but there were no calls or messages, not even from Charlie and the kids. Guess they were ok with just that call the other night. I missed the girls, so sent a "Good morning" anyway. It would take them sometime to see and respond, since they were on their sleepy way to school, but at least Candice answered me with a heart accompanying the text. I put on a nice leather shirt, pretty tight to the waist, and then a bit loose. It has long translucent dark sleeves. It covers the torso completely, but the good thing about big breasts — well one of them — is that they look good if you show them and also if you hide them. Especially if you're not ashamed of extra volume, as I'd get from the jacket I'd use. I hung a nice silver necklace over my bosom. My pants were also dark with two silver lines by the sides, and they matched beautifully my boots and their 3.5 in. heels. I felt like a dark goddess, ready to kick O'Neil's ass and crush any balls that got in my way. Ironically, that morning they sent Forest, the ebony god, to take me to work. "I'm sorry I never called you back last night," he was very direct, "I was working until 3 a.m," "3 a.m.?" I asked, in a casual manner, "Doing what?" "Driving," he responded mysteriously. "That's all I do for the company," "When do you sleep?" I insisted. "When I can," he replied. "Well, when do you fuck?" I said hoping that it would fire him up. He laughed surprised, but answered, "Whenever I can," "That's very presumptuous," I provoked him, "for someone who stood me up just hours ago," "I'm here, now," there was that cocky smile I was beginning to get used to. I played with my necklace and was a bit sorry for not wearing any cleavage. I had really begun to believe they only sent Forest to get the newly arrived. I wasn't expecting him to give me a ride. Unfortunately, It seemed he did not understand my sluttish nature yet. Despite the flirting, he took me straight to work, and I arrived right on time, quite disappointed. looking for some clues as how to finally get into his pants, I prolonged our conversation in the car, forcing my breasts to pop between the front seats. "So, you never told me why we were working so late," I said, while caressing his shoulder. "Oh, just the usual," he said, as if I knew what I was talking about, then completed, "I was shepherding O'Neil's daughter," "What?!" I grabbed his strong shoulders as if containing a fall. XXXXXXXXXXXXXX Yet again, my slutty behaviour was about to bring me profit. I convinced Forest to come up with me, lying that I still had a few minutes. On our way up and then into the small kitchen, I heard a lot about the skinny bitch's daughter. Forest told me how that pain in the ass O'Neil couldn't control Jessica, her daughter, so she had hired him to accompany the young lady through the night life in Chicago,. He was supposed to keep her out of trouble, the best he could. "Has she fucked you yet?" I fired, trying to make the most of our time. H e didn't answer, just looked at me sort of displeased and disapprovingly. I followed with the obvious question, "How many times?" "She's nineteen!" He replied, as if that meant anything. "So?" I insisted. "From the first time she realised I would not give up the job..." Forest finally was being useful. After some moments I asked him "Does she have other children?" "Oh, that girl is trouble enough," he puffed some air and held the elevator for was to get out of it. I distinctively that remembered O'Neil had no ring, but wanted to confirm it: "Is she married?" "I believe they live together, yes. But I rarely see the father," With clear disrespect, Forest added, "He's a wimp," My mind wandered on divergent simultaneous tracks. On the one hand I started wondering if Forest didn't fuck as much sluts as I thought, just the one, or if his cock was not as amazing as his body. On the other hand I kept trying to imagine O'Neil as the mother of a troublesome whore. Was she sluttish as well when she got out of the office? Hardly, if she found the need to hire a giant driver to go around town with her daughter just because the girl liked to party. Would there be some prejudice involved if she knew about her daughter fucking the black driver? I had to turn that into valuable information... somehow. When I was forced to relieve Forest and get properly to work, my outfit got the usual response: the men leering and the women judging my proud breasts and my ass amply filling my tight pants. That was the day I had to asses the potential client. I did that. I had a meeting at their firm. I flirted a bit with the men and behaved extra-responsible with the women, and that was that. No surprises. There was no real challenge, so I couldn't take my mind off the woman who seemed so bitter and the daughter who enjoyed life so much. When I came back, I observed O'Neil a lot. She had no pictures of her daughter on her desk. From time to time, she received calls on her cell, but they always seemed serious or official. She was in better shape than I thought the first time I saw her. I realised she was older than she looked. I thought at first she was one or two years older than me, but she had actually to be on her late forties. I'm 36. The men, which were most of her colleagues, respected her very much. Not one person, man or woman, seemed to be her friend there. It was only my second day and I was already getting a sense of the major gossip subjects, so the isolation couldn't be blamed on her colleagues'. By the end of the evening, my curiosity was too great. I texted Forest "Where are you?" He answered with some specifics, and then gave me the real answer, the address of the club by which Jessica would be starting her partying. If the mountain wouldn't come, I'd go to the mountain. XXXXXXXXXXXXXX The club was a famous and expensive house. To go to a place like this, you really have very few options of clothing from which to choose, and they're all sexy. I chose one I love. It's a blue dress with a very low cut on the back. It reveals everything down to the lumbar, and it covers a bit less than half the thighs. The front sustains the low cut back, but it still manages to form a nice cleavage. A fabric gets a loose on top the breasts, giving the impression one can just pull it and see my boobs completely., which unfortunately is not completely true. Such a dress cannot go with a bra, so I obviously decided: no panties either. Most busty women get ashamed of their breasts without a bra. They think men (and other women) will find them droopy. It's bullshit. Proportion is the only rule there. My tits are right on their place, they just occupy much more space than the small tits of envious women. And men see boobs. Big boobs are big boobs, men are not here to judge, only to gawk. A tall heel made me feel like a towering sex machine walking through the night club. I expected to find Forest by the bar, or by the car, but he was nowhere to be seen. I tried calling him, but he immediately hang up. Then I received a message telling me to wait for him. I texted back saying I was in the club and looking for him. He answered he was about to find me, but I had no time to waste. I also thought he could be covering up for the girl, which made me feel even more urgency to find him. "Where d fuck R U?" I texted again. "Bathroom!" he answered naively. Maybe he did believe that would make me wait, but obviously it didn't. I approached the men's room. Very few men came in and out of it. As usual there was no line as there was in front of the ladies'. The girls didn't seem to care much about the area around the men's room, of course. They were all chatting, laughing, taking pictures or kissing while waiting to get in. Men, however, did notice when I walked into the men's room, but it seemed the kind of club where that wouldn't call too much attention in for itself. I wanted to shock as well as entertain Forest in there, but I was the one in for a surprise. What I first saw was some guys going hastily about their business, avoiding Forest. He seemed to be manning the door of one stall. That stall was shaking a bit. As the bathroom's door closed behind me, blocking most of the music from the club, I could hear some soft happy moaning coming from there. Forest seemed surprised and a bit pissed when he laid eyes on me. That's how I met Jessica, moaning first. So, the first thing I knew about her was that she would fuck someone in a club's bathroom and make her driver stand ground outside the stall, hearing her 19-year old moans, his cock so hard I could see his balls and his foreskin drawn in his pants. It couldn't go completely up, because of his belt, so it was thrown to the side. It seemed so uncomfortable, after all it was very long. I had imagine he was suffering, dying to be released from those pants. Well, he could count on me. I came in slowly, smiling, enjoying the big man under such a tight cuckolding position, put there by that girl still in her teens. After all, he had already fucked her, so he knew what he was missing, and controlling a man who has already fucked you is much more challenging that to control those that merely dream about it. He looked like a bull on leash, and a sex crazed bull at that. Although I enjoyed the sight, it made me too wet not to release him from it, preferably right into my mouth. I could feel the men stopping everything they were doing to stare at us, and then I heard them rushing out. Forest had given them the look. I smiled even more after that, and it was fun to see his eyes criticising me as I approached. I came very close and started caressing him over the jacket and the shirt. "What are you doing here?" He whispered. I could hear perfectly now how Jessica was enjoying whoever was fucking her against the stall, laughing as much as moaning. I could even see one of her hands holding the top of the door. It was a tall stall, but I could see her blonde hair popping up repeatedly. It reminded me of O'Neil's hair, which made me enjoy the situation even more. She was groaning as if every thrust was a pleasant surprise. I came down, still caressing Forest, until I reached his cock. As they fucked harder, they lost control over the door and it opened for a split second before being involuntarily shut down again. "Do you want them to watch, honey?" I teased Forest. "Aren't you proud of this big hard delicious black cock of yours?" He seemed to be fighting really hard to control himself, and even pushed me away discreetly, but he hit the stall with his butt while doing so. I saw the girl put her hand on the door and open it a bit behind Forest. There was O'Neil's daughter, held in the air by some tattooed hairy guy, her legs thrown around his waist, a floppy skirt pressed between her legs and her stomach. I couldn't see much of the guy, but the girl made an impression. Her hair flown around her happy naughty face, her light blue eyes shining through her blonde hair, which had just the tips painted of a blazing red. It was a nice view from where I was, kneeling in front of her driver, a hand over his cock. The tattooed guy couldn't be bothered and just kept fucking her in the same pace. "So, found yourself a bitch, huh?" She said winking at me, "C'mon! Fuck her now!" I liked her right away. "Yes, ma'am," he ushered. She let go of the door and it closed. "What are you doing, babe?" I teased him, while I still could. I started to open his pants, but he pulled me up very hard and manhandled me to the next stall, which had no door. I felt the sudden cold of the old moist plastic wall directly to my naked back. He forcefully pulled my dress down, completely revealing my boobs for him and anyone who'd come in, although Forest was all I cared about by then. One of his hands grabbed my butt from behind, almost violating my ass all by itself, while the other came up the dress brutishly grabbing my pussy. "No underwear, you whore?" he smiled, getting a condom from his inner pocket as if it were a classy cigar. I couldn't respond, only try to kiss him or bite his fleshy lips, dying to have him. But he thrust me against the stall another time and me look at his bulky great cock as he managed to put his condom. I was biting my lips, as I heard Jessica right next to me still enjoying her cock. "Please, fuck me..." I pleaded, pulling the bottom of my dress up to reveal my completely shaven pussy and my burning trembling inner thighs. I heard some sounds and Forest looked to the men's room door again, but I just grabbed his shoulder and begged, "Come on, I need your cock now!" My loins were on fire and I was really getting desperate. He grabbed me and pulled me up in his arms. I was impressed, since I'm much taller than Jessica, it's not easy to raise me in the air like that. But the poor fellow had been eager to fuck that blonde tease for too long, and maybe he'd been wanting to fuck me just as much, I hoped. "That's nice, honey," I whispered in his ear. "How long were you here, wanting to fuck that white cunt?" I could feel his cock forcing his way inside of me, his head feeling too big to ever coming in. I felt myself burning inside, but my cunt would not open that much this fast, even as wet as it was. "Oh, I bet that pussy is so hot. And she's tight, right? I bet you are so desperate to fuck her," He began to ram his way in, much faster and harder than the tattooed guy. I forced my pussy down on him, because I knew, as horny as he was now, he'd never last much. I felt the pain and pleasure of my cunt stretching too wide too fast. I could hear Jessica getting near to her climax right by my side. If she came, I knew Forest would go to. He came for my tits and I grabbed his head, burying his face between them. I always find it beautiful, as well as hot, to watch a man sucking my tits. They seem so peaceful, so at home, as if they really belonged there, their tongue so happy to play with one's skin and nipple. A man sucks a big breast as if praying, even when his hips are desperately fucking you in a public bathroom. It looked as though he could be there forever, sending soft and sometimes sharp weaves of pleasure down my body. Some of it inevitably went all the way down to my clit. I could feel my body stretching wide open, filled with his meat, as he seemed to split me in two. I heard laughs and contained cheers. More men had had the courage to stay and watch, now that Forest was not controlling them. He was completely taken, obeying his cock as it served me. I didn't care how many of them watched us. I wouldn't care even if Charlie came all the way from Denver to see me finally wrap my legs around this hunky brother. I knew he was hot for me, but it was too much fun to keep playing with the torturing tease his teenage boss had been imposing on him. "What do you want to do to her, honey?" I whispered again to Forest. "Don't you wanna just hit her for making you wait there?" As I said it, he came in deeper! I could not believe he had even more cock to push inside. "Making you wait as she gave her soft teenage pink pussy to any random guy?" He finally hit me, and seemed to enjoy it. He hit me hard again. "Yes, hit me, nigger! Hit her," I kept at it. Now he started to hurt my face, and I could feel my pussy in pure ecstasy. I came before anybody else. Then I heard the white boy and Jessica cumming. The guys around seemed a bit surprised as another couple was revealing by their grunts. Forest, on the other hand, wanted to enjoy Jessica coming and my trembling body shaking on top of his cock. He got away from me, grabbing my ass but letting my body arc back as only the top of my back kept touching the thin plastic that separated my cumming body from the white teen couple. I felt I could fall at any moment, so I threw my arms behind me, trying to stay firm, as my tits were jolted up. They kept their rhythm up and down, hitting my chin, weighing down and then hitting me again. Forest was fixed on my breasts dancing, clearing wanting to cum in order to enjoy the moment Jessica was experiencing right now, as he wanted to be that guy inside of her. I, however, was the clever one enjoying his cock ever harder, pressing and hitting my cervix. I thought I was going to cum again. And when he actually came, his cock pumping hard inside of me, I did came again. Even though he was wearing a condom, I screamed as I imagined all of him cum taking me. As he lost his strength I came rolling down his body. I wanted his cock to be there forever, pulsing and filling me. I hugged him, smelling his scent, as well as sex and sweat. My heels were almost reaching the floor when a lot of fast sudden things happened. I saw a man punch Forest and another grabbed me. When he pulled me, I lost my balance and fell to the dirty bathroom floor, tits and dress getting wet by who knows what as I hurt my knees and hands. I heard Forest fighting two men, but they were even bigger and stronger than him. We were getting thrown out. We, the black couple, were arrested. Jessica and her white boy got away with it.