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Boss Lady

By: L.A. Wicker



Thank C.R. for all your help with my last few stories

When I first started posting here I was embarrassed about my writing, but now I feel very proud of what I do, my real name is L.A. Wicker, I wish I could change my username to that. Thank you all.

******************

“Damn, I hate that bitch!” Carl muttered as he walked from the building. Carl was a short, fat and rude person that nobody really liked, they just put up with him. “Friday night, five o’clock and she want every computer counted.” He added looking to his friend Todd. 

Todd just tilted his head, “Well, it’s her company and she pays us pretty good.” He said thinking that he didn’t mind. He had more time to look at her wonderful, mature body.

“Oh fuck! That tight ass cunt is a millionaire and pays us crap. You just pull wood for her old dried up ass.” Carl laughed looking back to Todd. “Give me your lighter so I can light this up.” He smiled pulling a fat joint from his shirt pocket.

Todd laughed at his stupid friend, “Can’t you wait until we’re out of the parking lot?” he gave Carl a dirty look. “What if someone sees you? I don’t want to loose my job, I like it here.”

“You fuckin’ freak, you just like her old ass. You need to find a nice young girl your own age to sit on your cock.” Carl said pointing to Todd. “Man that bitch is old as your mom.” Carl added making a sour face. “It would make me sick going down on some old cunt like her.”

Todd shoved Carl into a car; “Fuck you man! She’s not a cunt and I think she’s a babe!”
He took a deep breath, “The way her blouses hug her breasts. She always wears a matching bra under them, in the morning her nipple are always so hard they stick out a half inch or more.” Todd smiled and went on, “The way her pretty, blonde hair lays just above them makes me crazy. Oh God and the skirts are out of this world. Her ass fills them better than any girl here does. And when she sits down, her long sexy leg comes out the side.” Todd smiled feeling his cock coming to life.

“You little fuck! You’re hard for an old lady!” Carl yelled to Todd. “Find your own way home, PUSSY!” he yelled again getting into his car and drove away.

Todd kicked his foot on the ground and started the two-mile walk home. He only hoped someone he knew would see him and give him a ride home.

Peggy Jones stepped from behind the company truck, not believing what she had just heard. Todd Pollen had defended her and knew so much about her. Not normal things, but tantalizing sexual things. Peggy had seen him looking at her a lot, but never thought he liked her so much. She thought of him looking at her hard nipples in the morning and smiled.

“Mr. Todd, I would have never guessed you knew so much about me.” Peggy said and could feel wetness forming inside her body. The body that hadn’t had a man inside, for over 15 long years.

‘BOOM’ a crash of thunder rang out in the air. 

“Oh shit!” Peggy said running to her Phoenix Red Jaguar XKR. The rain began to pour down as she tried to get the car remote from her purse. “Come on! I’m getting drowned here!” she yelled out pulling it from deep within the purse. Once inside she looked over her soaked body. “Piss! This blouse better not get stained.” She said looking to the white silk blouse that she had paid one hundred dollars for. “Mmmm, how nasty!” she purred seeing that it had turned transparent and her rounded breasts could be seen as plain as day. She gave her hard nipples a little pinch and started the car.

Todd walked through the pouring rain with no hope of getting a ride. He looked ahead to see a gas station and would wait out this summer storm there.

‘HONK HONK’ Todd turned to see a beautiful car beside him.

“Come on, I’ll give you a ride!” the woman yelled from inside the car.

Todd ran the other side and jumped in as fast as he could, “Thank you!” he said looking to see Peggy Jones sitting behind the wheel with a big smile. “Hi, I never would have dreamed you’d stop to give somebody a ride.”

She looked at him, “I saw you walking before it started raining.” She lied; she had been looking for him as she drove down the street. “Why didn’t your vulgar little friend give you a ride?” she asked knowing why.

“We got into a little fight.” Todd replied, not wanting to tell her the real reason. How could he tell her they got into a fight over her?

She smiled at his answer, “Don’t you have a car?” she asking looking to him and saw him looking at her breasts through the wet blouse.

“Um, no. I live at home with my mom and we can’t afford one right now, but we’re saving for one.” Todd replied being a little embarrassed at telling her.

She just smiled and drove down the street, feeling his young eyes looking over her wet body. She glanced at him and saw him looking over every inch of her. From her supple breasts down to her firm legs.

“Todd, do you think I’m a bitch?” she asked and seeing him put his hands over his cock. She laughed to herself thinking the poor boy had got a hard on looking at her.

Todd gave her a funny look, “Why do you ask?” he replied glancing back to her right breast.

“Just wondering what you guys say about me when I’m not around.” she smiled at her young admirer. 

He looked to her big, brown eyes, “Some of them say you have a cork up your ass and some say you’re a bitch, but most like you. You pay us good; we get off all the holidays.” He said hoping she wouldn’t be upset.

Peggy laughed at Todd, “A cork up my ass?” she looked to him with a smile. “What do you think of me?” she just had to ask him. She was dying to hear such sweet things said to her face. She couldn’t remember when the last time a good looking man had told her how pretty she was.

Todd’s face turned red, “I like you.” He smiled to her, thinking that he should have said what he really thought. How much he wanted to hold her, love her, and be inside her sexy body.

“Thank kind sir.” Peggy replied feeling the warmth between her long legs. “How long have you been working for me? Three years now?” she asked thinking she had to do something nice for him after all of the wonderful things he had said about her.

“Yep, going on four at the end of the summer.” He smiled looking down to see her long right leg and the top of her stocking.

Peggy moved her leg to free it from under the skirt; she was beginning to really get excited at Todd looking at her this way. She knew that tonight her toy would get a good work out. “Are you going to apply for the Tech job?” she asked Todd. “I think you should, I’ve seen you fix a computer faster than anyone in the building.”

“I think Carl wants it.” He replied glancing at her leg again. 

“Fuck Carl, you’re a hundred times better than he is and I like you not him.” She froze at what she had said. Now her young admirer knew she also liked him.

“Thank you. That means a lot coming from someone as pr… nice as you.” Todd stuttered out.

‘Pretty?’ Peggy thought to herself. He was crazy about her and deep down she loved having a 20-year-old guy horny for her 45-year- old self.





2.

Peggy walked into her bedroom, kicking of her high heels and walked to the mirror. “Damn, that little guy made me horny as hell!” she said reaching under her breasts giving them a good firm squeeze. “Oh I need a good fuck.” She added knowing darn well that she really needed someone to hold, kiss, and love her.

Peggy slowly reached to unbutton the blouse, letting it fall to the floor. Her hands gently caressed her flat stomach, working their way to the thin bra covering her aching breasts. She unclasps it letting it fall to the blouse on the floor.

Her fingers softly circled her hard nipples, sending waves of pleasure through her lonely body. “Todd my young friend, you have succeeded in making me very excited tonight. To bad you’re not here to see me like this!” Peggy giggled and began to roll her hardened nipples between her fingers.

“Mmmm, I’m on fire!” she moaned out in the empty house, wishing she had a man to please all of her desires. “I guess it’s ‘toy’ time.” She said moving to her big lonely bed. She lie flat out on it, reaching under one of the pillows, she pulled out a ten-inch vibrator. “Good to see you friend. A very handsome young man has turned me on today so be ready for a long night.” Peggy giggled turning it on.

She began by running it over her stomach in slow circles. Making sure she teased her belly button, she had always loved it to be teased. She slowly moved it towards her hard nipples, thinking of young Todd looking at them with lust in his eyes.

“I wish I had a sweet man to suck you.” Peggy moaned looking at the vibrator as it moved around her hard nipples. “He could suck you in his mouth real hard and pull away, letting you ‘pop’ from his mouth.” 

Peggy closed her brown eyes, moving the toy lower, lower down her stomach to the lonely spot between her long, slender legs, “Oh my God!” she cried out when the vibrator ran over her panty covered clit, sending a rush over her body. “I hate this! I need a man to do this!” she sobbed as she moved the hard, cold vibrator into her warm pussy.

“Mmmm, yes!” Peggy moaned as the toy sank deep inside her wet, heated pussy. “It’s so good!” groaned giving the vibrator a long twist back and forth while pinching her left nipple. “Yes! Yes!” she cried knowing a well-needed orgasm was near.

Peggy thought of Todd. His long blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail, his glasses slid to the end of his slender nose. His firm cheekbones covered by a fine layer of hair. She thought of the very tight jeans that covered Todd’s slim hips and that wonderfully large bulge between his legs.

“OH SHIT!” Peggy screamed when her hot pussy could take no more. She exploded around the slim vibrator with a force that hadn’t been felt in a very long time. Her new admirer had brought her great relief. “Oh Todd fuck me! Fuck my pussy hard!” Peggy screamed again thinking of the young man on top of her body, pounding his nice cock into and out of her lonely pussy as hard as he could thrust it in.

She pulled her long legs to her breasts and drove her toy in more, “Todd! Yes! Yes! Fuck me! Fuck me, my handsome young man!” Peggy cried out with her hand pumping the vibrator in and out of her pussy as fast as she could go.

3.

Todd stood at a workbench looking over a computer, “How’d ya get home Friday night?” Carl asked as he walked by Todd laughing. “Still got that old bitch in your mind or did that rain wash her dried up old cunt from your…?”

“Fuck you, ass hole.” Todd snapped on his friend. “She is a babe and you know damn well you ever got the chance you’d fuck her, too!” Todd added pointing his finger in Carl’s face. “So shut the fuck up!”

Carl was shocked at Todd; he had never seen him like this in their ten-year friendship. He walked away not saying another word to Todd.

“Good morning Miss Jones.” Todd heard someone yell from the loading dock and he could hear the loud clicking of her high heels on the shop floor. He felt his heart beat increase with each of her long strides towards him.

He turned to see her wearing his favorite outfit. A blue business suit with a baby blue blouse. “Good morning, Todd. How are you this fine morning?” Peggy asked moving next to him and looked to see what he was working on. “I expect to see your application for the Tech job by lunch.” She smiled and brushed a long strand of hair from his face.

“I’m fine, and how are you today?” Todd asked seeing that she looked very good on this Monday morning. She seemed much rested and there was a nice pink color on her face. “I’ll have my application there waiting for you.” Todd added smelling her sweet perfume going up his nose and straight down to his growing cock.

“Very good. Drop it by my office at...” Peggy looked to her watch and thought of a good time for lunch. “At noon.” She smiled seeing Todd had his eyes glued to her hard ‘morning’ nipples. She had given them a good twisting before walking into the building. She had remembered that Todd loved seeing them in the morning.

Todd returned her smile, “Sure thing.” He said looking into her very alluring eyes wondering what it would be like seeing them as he kissed her full red lips.

“Until noon.” She said giving him a wink with her right eye. She turned and walked away knowing a pair of young eyes would be watching her. Therefore, she added a little more sway to her hips as she walked across the shop and into the office area.

“Oh God I want a piece of your ass so bad!” Todd said as he watched her firm ass and the great wiggle it had today. He went back to work on the computer, thinking of her touching him and that great ass of hers. Trying to imagine how good it would have looked in sexy pair of white panties with his face buried in it.

Later that afternoon, Todd looked at his watch, “I better go get an application or she might kick my ass.” He laughed heading off to get one from the office.

He walked into the office seeing Miss Jones and some of the office girls laughing and giggling about something. Miss Jones had a reputation of being very unfriendly, so this was very strange for her. Todd enjoyed seeing her pretty face filled with a big, warm smile instead off her normal cool businesswoman look.

“Well, look who it is.” Miss Jones said giving Todd one of her new warm smiles. “Ladies make sure my new Tech man gets help in filling out his application and when he’s finished send him into my office.” She added turning away and vanished into her office.

“Shit!” Sasha Barnes said with a shocked look on her face. “What’s gotten into her today? She must have got laid over the weekend or something.” She added pulling a paper from a file cabinet and put it in a computer printer.

Todd looked to Sasha, “Who knows, but it sure looks good on her.” He said smiling with a mental picture of her great ass still in his mind.

“I’ll fill in everything for you and then all you have to do is sign it.” She said as she began to type on a keyboard.

4.

Todd knocked on Miss Jones office door; “Come in.” he heard and made his way in. She sat at her desk in her giant chair; she had taken off her jacket. Peggy pulled her arms over her head knowing it would give Todd a great view of her swollen breasts.

His eyes took in the beauty off her rounded breasts and could see that her nipples still were very hard. "Here it is, right on time.” He grinned at her looking into her eyes handing her the application making sure he looked to her swollen nipples.

She took it from him, making sure that she lightly touched his hand. “Very good, I’m glad you did it. Have a seat.” She said crumbling up the paper and tossed it in the trash can next to her desk. “You really didn’t need it; I was giving you the job anyhow.”

Todd watched as she stood and walked around the desk. She reached behind her moving her nameplate on the desk and slowly sat down, giving Todd a perfect view up her skirt. They gazed into each other’s eyes as she leisurely crossed her long legs.

“What about the other’s that wanted the job before me” he asked giving her legs a quick look over.

Peggy laughed at his words, “Fuck them! They didn’t stand up for me like you did Friday afternoon.” She replied looking into his eyes. “They didn’t say all those wonderful things about me.” She added as she began to unbutton her blouse. “They don’t know my breasts the way you do.” She pulled the blouse from her skirt. “They don’t know my nipples the way you do and how excited they are in the morning.”

Todd watched as Peggy pulled the blouse off her shoulders and tossed it on the floor exposing her wonderful breasts. His dream of seeing her had come true. Her nipples were still very hard and so full of hot blood.

“They don’t gaze at my firm ass the way you do, if they did I’d fire them.” She giggled unzipping the skirt. “I’ve always felt you looking at me and for some strange reason I never cared, but I enjoyed it so much.” She grinned and let the skirt slide down her stocking covered legs to the floor.

Todd could feel his long cock coming to life as he looked at her wonderful hips and legs. She was his dream come true. Her hips were so smooth and so firm. Her pussy looked wet as her dainty panties covered it.

“I’m yours. You may do anything and everything you want to me.” She smiled seeing his eyes light up. “I’ve never had anyone say nicer things about me in my life.” She added as tears formed in her pretty eyes. “I’ve thought of nothing but you all weekend and only hoped you really meant want you had said.” By this time tears were running down her face and dripping on her breasts.

Todd stood, looking at the beautiful woman before him. He grabbed her by her arms and pulled her against his body. “I didn’t mean a word of it.” He said looking into her shocked eyes. “What I really wanted to say was how much I loved you and wanted to make love to you until we passed out.”

A happy smile filled her pretty face as she leaned her mouth to his, “Hope you know that I’m lost in you already. So be easy with me.”

They began a nice slow, deep kiss as Todd moved his hands around every inch of Peggy’s body. He caressed places she had forgotten about. They kissed and kissed as Peggy enjoyed her young lover’s hands on her burning flesh.

“Oh please!” Peggy gasped trying to catch her breath. “Love me!” she moaned as she rubbed her soaked mound against Todd’s growing cock. “Fuck me hard!” she begged rubbing on his shaft more.

Todd took her graceful hand and led her to the sofa just to the right of her desk, lying her down he asked, “Can I do a few things first?” he asked sitting on his knees, leaning to her swollen nipples. He kissed each of them with great care, making sure each nipple received the same amount of love.

Slowly Todd kissed his way down her silky body, kissing every inch as he moved lower. Peggy softly moaned each time that his warm lips touched her flesh. She hadn’t been loved in so long.

“Oh Todd!” Peggy purred as she enjoyed the touch of a man. “I’m on fire!” she moaned when his lips met her soft panties. She looked into his eyes, “Please me with your tongue, Please!” Peggy begged him remembering how much she loved to have a hot tongue deep inside her wet pussy.

Todd smiled up to the beautiful woman and began to trace his tongue over her wet pussy mound. Kissing, licking and sucking every inch of it, sending Peggy into a state of rapture.

“Oh my God!” she screamed arching her back with delight as he pleased her burning pussy. “Eat it, please!” she cried out as he teased her more. “Please!” she moaned.

Todd pulled down her soaked panties, exposing the most private part of a woman, “Yes!” he moaned seeing her bare pussy and how swollen she was. He began placing small kisses on it, letting his tongue move over the swollen clit.

“Todd!” Peggy screamed when he touched her inflamed bud sending a rush of hot blood through her already excited body. She watched her young lover as he continued kissing her special place and the care, he showed in pleasing her.

He kissed deeper, letting his tongue enter her body for the first time. He savored the taste of the woman under him. He had tasted young girls, but never a woman like this. “You’re wonderful!” Todd gasped looking up to Peggy.

She returned the smile and gently caressed Todd’s face as he pleased her body. She watched him move between her legs, lying with his face on her pussy, he began to drive his tongue deep inside Peggy. “Oh fuck!” she screamed out not knowing the office workers were coming back from lunch. “Yes!  Oh Todd eat my pussy!” she screamed again.

“Oh my Lord!” Sasha laughed as the girls moved closer the door. “Todd is fucking the shit out of her!” she said leaning closer to door.

“Okay, I need your cock in me.” Peggy said looking to Todd as he ate her wet pussy. “Please put your hard cock in me!” she begged him. It had been years since Peggy had the pleasure of a stiff cock up her pussy. For years, she had been using her toys, but today she needed the cock of a young man inside her.


Boss Lady



Todd moved up her body, kissing his way up, “You need some cock, pretty lady?” he asked kissing her swollen nipples. “Need my hard cock up your wet pussy?” he teased her wanting to hear her say it.

“Yes, I need your hard cock in me!” she moaned out thrusting her hips up to try and get his cock in her.

Todd moved in a way so that she couldn’t get it inside her pussy, “Tell me where you want my cock.” He teased knowing where she wanted it, but he had always wanted to hear a woman to talk dirty.

“I want it in my pussy! I need it up my cunt!” she screamed pulling him to her hips with her long legs. “Fuck me, now!” she demanded him. “Fuck me or I’ll fuck you!” she said with ice in her voice. She needed him inside her flaming pussy.

“Easy baby, I just want you to have fun.” He replied kissing her lips, and slid his long cock deep in her mature body.

Peggy froze as he submerged deep into her body. It had been so long since a ‘real’ cock had been in her. Her eyes rolled back into her head and she gasped for air as the shock rushed through her burning body. “Mother fucker!” was all she could moan out when their hips met and he was all the way inside. “Oh Todd! Fuck my pussy. Make me cum!” she cried out looking into his eyes to see the pleasure that he was also enjoying.

“Yes! I’m going to cum fast. I’ve never been inside anyone as nice as you!” he moaned feeling her body as it began to suck his cock. Her inner muscles were getting ready to orgasm. “Squeeze my cock!” he moaned again and began to thrust in and out of her once lonely body.

Peggy clamped her muscles around his thrusting shaft, trying her best to please her young lover. “Make me cum!” she purred pushing her hips up to great his incoming cock. “Oh yes!” she cried feeling the fire building deep inside her hips.

“Your pussy is great.” Todd sighed as he moved faster in her body, feeling her muscles gripping his shaft. He had never in his few years of sex felt anything as nice as the way her body squeezed him. “Harder! I’m ready!” he gasped out thrusting in her as deep as he could. “I’M CUMING!” Todd screamed as his long cock began filling her mature pussy full of cum from a 20-year-old man.

Peggy wrapped her long legs around his thin hips and drove him deep inside, “YES! YES! OH MY GOD!” Peggy cried out when his hot seeds shot in her. Sending her into a massively intense orgasm. Her hips thrust against his hard young cock, grinding her swollen clit against him.

The office girls listened in shock, Todd was fucking Miss Jones and she was loving it.

“Oh Lord!” Peggy said with a big smile. “I hope you know I’ll be needing lots more of that.” She added caressing his hair and still enjoying the feel of a hard cock buried inside her wet pussy.

Todd welcomed her words, “I’m glad because I’m a very horny guy.” He replied sucking her left nipple into his mouth, pulling away, it ‘popped’ from his mouth.

“Let’s get up; I’m sure the girls have had a real blast listening to us.” She stood, pulling on her blouse, skirt and walked to the door, opening she said, “Sasha. Call the printer, tell him we need new business cards and letter head with the words, Todd Pollen, Vice President added to everything.”

Sasha smiled, and replied, “Yes Ma’am.”

Todd never worried about getting another ride home and Peggy never slept alone again. 

The end, please remember to vote.



Boss Lady



Paul looked at his watch as the lift doors opened. 9:15!

He was 15 minutes late! That would not normally be a big deal, except the dragon lady - Paul's boss- had warned him the next time that he was late would be his last!

He carefully opened the office door, getting a knowing look above her glasses from Jordi the receptionist. The look said "You are totally fucked, now, and you deserve it!"

Jordi smiled that insincere smile she was so good at , and Paul ignored her and walked slowly into the open plan office, hoping above all hope that the dragon lady was out , in a meeting or had not noticed his late arrival. He glanced casually at the glass wall to Ms Roberts's office, and his heart missed a beat.

She wasn't there!

She was out! Paul allowed himself a wry smile at his good luck. With a spring in his step, he walked round to his cubicle. 

What he saw was not his empty chair in front of his workstation. 

It was the Dragon lady!

"Hello, Paul!" said Ann Roberts, with a faint smile curling around the edge of her bright red lips.

"I, er,...Ms Roberts, I'm sorry , I , err..."

"Save it, sonny Jim!" interrupted Ms Roberts. 

"I'll give you until 6:15 this evening to think up a good reason why today should not be your last day with us. See me then in my office. Capiche?"

Paul nodded. He felt a churning feeling in his stomach. The dragon lady intimidated him at the best of times, but he hated her having a reason to make him feel bad. She seemed to take a perverse delight in making him feel bad. Which she did.

Regularly.

Paul couldn't afford to lose this job. He cursed himself for having that wank in the shower. The caress of the warm water. The creamy lather of the shower gel. Why was all shower gel like sponk? He had squirted some of the creamy, milky, opaque fluid into his palm. Spread it on his skin. Felt the caress of the viscous fluid on his warm, wet skin. Idly rubbed the suds over his flaccid cock. Felt the thrill of his foreskin gently retract. The tingle of his hand pumping the head of his cock. The sensations are greater when his cock is not hard. Hand pumping faster now. More shower gel squirted into his palm. Cock hard now. Day dreaming of licking pert young breasts, sucking hard pink nipples.

Hand pumping furiously.

Heart pounding.

Cock throbbing.

Breathing faster.

The cum nestled in Paul's palm. White and viscous and opaque. Just like the shower gel.

He felt the delicious release. His spine turned to jelly, as it always did. 

As he felt the kiss of the warm water on his skin, he surrendered to its touch. Oh my god! The time! Paul had quickly got out of the shower, dried himself, and raced to the bus. But too late. It was that wank that had made him late. And now it might cost him his job.

All through the day, Paul racked his brain for a reasonable story. Apologise? Invent a story? Tell her to stick her job? He decided to apologise and seek forgiveness . He hated having to humiliate himself in front of the dragon lady, but he could see no choice. He needed the job. Maybe she might relent.

Maybe.

At 5:30 the office staff started drifting away. One by one they went. Paul was usually gone by now. He lingered at his desk. Pretending to work, but he was too distracted to concentrate on work. Finally, the clock ticked over to 6.15.

6.20

6.25

6.30

Time dragged on. Paul wanted to get it over with. Why didn't she come and get it over with? 

His phone rang. Paul answered it.

"I will see you now" sneered Ms Roberts.

Paul steeled himself and rose from his seat and walked towards Ms Roberts's office. As he walked through the office, he saw empty seats and computer screens showing screen savers. He felt a little vulnerable. The cockiness that he had felt earlier disappeared.

He walked to the door which was ajar. He knocked gingerly.

The dragon lady ignored him. She was listening on the phone, smiling and she gestured for him to sit down on the chair opposite her desk. He sat, she stood.

She stood in front of him, and reached across him to push the door shut. The door clicked behind him. As she stood in front of him, he could smell her perfume. It was incense like, aromatic and strong. This close to her, he could see her lacy bra through her white blouse. She stood over him, making him feel small. He wondered if he should look up. What is she was looking down at him, and she caught his eye?

He decided to look straight ahead. But all he could see was her blouse and the outline of her breasts. She was a little too close and so Paul looked away nervously across her desk. Papers, files, journals. No photos. She had no friends he thought. The conversation dragged on, and finally she sat down and crossed her legs. She was staring at him, talking away. She played idly with the telephone cord, wrapping it around her finger, all the while maintaining eye contact with Paul.

He felt his cheeks colour at the intense stare from this powerful woman who had the right to hire him and fire him. Why didn't she just get it over with?

Finally, she brought the conversation to a close and put the receiver down. 

"Now then," she said in her schoolmistress style that she reserved for such occasions, "I've kept you waiting a little bit longer than 15 minutes Paul, haven't I?"

Paul was surprised. What was this question? 

"Cat got your tongue? I said I've kept you waiting haven't I , Paul?"

"Yes, Ms Roberts" Paul said, like a naughty school boy.

The dragon lady grinned at him. She knew that he was putty in her hands, and she was loving it. She thought for a moment, and looked beyond Paul to the office outside.

"Go and turn out the lights in the main office please."

Paul looked up and she nodded with her head at the open plan office outside her own office. Paul walked outside and turned off the banks of switches, until the large room was bathed in an eerie blue glow from the monitors. He walked back into Ms Roberts's office. She was still seated at her chair, but something, Paul couldn't say what , was different about her.

Did she have her hair down, before? He couldn't recall.

She asked him to close the door behind him, which seemed a little unnecessary, as all the other staff had already gone. It just served to increase his feelings of trepidation. 

"Why shouldn't I give you your cards, right now?" she asked.

All of his carefully rehearsed responses deserted him. His mind went blank. Panic set in.

"Mrs Roberts, I can't afford to lose this job"

"Mrs Roberts?" she repeated, quizzically.

"So you insult my intelligence by arriving late, then insult me further by assuming that I would want to debase myself by marrying something way down the food chain, like a man?"

Paul felt himself flush. He knew he would end up feeling inadequate, and it had come true. He was annoyed with himself, and felt more exposed than ever.

"Why were you late?"

"I don't know Ms Roberts"

"Talk me though your morning, Paul. What time did you wake up?"

"6:30"

"That should be plenty of time to get to work for 09:00. How long is the bus journey, 20 minutes? So you must have left the house at 08:50 let's say. So what were you doing between 06:30 and 08:50? That's more than two hours!"

Paul felt his cheeks colour. She saw his cheeks colour. She could smell his discomfort, and she loved it. She decided to carry on. She stood up , stood over him, bent forward and rested her hands on the arms of his chair, and looking him full in the eye said:

"What takes two hours in the morning, Paul?"

He was intimidated by her presence, he scent was more pungent, and as she leant forward over his chair, he could see down the front of her blouse. Her breasts fell forward, each cupped in a lack bra. He could see the scalloped edging to the bra, the curves of her full breasts, and the valley between them.

She knew this, of course, and let him drink in the vista.

"Are you looking down my blouse?" she asked, indignantly.

"No, Ms Roberts"

"You wicked boy!" she sneered, and tugged at the back of her blouse to end the peep show. 

"What exactly were you doing for two hours this morning, or is this display of lasciviousness sufficient clue?"

Paul remained silent. What could he say? Cornflakes don't take two hours to eat.

"Were you masturbating?"

Paul was shocked. He didn't really know what lasciviousness meant, though he knew it was bad, but he knew what masturbation was, but he didn't know how Ms Roberts knew! 

He glowed, and looked at the floor.

"Well, if you like it so very much, you better show me what is more important than getting ready for work."

With that, Ms Roberts say back down in her chair and joined her finger tips together in a steepling gesture, and stared that searing stare that seems to drill into your very soul.

Paul felt uncomfortable. Very uncomfortable. Was she serious? Did she really want him to wank in front of her?

She answered him in the most direct way possible. She stood up suddenly and grabbed hold of his tie and yanked him to a standing position. She said "hands on you head!" which he did obediently, and then she undid his belt, undid his trouser button, and slid down his zip.

Before Paul knew what was happening she slid his trousers round his ankles and he stood there half naked in front of his boss!

"Well go on" she encouraged him

"You had no problem this morning, did you? I want to see how this takes two full hours"

He didn't dare make eye contact but eventually he looked and she nodded at him to continue. His cock was coming to life and he slid his hand under his shirt to hold his cock in his right hand. Her eyes watched him intently, like she was judging his performance. He casually dragged back his foreskin, and felt that supreme thrill of forbidden fruit. His cock was hardening now, and so he mechanically tugged at his cock.

"Put some effort into it!" she barked, like a drill instructor on the parade ground.

He quickened the pace. She was smiling now and Paul saw her adjust her position slightly in her chair. Is this how she get her jollies, he wondered?

If she was a drill sergeant, his cock was saluting her now, but she barked another command as his pace quickened.

"Kneel down!"

He looked surprised at her. But she repeated the instruction. His heart was beating faster now as the effort of wanking had raised his heart rate.

She stretched out her leg, with a black leather shoe encasing her foot.

"Kiss it"!

"Kiss it!"

He obeyed his mistress.

"Take it off"

"Kiss my foot"

He could smell the leather, feel the warmth, smell her scent.

He kissed her foot gently, and he fancied that he sensed her recoil, as if she shivered with delight. 

"Higher"

"Higher"

"That's enough!"

"Now the other foot"

He rained tiny kisses on her stockings, on her feet, her ankles, her calves, behind her knees, on her thighs, but she stopped him before he could do any further.

With his head between her thighs, tightly clasped together, his nose one centimetre from her panties, she gripped her legs together, and felt such power coursing through her body she could feel her juices flowing.

He drank in her scent and felt the warmth of her body, all sound shut out by her thighs on his ears. A muffled sound in the distance said:

"Gently, and slowly, roll down my stockings. First the right one"

He obeyed, dutifully.

"Now the other one"

"Place them on that chair"

"Take off your shirt"

She climbed out of the chair and sat on the edge of the desk, stretching out her legs in front of her. 

"Kneel here"

She indicated for him to kneel in front of her, between her legs.

"Take off my panties"

He eased them over her bottom, lifting her off the desk one buttock at a time.

"Put them in your mouth"

He complied with every instruction now without question, as his cock was bobbing up and down like a buoy at sea.

"Masturbate again, only call out my name while you do it"

He needed no second invitation, and he eagerly wanked his cock while muttering "Ann", "Ann", "Ann"

He looked ridiculous. The panties in his mouth meant he couldn't speak properly and she watched as he wanked hard calling out her name. She guessed he was ready to come, so she asked him to stop.

"Enough"!

"Kiss my feet" 

He looked at her quizzically. He wanted to come, but she wasn't letting him. Reluctantly, he kissed her foot, her calf, her knee, the back of her knee, her thigh and waited for her to stop him going any higher.

The request never came.

His tongue licked her thighs where her leg joined her body and he traced gentle tongue strokes, expecting her to stop him. But her eyes were tightly shut, if he could but have seen, and she was willing him to penetrate her lips with his silver tongue and taste her wetness.

Eventually, he boldly gripped her buttocks in each hand and drew her body towards him, before planting the most sensitive kiss on the lips of her pussy. She shuddered with excitement. But he persisted, running his tongue along the length of her lips, flicking her clitoris on each stroke. She could feel his unshaven roughness against her smooth skin, and he nuzzled her soft thighs, before parting her lips gently with his fingers, and sucking on her clitoris, gently at first, but more boldly as her body told him that she wanted more.

He licked, and sucked, and bit, and kissed her pussy for what seemed like an age, 29 minutes, to be precise, before his knees ached from the hard floor, his cheeks stung from her juices on his skin, and her body finally arched its convulsion of pleasure as he thrust three fingers inside her sopping pussy.

She leant back on the desk, drinking in her orgasm, enjoying the ecstasy, ignoring him. He had long since lost his erection, and she didn't care. She shut her eyes tight, and meditated upon the moment. When she opened her eyes he had gone. Clothes, shoes, shirt, all gone.

She smiled a secret smile, and dressed herself, before writing a letter to Human Resources requesting that they terminate Paul's employment immediately.



Boss Lady



I've been working for the same company for the past six years, just the typical schmo who works 9 to 5 to pay the mortgage and keep the wife and kids happy with their comfortable lives. Jessica, my boss, was promoted to her position last year- leapfrogging me making me "her assistant". On the outside, she is very attractive, 5-6, blonde, blue eyes, cute little body. However she has bitch written all over her. She can be sweet as pie one moment, then tear you apart the next. The past few weeks have been strange around the office. She has been ordering me around, making me run errands that we have mailroom guys for, yelling at me in front of my coworkers, and making me work late hours. She knows that I really need this job and she wants to see how far she can push me. Last night, I think it went too far.

At about 5 o'clock, I was finishing up this ad campaign that I had been working on forever when she came into my office and slammed the door. She ripped up the proofs that were on my desk and screamed at me "This is not going to work! I want a new ad written tonight!"

I pleaded with her saying that the client loved the text and the ad would work, but to no avail. She looked outside the door seeing that most of the office was leaving for the day when she turned to me and said coldly "You're fired"

I sat back in my chair dumbfounded and found myself begging for my job. "Please...."

"No, no..." she replied back.

"But, my wife, kids, bills..." "I can't lose this job. I'll do anything!" I was pleading like a common beggar to keep the life I had built up.

She slowly turned around, closing the door, looked me dead in the eye and said "you are pathetic. But, you need to play by my rules if you are to stay here, little boy"

I didn't know what to say or do at that point. I just awaited her next move. She sat down in the chair and ordered me to fetch her cup of coffee – "dark and sweet" I quickly poured the cup and handed it to her. 

As she lifted the cup to her red lips she muttered "get down here" and pointed to the floor in front of her. I slowly bent down and she yelled "kneel!!" 

The next thing I noticed, I was kneeling in front of this girl looking up at her as she slowly opened her legs. She had on black knee highs that ended just a cut above the hem of her skirt and she was not wearing panties. As I gazed up her long legs to her nicely trimmed pussy, I couldn't help but think about my wife at home.

Until she commanded "lick me!" I hesitated for a moment, and then found myself helpless to her authority. I gently started to nibble and lick her slit peering upward every few seconds to see her sipping her coffee staring back down at me as if I were her lap dog. She would let our a slight groan every now and then until she grabbed me by the hair and handed me her coffee cup and said "fill your mouth up – don't swallow the coffee" There I was on my knees with a mouthful of hot coffee waiting her next command. 

"Purse your mouth on my cunt and make me warm! And don't get any coffee on my carpet" I held the coffee in my mouth and opened it slowly over her mound. Now she started to buck up and down with delight. "Yeah Fuck Yeah" I slurped the coffee out of her cunt leaving it nice and warm.

She climbed out of the chair, pulled her skirt down, and stuck her ass in my face. For the next few minutes I nuzzled my face in my bosses' ass, licking her tight little asshole for what it was worth. I could hear her sighs of enjoyment as I gave her rimjob. It gave new meaning to "brown-nosing". I couldn't believe what was going on, but I went along with anything she said at this moment knowing very well I went past any line of decency I had.

" Enough!" She called as she pulled away from my face. "Take my blouse off bitch!" I unbuttoned her blouse and bra to expose her 36B breasts. Instinctively, I began to suck on her tits until I felt her hand slap me hard in the face. 

As I stepped back, my face was stinging, she coyly said "I didn't give you permission boy" 

"um, okay" I replied (thinking to myself that she'll ask me to continue anyway), but then she commanded "I want you to fuck me NOW."

I quickly pulled my pants down and let my raging hardon come to the light. I slowly started to slide my cock into her awaiting pussy when she wrapped her hands around my ass and pulled me inside her hard. 

"Fuck me hard boy!" She clawed her hands into my ass and propelled her wet snatch onto my cock and slid it in and out. I started to bang her harder and harder releasing some of the tension that has been building up inside of me Her tits were swaying, her head was rocking side-to-side, and her legs dangled aside of me as I continued to plow deep inside of her. After a few minutes, I felt her body tense up and she squealed that she was coming. Hearing her grunting and squealing brought me closer to coming myself until I exploded-sending my semen deep inside my little boss-lady. After I came, looking down, I saw her smile and wink at me and then in the very next moment her expression changed and she said for me to get off her. 

Adjusting herself, she ran her fingers between her legs and slid her middle finger inside her wet and gooey honeypot. 

"Mmmmm, left something here???" I started to smile and then she let out her last command "Lick this mess out of me boy" 

Again, I obliged.. I wrapped my arms around her waist as I dove in and licked her pussy clean. I had her tightly within my arms as I could feel her cum again in my mouth. Afterwards, she threw on her clothes and went out the door. I stayed until midnight finishing up the project to her liking.

The next morning, I came into my office and found a cup of coffee and a note to meet her in the board room NOW!



Boss Lady



Ross looked at the torn-out magazine page tacked onto the wall of his cubicle. In the picture, a man lounged in a reclining with a drink in his hand. A bikini-clad woman, who looked a little like Carmen Electra, leaned against a palm tree and gazed blissfully at the man. The headline across the top said, "Palm Resort and Spa -- The Sexiest Singles' Scene on the Beach"

Ross sighed.

"One more day," he whispered to himself.

He had the next morning all planned out. His alarm would ring at 5:30 a.m. He'd drive himself to the airport, board the plane and try to live a life that didn't so closely resemble hell. If it all worked out, he'd be sipping a daiquiri on the beach before noon. All that lay ahead was one week's vacation -- his first since taking a job analyzing computer code three years ago. Maybe he'd even get laid by a real woman, not his usual, which was a hooker or some transsexual weirdo he'd meet in an Internet chat room.

Ross heard his boss' voice down the hall. He couldn't make out the muffled words but could tell she was closing in on him fast. Breaking himself from his daydream, he shook the mouse on his computer to remove the screen saver. A spread sheet popped up just as the boss rounded the corner with her assistant. Ross hunched over to make it look like he'd been closely studying the screen.

"Hello, Ross," the boss said.

Ross spun on his swivel chair and rubbed his eyes, as if they were strained from hours of analyzing numbers. When he looked up, the boss was standing uncomfortably close to him, as she usually did.

"Hello, Mrs. Michaels," he said.

The first thing he noticed was her scent, which never failed to knock Ross off guard. Mrs. Michaels wore an expensive French perfume that he recognized from a peel-and-sniff ad in Vanity Fair.

Lisa Michaels was a beautiful woman who knew how to use her sex appeal to get what she wanted. It was simple with Ross. All she had to do was talk to him. He became a stammering mess. Authority figures and sexy women always made him nervous. Merge the two into one and it was more than he could take.

Ross had to work hard not to stare at his boss' tits. Even under her gray jacket, they looked huge --- a D cup at least, he though. She left the top three buttons undone, exposing the top of a lacy, pink corset. Ross forced himself to look higher. His eyes slowly moved up to the pearl necklace hanging elegantly around her neck. He made himself keep going until he reached Mrs. Michaels' deep, brown eyes. Her gaze always left him wondering if she wanted to fire him or fuck him.

"Ross," she said, "I'm leaving for Portland tomorrow and will need you house-sit for me. I'll be gone about a week. You can stay in the guest bedroom and eat whatever is in the fridge."

"But Mrs. Michaels," Ross said, "I'm supposed to leave for vacation tomorrow. It's my first in three years."

Her face turned to stone.

"I see," she said. "That's disappointing. I was really counting on you to be a team player."

Ross gulped. Any employee deemed to not be a team player was instantly fired. And it didn't take much. One analyst got canned for leaving work two hours early to take his grandmother to the doctor.

Ross forced a smile onto his face.

"Oh, you can count on me, Mrs. Michaels!" he said. "I don't know what came over me. In fact, I eagerly look forward to the opportunity to help."

The edges of Mrs. Michaels' mouth curled up, which wrinkled the corners of her eyes. The wrinkles reminded Ross that Mrs. Michaels was about 15 years older than him. It was easy to forget with that body of hers.

"Good," she said. "Well, see my assistant before you leave today. She'll give you the key and directions."

"Yes, ma'am," Ross said.

Mrs. Michaels stomped away. Ross watched her hips sway. Even after she shit-canned his vacation, he couldn't help but appreciate her sexy switch.. Her tight, little ass and slender legs were almost too perfect. Ross guessed that she worked out everyday.

When Mrs. Michaels' rounded the corner down the hall, Ross snatched the magazine ad off the bulletin board. He took one last look at it before crumpling it up and tossing it in the trash can next to his desk.

By the time 5 p.m. arrived, Ross was absolutely stewing. He'd spent half his afternoon on his cell phone in the parking lot. The airline and the resort had refused to refund his money or allow him to reschedule. He was out about a month's pay, thanks to Mrs. Michaels' last-minute trip to Portland.

When he left work, he swung by his apartment to pick up a change of clothes and his laptop before heading to Mrs. Michaels' house. She lived in Ravenwood, a ritzy subdivision about 10 minutes from the office.

He turned on her road just before dusk and saw just how rich his boss had become since founding the company. Every house had at least an acre of green, manicured lawn surrounding it. Parked in each driveway was either a BMW, Lexus or Mercedes.

Ross had trouble finding the house and ended up driving through the neighborhood twice before realizing he'd been missing a narrow driveway wedged between two bushes. It led into what looked like an empty lot filled with trees. But then Ross noticed Mrs. Michaels' address painted on the curb.

The driveway wound up a hill for a quarter mile before a house appeared through the dense, green forest. From the outside, it looked like a small, single-level home that blended in with its leafy surroundings. But the inside was jaw-dropping. Mrs. Michaels' favored a modern design with leather furniture, abstract art and a giant flat-screen television that hung on the living room wall.

Ross heard his stomach growl. He dropped his duffle bag in the living room and went into the kitchen. He checked the fridge. There wasn't much. He helped himself to some salmon spread and crackers and washed it down with soy milk. It was enough to quiet the rumbling.

Ross set his laptop on the kitchen table and flipped it open after dinner. He searched for a Wi-Fi connection and, upon finding one, went to his favorite Web site, www.freeones.com. Ross began his nightly porn ritual. He started with softcore-- just chicks stripping off lingerie-- and moved to cum shots. Within an hour, he was rolling his nipples between his fingers while watching transsexuals jizz on each other's faces.

The same thing happened every time he started on the porn: An irresistible urge to dress in lingerie sunk into his groin and refused to budge until he shot a load. Most of the time, he'd jerk off and be done with it. But on special occasions, he'd give in. Ross would buy or find a slutty outfit somewhere and play dress up. When the urge was strong enough, he'd find another cross-dresser who wanted a blow job.

His mind flashed on the corset Mrs. Michaels had worn under her business jacket. He realized that she probably had a whole drawer full of sexy unmentionables. What a thrill, he thought, it would be to dress up in his boss' lingerie. Stupid? Yes. But fuck it.

Ross half-ran down the hallway and found the master bedroom. He switched on the light. Almost everything in the room -- from the bedspread to the plush carpeting -- was white and immaculate. He tip-toed to a chest of drawers, as if Mrs. Michaels might be able to hear him. Then he realized how ridiculous this was and started checking drawers, starting at the top and working his way down. He hit the jackpot on the third one from the bottom.

Just as he'd expected, Mrs. Michaels had a drawer full of expensive lingerie. Bras, panties and stockings sat in neatly folded stacks. A lace bag of potpourri, tied shutwith a pink bow, kept it smelling fresh. Ross carefully lifted a stack of bras to see what was underneath. He found exactly what he wanted -- a lacy, black corset with matching panties and stockings. Ross pulled the outfit out of the drawer, taking note of its position so he could put it back in the exact same spot.

He stripped off his khakis, boxers and blue shirt and threw them onto the floor.

Squeezing into Mrs. Michaels' corset wasn't easy, but he made it work. The garment had about a dozen hooks in back. Ross found it impossible to fasten them all behind his back, so he put on the corset backwards and then twisted it around his torso. Ross finished by slipping his arms through the shoulder straps. To his surprise, his tits almost filled out the cups.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Ross slowly unrolled the thigh-high stockings up his legs, careful to not put a run in them. He knew that the four straps hanging off of the corset were supposed to fasten to the stockings tops, but he didn't know how. Ross figured it out after about a dozen false starts. But even then, he had to redo each strap a couple of times to make sure it was straight.

The last part of the outfit was the easiest to put on. He slid on a pair of thong panties and did his best to tuck his cock and balls into the little triangle of fabric up front. The string settled nicely in his ass crack. Ross knew from watching porno videos to put on the panties last. That way, he'd be able to take them off quickly to get access to the genitals when he needed them most.

He looked at his reflection in a mirror hanging on the closet door. Ross knew he had too many bulges in unusual places to pass for a woman. But he felt sexy as hell. The corset, stockings and panties squeezed him in all the right places. It was as if the garment had a mind of its own and was passionately feeling him up.

Ross walked with a feminine lilt into the living room. He opened the glass door on the entertainment center and scanned Mrs. Michaels' CDs. It didn't take him long to find something totally appropriate: Madonna's greatest hits. He put the disc in and hit play. Sound poured from speakers hidden in the walls, filling the house with Madonna's voice: "Come on girls! Do you believe in love? 'Cause I got something to say about it. And it goes something like this."

Ross bounded back into the bedroom and then into the adjoining bathroom. He took a moment to admire the layout. A four-person Jacuzzi sat in the corner. He could see through a glass door that the shower was big enough for two and had two gold shower heads on opposite ends of the enclosure. The bathroom had two sinks. When he looked under the first one, he found shaving supplies, apparently for Mr. Michaels. But Ross hit the jackpot again when he looked under the second sink -- Mrs. Michaels' perfume and makeup.

Ross pulled out the makeup kit and set it on the counter. He found the sluttiest shades possible and laid them on thick: black eyeliner, red lipstick and gray eye shadow. When finished, Ross sprayed his wrists with perfume and checked his work in the mirror. Not bad, he thought. He wouldn't pass for a woman, but he had plenty of Internet buddies who would accept a blow job from him.

The thought of a man's cock in his mouth energized him. "Vogue" was pumping through the speakers. He started striking poses like a fashion model. A voice in his head directed: "Give me pouty. OK, now sexy, Now flirty. Yes! Work it, baby, work it!"

He'd totally lost himself in the music when he noticed one pair of hands clapping out of tune with the music. Ross' first thought was that he didn't remember "Vogue" having a hand-clap section. But then it registered that the sound wasn't coming from the speakers. It was in the room with him. When Ross turned his head, his stomach leaped into his throat.

Mrs. Michaels was leaning against the bathroom door with a look of disgust on her face. She was wearing the same business suit and corset as she did at the office.

"Bravo," she said mockingly. "You want to tell me what the fuck you're doing?"

"I-I-I thought you were in Portland," Ross stammered.

"Flight was cancelled," Mrs. Michaels said.

Ross scanned the room for something to cover himself. There was nothing, not even a towel. He'd have to go through Mrs. Michaels to get to his clothes.

"This isn't what it looks like," he said.

"Oh, really," she said. "Then tell me what it is."

"Well," Ross said, "I guess I just got to thinking, and I just wasn't sure if you'd mind, and..."

"Save it!" Mrs. Michaels snapped. "It looks to me like you're a little, fairy. What I want to know is if you're a fairy who likes the cock only, or if you like the cock and the pussy."

"Oh, Mrs. Michaels," Ross said, "I love the pussy. You don't know how much I --"

"Save it!" she snapped. "Get on your knees."

Ross hardly believed his ears.

"What?" he asked.

"You heard me, bitch," Mrs. Michaels said. "Get on your fucking knees."

Ross kneeled on the cool tile floor.

Mrs. Michaels locked her gaze on him and slowly unbuttoned her jacket. She held her arms out to the side and shrugged it off. Without averting her hawkish eyes, she unzipped her skirt and let it fall to the floor. She had an even more spectacular body than Ross imagined. A corset-and-stockings get-up, much like the one Ross was wearing, squeezed her body into a sexy hourglass figure. The heels made it all the better by emphasizing her two best assets: her tits and ass. She let him take a look before stepping forward, stopping a half inch from his nose. Through the sheer, white panties, Ross could see that Mrs. Michaels had recently trimmed her pussy hair into a neat Mohawk.

Without uttering a word, Mrs. Michaels put her hand on the back of Ross' head and forced his nose into the thin fabric. She grinded her pussy against his face, rubbing her clit on the bridge of his nose. Her panties were already wet. Ross inhaled deeply, enjoying the musty scent.

Mrs. Michaels suddenly took a step back and looked at the boner poking into Ross' panties. The corners of her mouth curled up, wrinkling her eyes.

"So, you DO like the pussy," she said. "I'm glad. You can be useful to me."

Ross wanted to ask what she meant, but before he could, Mrs. Michaels' cell phone rang.

"You stay right there," she said.

From his spot on the cold tile, Ross watched Mrs. Michaels go into the bedroom and dig the phone out of her purse. He could hear only her end of the conversation, but he gathered from the context that her husband was on the other end. It didn't take long for it to turn nasty.

"...Well, fuck you too," Mrs. Michaels said into the phone. "...None of your business what I'm doing... Yeah, so what? I'm listening to Madonna. I can listen to my own CDs whenever I want...No one... Well, which one of your whores do you have with you in Aspen?... Yeah, I bet...Fuck you, too."

Mrs. Michaels snapped the phone shut and hurled it across the room.

"I fucking hate men!" she screamed. "One is stealing my lingerie! The other is fucking some whore in Aspen!"

She pointed at Ross.

"You," she said, "Get in here."

Ross got to his feet and walked into the bedroom.

"Closer," Mrs. Michaels said.

Ross inched forward.

"Closer," she said again.

Their noses were an inch apart. Mrs. Michaels slapped Ross on the cheek. It shocked him more than anything, but the sting lingered.

"You want to know what it feels like to be a woman?" Mrs. Michaels said. "Then I'm going to show you. Get on your fucking hands and knees on the bed."

Ross did as he was told without question. Mrs. Michaels disappeared into a walk-in closet, leaving Ross to wonder what she had in store for him. He was sure he'd be fired. It was now only a question of how much pain and humiliation he'd have to suffer before she let him go.

Mrs. Michaels emerged from the closet with a strap-on dildo protruding from her pelvis. She stood in front of Ross and let him watch her squeeze a dab of lube in the palm of her hand. She stroked the long, white, slender shaft, as if it were her own cock and then climbed onto the bed, positioning herself behind Ross.

He noticed that the closet had shut most of the way on its own. Ross could see their reflection in the mirror hanging on the door. Mrs. Michaels kneeled behind him and gazed contemptuously at his ass. She suddenly grabbed one of the panty strings on his hip and tugged. She was trying to tear the panties off of his ass, but they wouldn't give. Mrs. Michaels pulled harder. The string burned as it pressed deeper into his flesh, but Ross didn't take complain. The panties broke before Mrs. Michaels' will did. She threw the frayed mess into the corner with his khakis.

"Spread your fuckin' ass cheeks," she said.

Ross reached back to do as he was told. Without his arms to support himself anymore, he buried his head in the comforter and waited in darkness for Mrs. Michaels to make the next move. She touched the tip of the dildo to Ross' asshole without sticking it in, left it there for a beat and then pulled back. She began rocking her hips back and forth, teasing him with the plastic cock.

"You know," she said, while pushing the dildo against his bunghole, "I love abusing the shit out of you."

He felt her take the dildo away.

"You're just a faggot bitch, you know that?" she asked.

Ross grunted.

"Shut up!" she snapped.

Mrs. Michaels pressed the dildo against his hole again, this time harder than before. It was close-- so damn close-- to breaking the surface and slipping inside him. Ross surprised himself by wanting it badly.

But Mrs. Michaels pulled away.

"I'm gonna bang your shit so fuckin' hard," she said.

When Mrs. Michaels rocked forward again, the fuckstick slipped inside Ross. He gasped.

"Like that, huh?" Mrs. Michaels asked.

Without waiting for an answer, she slowly slid the dildo deeper into Ross' ass pipe. He grunted with joy as it filled him. But Mrs. Michaels didn't give him a full taste of the rod on the first stroke. When it was halfway in, she stopped and pulled back just as slowly as she entered.

Ross felt his tits sway as Mrs. Michaels began to fuck him. With each stroke, she picked up speed and thrust the rod deeper into him. She knew exactly how to pound him without causing pain. The fuckstick caressed something deep inside Ross that he never knew existed. Whatever it was, it caused his prick to swell. No one had touched his cock. Yet, he felt like he could've burst right there. But he didn't. Ross held back. He sensed that Mrs. Michaels had more in store for him. He didn't want to ruin it by shooting his load early.

Mrs. Michaels' thrusts started slowly and lovingly but quickly became angry and punishing. Her fingertips dug into Ross' hips. The rod went all the way inside him each time she pushed her hips forward. 

"You fucking like that, you faggot weirdo?" she asked breathlessly. "You like getting fucked like a bitch?"

Mrs. Michaels gave Ross' bunghole one last thrust before pulling out. She unsnapped the strap-on dildo and threw it in the corner in one fluid motion.

"Get on your back," Mrs. Michaels said, while kicking off her heels. "You're going to eat my pussy."

Ross flopped onto his back as Mrs. Michaels detached the corset's straps from her white, thigh-high stockings. She propped one leg onto the bed and hooked her thumbs under the stocking top. She pushed the sheer fabric down her leg, revealing a milky thigh. After easing around the bend at her knee, she slid the stocking past her sleek calf. Then she did the same thing with the other leg.

Ross watched with helpless yearning as Mrs. Michaels struck a Marilyn Monroe-style pose and reached down to her knees. She slowly righted herself, gently caressing her own flesh. She drew her hands over her thighs, stomach and tits before twirling her finger around her string of pearls and throwing a flirty smile at Ross. With a sexy tilt of the head, Mrs. Michaels pivoted on one foot and reached behind her back with one hand. She unbuttoned the corset one clasp at a time with a speed and grace that amazed Ross.

He admired her ass -- two perfect bubbles split by a white string without a pimple, hair or bruise in sight. Mrs. Michaels slid her thumbs under the panty strings at her hips and swayed back and forth as she pushed them down her lovely legs. Ross realized he was seeing his boss naked for the first time. It made him want to cum in his panties.




Boss Lady



Mrs. Michaels lunged at the bed. She landed with her knees by Ross' ears. Her hot, wet cunt was on his mouth. His nose was buried in her ass. Mrs. Michaels had put herself in the 69 position but remained upright, making it clear that he was providing the sexual favor, while she kept her options open.

"Suck my box, motherfucker," Mrs. Michaels said.

Ross pumped his tongue as far inside her as it would go. Mrs. Michaels moaned and dropped her full weight onto his face. Ross couldn't see much, but he could tell that his nose had become wedged into the crack of Mrs. Michaels' ass, almost directly on the bunghole. But he didn't mind. There was no foul odor, only the mingling of her perfume and the musty scent of her pussy.

Ross furiously worked his tongue as Mrs. Michaels pinched his nipples, rolling them between her fingers. She let go to lean forward and wrap her lips around his cock. He showed his appreciation by moving from her fuckhole to her clit, where he licked as hard and as fast as he could. He could feel the cum rising in his loins as Mrs. Michaels blew him. But he refused to spray. Not yet.

Mrs. Michaels, though, didn't hold back. Ross felt her shudder. She righted herself and let her pussy juice dribble all over his face. When she stopped shaking, Mrs. Michaels flipped onto her back and locked an intense gaze onto Ross.

"Shove your cock inside me," she said breathlessly.

Ross leaped to his knees. He crawled between Mrs. Michaels' legs and set his cock on her wet pussy lips without pushing himself inside. Her body heat drove him crazy, but he wanted permission before making the next move.

"Fucking do it, bitch!" Mrs. Michaels screamed.

He pushed himself inside her. Her cunt felt like a silk purse. He thrust himself all the way in on the first stroke and went at her hard and fast. Not because he wanted it that way, but because he knew Mrs. Michaels would. She confirmed it.

"Use my cunt!" she yelled, as he pumped away. "Fuck my cunt! Stick your cock up my hairy fucking cunt!"

The pressure in Ross' balls had become unbearable. He couldn't hold back any longer without bursting a vital piece of plumbing. Mrs. Michaels must've sensed it.

"Cum in my mouth!" she yelled.

He pulled out of her pussy and lunged forward with his dick in his hand. With his knees by her ears, Ross shoved his cock in Mrs. Michaels' mouth and uncorked himself. The amount of jizz that flowed was almost inhuman. Mrs. Michaels eagerly accepted the entire load. She wouldn't let him take his dick back until he'd squeezed every drop into her mouth.

The relief had been sublime.

But Mrs. Michaels wasn't done.

Without saying a word, she pushed Ross off of her chest and then wrestled him to his back. She positioned her mouth about six inches above his and grabbed a handful of Ross' hair to hold his head in place. Her mischievous eyes met his. Then Ross noticed the white stream rolling off of her lips, toward his. He opened wide.

Ross accepted his own salty dick snot into his mouth with as much eagerness as he'd shot it into hers. When the last drop had fallen into his mouth, Ross closed and swallowed. He'd never felt so humiliated in his life.

But he liked it.

Mrs. Michaels released him with a smile. She disappeared into her closet and quickly returned wearing a silky, blue robe. She leaned wearily on the door frame. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Ross could still feel the corset and stockings squeezing his body.

"Congratulations," Mrs. Michaels said. "I'm promoting you to director of special projects."

"Really?" Ross asked. "What's that?"

"It's a position I've just decided to create," she said.

"What will I do?" Ross asked.

"You're going to be my sex slave," Mrs. Michaels said. "I'm raising your salary 20 K a year and giving you another week of vacation. Deal?"

Ross looked down at his cleavage and smiled.

"Oh, yeah," he said.

"Good," Mrs. Michaels said. "Now get the fuck out of my house."

Ross quickly stripped naked, leaving the corset on the floor, and then put on his khakis and blue shirt. He gathered up his computer and duffle bag and made a beeline for the front door. As his hand touched the knob, Mrs. Michaels' voice called down the hall, "Ross!"

"Yes, Mrs. Michaels?" he asked.

"Have fun on vacation," she said.

"Thanks," he said. "I will."

Ross opened the door and ran to his car. When he was clear of the driveway, he turned on the radio. He laughed out loud when he heard the song. It was "Vogue." He cranked the volume and sang along all the way home. 



Boss Lady



The job was interesting only the boss was difficult. She required Jim to work late on reports which she took the credit for when sending them to head office. He knew his time would come but when it did he was surprised how bizarre and complete his revenge was. As usual Mary informed him of a meeting with clients at the last minute on a Friday afternoon. She would pick him up at the tube station near the restaurant so all he had to do was go home and change. Luckily he had a change of clothing ready and the journey in both directions would give him a chance to get up to date with the client who was bringing his wife.

"Jump in, I don't want to hang around." She said as he scrambled into the passenger seat. Before he had the door shut she was off pushing into the evening traffic. Jim kept quiet, a tactic he had learnt from experience, it was better to find out what kind of mood she was in before starting a conversation. 

They arrived before the client with time for a pre-dinner Gin and tonic. He was surprised to see her drinking as it revealed something of her nervousness, after all she was known for having such hard front. The smiles were polished on both sides as they sought some common ground, introducing each other, following the waiter into the dinning room. They reached the ordering stage and still no mention of business had been made, the whole atmosphere reminding Jim of being presented to prospectives. 

All four settled down to adjusting their bottoms into the plush seats sipping their first drink, except it was Mary's second. A mobile phone sounded and the two men patted pockets while Mary peered in her purse all three apologising. The buyer's wife seemed to awaken from a dream suddenly scrambling for the phone that was ringing. At first annoyed then excited she handed the phone to her husband looking on in fear. It was the baby sitter with the news their son had fallen down the stairs. In a fluster the buyer rose from the table telling the waiter to get his coat. 

Mary was obviously trying to get round to asking about the deal or another appointment only Jim kicked her shoe away and at the last moment she restrained herself. "I'm sorry about this we had better meet them at the hospital. Such a stupid idea leaving him with that adolescent babysitter. You've got the deal by the way. I'll call you tomorrow." The buyer said while wrestling with a coat sleeve. Mary held up well ignoring this last remark completely to make soothing and solicitous remarks over their son. They were obviously late parents and doted on the child which had now been damaged. They were between tables in full sail, coats flapping, toward the exit when Mary thumped her arse down onto the leather seat.

Before the door had swung shut she was ordering another drink in celebration. "Thank you, thank you, and I don't even have to suffer that fat bore for a complete evening. What a bonus. At the word bonus she shut her mouth and looked side long at Jim not wanting him to catch on about this extra sale meeting the target for an annual bonus. It would be hers all hers she thought. "Well let's enjoy the rest of this evening. There's some sort of entertainment I don't know what it is as Plastic Bob there," She shrugged in the direction of the door, "wanted this place for the meeting." 

"Do you know why he's called Plastic Bob?" Mary smirked. Jim knew all right for he had read the file too but let her tell him anyway, just to keep the peace. 

'Hell,' he thought, 'it's like being married to a nagging wife without the sex.' Or it had been up till now.

"His secretary told me. He phones his wife on her birthday and anniversaries from the office and tells her to put it on the plastic. It's amazing what us women can find out."

A magician came on to muted applause. Both groaned and quickly looked around to make sure they hadn't been overheard. The first time they had ever been in agreement on anything. It wasn't a large venue and the place had gone quiet as though everyone there felt the same dread. Three people enthusiastically clapping only made it seem more embarrassing, perhaps they were stooges trying to whip up enthusiasm.

The routine started with slight of hand magic tricks then a request for volunteers brought a groan from Jim. "It's a fix." She said. 

"There's no way I'm going up on stage." He told her. 

"He won't call us, it'll be some one he knows." 

Waving her hand to prove a point she was surprised to be picked and with a devilish grin she pulled Jim up too. Hypnotism was the next part of the act and Jim involuntarily grimaced. He tried to relax for they were in the full glare of the lights on a small stage. Mary crossed her arms before her chest as though to say 'I dare you to try it on me.' She looked toward Jim beaming him a desultory smile. 'Oh thanks.' He thought. She'll be telling them in the office all about the stupid antics he makes me perform and making some up too. She was the type to suggest something awful for him to do.

Jim was thinking of the embarrassment rather than listening to the spiel until the magician told him. "Your not a good subject so you can help out. Don't let any of them leave the stage." 

'Right!' He thought. 'Mary had been right, the fake would be using his cronies from the audience in the act.'

To his surprise Mary was standing lifeless waiting for the magician's order to perform. How did that happen, or was she pretending. The others were capering about in a silly routine with the audience nervously laughing. One fat chap was demanding of anyone who came close "Too much, I want it cheaper." Another victim was selling ice cream from an imaginary tray and it seemed to be melting from the way she was frantically reacting. She tried to sell her imaginary wares to everyone and the fat man made her particularly frenzied.

Is your wife a prude or is she game for a laugh?" He asked. 

Knowing the man meant Mary, Jim answered. "Yes." Then before he could correct himself the man whispered in her ear. She came to life and capered after the others. 

He couldn't work out for a moment what she was supposed to be doing, and then it dawned upon him. She was soliciting. Sauntering up to each man on the stage she was offering tricks at a fiver a go. When the microphone was thrust between her and a prospect everyone heard her offering herself. The fat man kept telling her she was charging too much. In desperation to make a sale she was becoming more explicit with her hands becoming bolder with every discount. When she squeezed her breasts together offering them, the audience laughed raucously and clapped loudly when she hiked up her skirt. It was probably more to do with the idea that he wasn't about to ask for more volunteers than the act. When her language became a little too risqué the microphone moved on while she smoothed her body up and down the fat mans' belly. 

For a fleeting moment Jim imagined them naked and cringed. Everyone was led off stage to a round of relieved applause. In the corridor his victims queued outside his small dressing room waiting in turn to be released. He was ensuring they were well and was just short of asking them to sign a release form. The three of them squeezed into the dressing room and the man took a swig from a flask. He asked. "Does she nag much then, she looks the type." He winked at Jim who nodded with a weary lift of his shoulders. The man's breath fumed a bitter whiskey cloud in the small room. "I could leave the hypnotic suggestion active if you like. Just say the phrase and you would have an amenable wife for a short while. Just don't leave her under for too long at a time." 

Jim was about to tell him she wasn't his wife but then an image of Mary performing some silly trick in the office next day swamped his mind. Before he could think it through the man was pocketing a wad of notes and ushering him from the room. Wondering at his stupidity he led her back to the table. As soon as she sat down Mary spoke. "I told you it was all a farce." Jim jumped a little in surprise, once more confronted by this up tight boss lady, wondering what she would find fault with next. At least she didn't remember the embarrassing performance of a few minutes ago.

Mary paid the bill and they were outside waiting for the car before he could get his thoughts together. It wasn't cold but the chill of her voice made him shiver as she expected him to thank her for a company paid dinner that was a meeting and had taken up his Friday evening. "You had better drive I've had too much to drink." She ordered. With a sigh he opened the door for her and stepped around the car soaking a shoe in a puddle. Outside her house she told him. "It's not far to the tube station from here, just down the road and turn right you can't miss it. Don't forget that report for Monday morning." 

He handed her the key and on the spur of the moment said the phrase. She stood there with arms at her sides waiting. Not believing it had worked he wondered what to say not wanting to make a fool of himself. "Could you give me a lift home?" Before he could continue she answered.

"Yes." She told him. 

"Wait." He said. That would be no good, how would she get back home unless he said the other phrase at his house then she would wonder where she was and how she got there. He would have to trudge home after all. Frustrated he blurted out. "You can give me a kiss good night instead." Surprised at how enthusiastically she moved in on him he took a deep breath and said. "More." This time he was ready and held her close pressing his body to hers in a passionate embrace. "You can ask me in for a coffee." He panted.

Sitting in her lounge waiting for a coffee he began to calm down and regret the careless suggestion. This was silly. He should go. First he would have to say the phrase to bring her round. He would have to give her an instruction not to remember any of this and not to come round while he was there. It occurred to him the coffee cup would have to be washed before leaving, as she would wonder about it in the morning. "It's getting too complicated." He said to the empty room. It was more spacious than his flat and what he appreciated more was its warmth. 'It must cost a fortune to heat this place.' He thought.

His boss sashayed in and sat next to him on the sofa. She moved close and whispered in his ear. A soft sensation at first, growing louder more confident purring the words. "What else would you like, sir? Would you like a nice blowjob or the whole thing? You want to enter me don't you? Where would you like to put it in me, sir?" She whispered, while massaging his thigh slowing moving a hand to rub meaningfully between his legs.

He hadn't realised she was still under the instruction to act as a hooker. He nodded vaguely amazed at what she was doing. That was all it took for her to slide on to the floor at his feet between his knees. The zip was down and his hardening cock was in her hands. "That's two handfuls there sir." She told him with a sly smile of enticement. As her mouth drew close to the end of his cock she cooed in excitement. "It's big and beautiful. So nice." She sighed with enthusiasm.

Looking down at her big brown eyes he could almost believe the fake enthusiasm of a whore she thought she was, he wanted to. How was he going to get out of this? Surely she would remember this outrage and would fire him and prosecute him for rape and he would be forever unemployable. 

He watched her open mouth close in on his rock solid member. She hesitated with it between her open lips not quiet in contact looking up at him with a look of longing. He wanted to thrust forward burying himself in her face but couldn't move. Was she going to suddenly laugh at him and tell him he had been fooled? Not a chance. Mary was the office prude; she had gone too far to let him down now. Yet the thought kept nagging at him as skilfully as her voice did in the office. Perhaps it was a dream or it was him who was hypnotised. God was he on stage pretending to thrust out his cock before an audience of strangers.

The lips moved forward so slowly it was hard to detect a movement until the touch was made upon the end of his trembling erection. Every nerve ending seemed to be burning for the contact. He watched as the tight pressure of her full voluptuous lips engulfed his cock. His boss was sucking his cock! He could feel her tongue flicking its head probing its eye, exploring it. He watched mesmerised as her head slid forward, her tongue pressing along its length until he felt it pressing against the base of his cock. Her nose was against his hairy belly, her chin against his balls. 

Jim sat on the sofa staring at her face, into her eyes. Those big brown eyes hadn't left his for one moment seeming to say, 'This is for you, just for you.' His boss had swallowed his cock. He could feel it tight down her throat. In a rush her face moved back and he thought she was biting his hood only it was her lips gripping tight. His mouth fell open with a groan. Her head moved forward again sucking him in. He wanted to lean back with his eyes clamped shut but couldn't possibly miss one iota of what she was doing. His boss was fucking her face on his cock!

All he was conscious of was her face and he was about to come. When she gripped the base of his cock he became aware of the touch and that it had been there all the time. Her other hand had been rolling his balls. The grip tightened and she asked. "Do you want my pussy now?" 

Looking into her deep eyes he swam around helplessly until meaning crept in, and he had calmed down enough to realise she wanted an answer. How could he decide anything rationally at this so very crucial moment? "Just do it." He groaned.

The grip on his cock loosened and both hands were there with a ball each. He watched the rhythm increase, her head moving back and forth. Her lips distended her cheeks puffed out, the look of satisfaction upon her face. Her nose was snotty with laboured snatched breaths. Gasps of air were drawn round the head of his cock on every piston stroke. Eventually he could look no more his eyes involuntarily closed, screwed up tight, as he came. 

From the comfortable warm embrace of the sofa he opened one eye then the other. She was sitting between his splayed legs looking up at him. She opened her mouth to show him, at the same time pointing meaningfully at her throat. It floated into his consciousness she was asking if she could swallow. 

He looked at her imploring brown eyes seeming to be saying, 'Please, sir. May I have permission to swallow.' He looked at the mess of near white sperm in her mouth and marvelled. The boss had a mouthful of his gooey mess. His boss was at his feet begging for permission to swallow his sperm. Imperceptibly he nodded his approval. He watched fascinated as she made an exaggerated gulp looking as though she were swallowing an egg not a spoonful of semen.

"You did that like an expert." He told her. His voice was quiet, filled with admiration. "You're a real professional whore. You could certainly break record sales selling that product." He told her while circling her lips with a finger. 

The hypnotist had told him she would be back to normal in the morning after a good night of sleep and most importantly, not remembering a thing. Jim remembered the conspiratorial wink and the rank smell of whiskey on his breath. Now he was spent the fear of what would happen if he were found out was creeping upon him. He would send her to bed and check up on her in the morning with some excuse about the report. 

Quietly closing the door behind him he walked briskly toward the station keeping his head down not wanting to be noticed even though the streets were empty. Even on the station platform he was alone and at last began to relax.

***

Mary went to the bedroom as she had been told and undressed. She hadn't been told to sleep, just to go to her bedroom, that's what the customer had croaked, hardly able to speak. He was right she was a professional. She was a real good whore and there were men out there willing to pay her. It was still early enough to pull some tricks.

Opening the wardrobe she hunted for a dress knowing what she wanted. It was back there somewhere, a white sheer petticoat. She pulled it over her head and smoothed it down over her body it was a tight fit. Hunting through a draw she found a pair of white stockings and a matching garter belt. The pair of panties she threw back into a draw. It was a perfect slip under a summer dress only she left the house without a dress, the slip would be enough.

***

Driving to the office was a well-practised route, one she could negotiate while thinking of sales figures and planning the busy day ahead. Two blocks before the office building she turned left and parked on the street where there were plenty of spaces the wrong side of midnight. She walked toward the park knowing there were streetwalkers on that block from taking a short cut one evening after working late. 

Would they still be there? She couldn't see much in the poor lighting until a cigarette glow gave one away then others appeared as her eyes adjusted. Before she could compare herself with those other professionals a car pulled up. She was going to make a sale. 

"What would you like, Sir." Mary cooed through the turned down window. Her lips formed a wonderfully pubescent o shape highlighted by heavy red lipstick. 

"What do you do?" He asked.

"I'm an expert at a blow job. So I'm told." She cooed seductively.

"Get in we can drive somewhere." She was excited, for this would be the first sale of the evening and she felt sure her boss would be pleased. She knew she had always been very competitive with sales but for some reason couldn't think of any figures for this product range. She would just have to do her best. 

Leaning over his lap she pulled at his zipper and considering the cramped space under the steering wheel managed well. She made a note to herself to practise this technique for future sales. Before she could swallow it he pulled the car over and she sucked him in. She made another note to herself to bring tissues and wet wipes next time. He came spurting his stuff into the back of her throat where she involuntarily swallowed it. She licked her lips as though it had been a tasty meal. The man shoved a couple of notes into her hand and she thought about sewing a pocket on the inside of the dress. 

Dropped off in the street from where he had picked her up she just managed to thank him once more before he drove off. She was caught in the headlights of another car and once more she leaned in to ask what he wanted. When she slipped in to the passenger seat her slip of a dress had risen up displaying her nakedness and this time that is what the stranger wanted.

While they drove his fingers roughly delved into her and as he was the customer she gritted her teeth and shone him a smile telling him he had hit the spot. She wouldn't complain to a customer for she wanted to provide a perfect product. Whatever the customer wanted she would supply, for she was a professional.

After the fifth customer dropped her off she felt as though she must be reaching a target of some sort. A large brightly finished car pulled up all chrome and bouncy suspension. She made another note to herself to study cars and attempt to anticipate the clientele's preferences from the car model. 

The man looked the picture of a tough guy. "Your new here girl. What's your name?" Johnny Ray asked. Mary sat with him while he told her the rules. She wished she had brought her note pad with her but somehow considered it wouldn't appropriate. "Well girl lets see how good you are." He told her.

Mary held him back for some time eventually letting him orgasm. 

"Your good, girl. I give you that. You're a damn professional. I'm going to take you off these streets and set you up in a place up town. You will work for me now. OK?" He told her fiercely.




Boss Lady



"Yes, sir." She said. Although a little afraid she accepted knowing it was a promotion in this profession. 

"I'll meet you tomorrow night here. Understood? That's right, you be here, girl or your in trouble. Be here at six. I'll have a place set up for you by then. Remember you be here at six tomorrow." He ordered leaving no chance to refuse, even if she had a mind to, which she hadn't. 

He had ordered her and she would comply while she was still hypnotised. She had no option but to behave like a professional prostitute or at least what she thought one might behave like. Propelling her along was a competitive nature and she had learnt to sell so well, to drive herself into making and breaking sales targets. 

Driving home she felt high on success having made several sales, gaining new customers and secured a new position with better prospects. She would sleep well tonight.

***

Next morning Mary wondered why she felt so tired and tried to remember going to bed. How much had she drunk last night? She remembered telling Jim to get the train but not much else. Saturday progressed well for she was in a good mood. There was little to do and she had gained that all-important sale bringing the local office into first place. 

There was a smile upon her lips when she thought of promotion. Somehow it seemed as if she had already gained it. She frowned for a moment feeling she should remember something about receiving a promotion then shook her head, it must have been something in a dream, and continued reading the newspaper. She was pleased on finding a couple of interesting companies in the business section that should be approached. She would tell Jim on Monday to take a look at them. Mary was so pleased she went out shopping.

***

It was nearly six and if the traffic didn't get a move on she would be late. She was never late for a meeting. Parking up she moved as fast as possible in the new high heels and tight black skirt. It wasn't long enough to shorten her stride but was short enough to ride up showing off her bottom, if she weren't careful. Perhaps she should have worn panties considering how short the skirt was, then dismissed the idea for a professional wouldn't wear them. 

On time he turned up and she climbed in for him to approve of her body. She could see he had experience in appraising the female form and was pleased to be working for such a proficient young man. The house they entered was surprisingly plush and even more surprisingly it was ultra modern when she was expecting something more Victorian. He led her first to a small bedroom to throw open the two large built in wardrobes. They were packed with outfits. Some she couldn't guess at a name for. Some were Disney characters others were uniforms, all of them fantasy versions with no practical application at all except to entertain.

Johnny held up an outfit judging it would fit. "Your on for a performance in about an hour. I'll help you get ready and fill you in on the clients requirements."

Mary was excited for this was her first appointment selling her product in the big league. She really was a professional now. She wondered what part of herself she would be selling and would he appreciate it. She remembered a tutors words from university, 'When you do something give it your all, whatever it is your doing give it your best shot. To get on you've got to sell yourself. Give the client what he wants. The customer is always right.' Mary repeated the mantra, as she got ready for the client.

The black latex suit was skin tight covering her completely. Her hair was gathered out of a small hole in the top to form ponytail. Her breasts stuck out straight looking huge. There were two slits for her eyes and she had to breath through her mouth. A small flap ran between navel and backbone that opened up easily between her legs. It was the mouthpiece that worried her. It was supposed to fit over the teeth keeping her mouth open but slipped off them when she stretched. The outfit squeaked a little when she moved but there was a half hour to go, enough time to get used to it. 

Before the client arrived the suit had warmed up enough to stretch over her teeth and stay in place. She could now fix her wrists to the locks at her waist. Making a final examination she noticed in the mirror the lips of her pussy large and puffy through the thin material. It cut tight right between her legs, between her lips, threatening to pop the strip of material covering them clean off.

She didn't want to be standing there with her pussy lips squeezed out of the suit. It was supposed to be for him to decide when he pulled off the covering.



Boss Lady



I could feel the heat from four feet away in her small office at the entrance to the OR department. Each time, Marjorie Whitcomb took a deep breath, I watched her medium sized chest rise and her nipples protrude stiffly against the flimsy material of her scrub shirt. Pink was her color. It was the middle of summer and she wasn't wearing a half slip to keep warmer. How nice for me. 

Her strong back was to me. I fought the urge to reach out and grip her shoulders firmly and knead her desired flesh strongly, like a masseuse with all of the time in the world to please his very beautiful client. Another whiff of her perfume caught my nostrils. Male enhancement alert! Male enhancement alert! Now I had to shift in my chair so when she turned back around, she wouldn't see that I was surfboard stiff for her.

Actually, when I was first introduced to her over a year ago, it wasn't her body that snapped its claws around my heart. It was her crystal clear blue eyes. When she smiled, the skin crinkled in a delightful way and the sparkle of possibility radiated like a heat-seeking missile toward my soul.

Her fingers flew across the keyboard like she knew what she was doing. Marjorie, who preferred to be called Margie, was fine-tuning a report I had written concerning a policy that we had to bring current for the state inspectors who were expected any minute. It was crunch time and we were at the end of a long work day. The evening shift was in the OR proper still finishing up the day's schedule, and whatever add-on cases that the surgeons had deemed emergent to be done outside of the regular work day.

Her blonde head went slowly left to right. More scent, more male enhancement. 

"Barry, what were you thinking when you wrote this?" she said, with a laugh as light as real angel hair and just as delightful. "Look at this." Her left hand, adorned with a wedding ring the size of a small NATO country, waved me closer.

I had to stop myself from lunging forward. My hands steadied myself on the back of her office chair inches from her warm skin. Images of sliding my hands from the chair to her back, deliberately, just to see what she would do teased the pleasure centers of my mind. A slap met my cheek with malice aforethought. Her voice sounded in the seashells I used as ears.

"Barry? Barry?" she said, snapping me back from wonderland to the present. "Are you all right?"

My throat was hoarse, and drier than a litter box at the Amur tiger exhibit at the local zoo. I cleared my throat. "Yes, just drifted off for a second." My enhanced member pressed against the back of her chair. It wanted to fight its way through the upholstered padded metal to her soft backside that jiggled slightly when she walked down the hall.

"Do you see where I corrected your thinking here?" asked Marjorie, half turning back towards me and her shoulder rubbed against my forearm and lingered.

Concentrate my boy, concentrate. "I do. But you left something out," I replied. And without thinking I leaned forward to point at the large computer screen, brushing my forearm along her shoulder near her neck. She didn't move and almost leaned into my arm as if caressing it with her cheek.

My arm went numb as the throbbing between my legs took on a salsa beat. I found myself grinding it against the back of her chair. The faint reflection of her face in the screen told me she was tired. A yawn lazily appeared and faded fast.

"Boss, we can do this tomorrow," I said, gently sliding my arm back along her shoulder and against her cheek.

"Unfortunately, we can't. St. Mary's said the inspectors will be there tomorrow. That leaves only two hospitals left, kiddo," said the director of peri-operative services. "And with our luck, we'd be next."

"Agreed. It's just that you look so tired," I said. My eyes were fixed on her breasts rising and falling with each lovely breath. I spied her pink lace bra, clasp in the front, a C cup or C plus. Was that her nipple I saw?

My hands on her chair moved forward so they pressed against her back. Either Marjorie hadn't noticed or didn't care. Probably the former, hopefully the latter. Now she was rubbing her eyes. A knock on the door caused me to snap to attention. A tall, lanky brunette with a Dorothy Hamill wedge popped her head in.

"Margie, I'm headed for dinner. Dietrich is in charge. Only two rooms running, a gall bladder and a tib-fib fracture," she reported. 

"Thanks Holly. No need to check in again. We're going to be up to our project folders in here."

Holly nodded and stole a glance at the bulge beneath my belt. Her smile widened. "Okay, enjoy," she said, adding a wink for me. Heat flushed my face. I sat back down abruptly.

My boss sipped her ever-present tea then nibbled like a bunny on a granola bar.

"Yuck," I sad.

"Oh, pshaw, Barry. You don't know anything about eating healthy," she said.

Eating you would certainly be a treat, I thought. She had returned to the screen. I rubbed my wrist against my hard-on. I wanted to do more. I needed to do more. I wanted her to do it.

Excusing myself, I barely made it into the men's room stall with a tube of water-soluble surgical lubricant. A thick stream went from the crown down along the thickening shaft. I dropped the tube to the tile floor, grabbed my rod and closed my eyes. Marjorie Whitcomb and I were in the woods somewhere on a blanket by a gurgling stream. Her soft, glowing body was swathed in a pastel-pink bikini. I was adorned in the requisite gym shorts. The sun cascaded down between the high tree leaves and onto our little oasis.

"It's gotten hotter," she said.

I took her hand and she got to her feet and followed along obediently. We splashed our bare feet into the middle of the stream. She shivered. Her nipples tried to break free of the thin Lycra cup of her bikini top. On a lower shelf in the stream, an eddy formed. I sat her down in the middle of the swirling water. It was deep enough to rise just above her breasts. I sat on a flat rock immediately behind her, placing a leg on either side of her. 

Her hair was longer, in a pony tail exposing the string tie at her neck. "Just relax, Marjorie. Close your eyes and let the running water wash over your mind, floating your worries and cares away. I'll do the rest," I said, near her ear.

My hand untied the string. She gasped and grabbed the top before it could fall completely off. Both of my hands covered hers, wedding ring and all.

"Barry, you do know I'm married," she said back over her shoulder.

"Yes," I removed my hands, got to my feet and walked back over to the blanket. My back was to my boss yet she could probably sense my disappointment.

"Where are you going?" she called to me.

"I told you at the beginning, Mrs. Whitcomb, that if you changed your mind, I would stop. You did. I did," I said, in flat line tones.

"Barry," she said. When no more was forthcoming, I turned to look at her. Her small hands left her breasts taking the bikini top as well. It was my turn to gasp. Perfect nipples, rounds mounds of flesh waiting to be caressed.

I started toward her when my name sounded in my ears.

"Barry, please return to Margie's office," was the announcement.

"Yeouch," I said, with both hands full of my desire for her. No time to finish now. I wiped the lube off as best I could and headed back to her office as the dead run.

Marjorie Whitcomb was slouched back in her chair, begging to be kissed. At least that was my thought.

"I'm exhausted. Need a break. Dinner?" she asked.

My watch gave bad news. "Cafeteria's closed."

"Get your coat. I know a place," she said, pulling on her lab coat, her name and RN, MS, CNOR stitched in red above her left breast pocket. 

She drove and we ende3d up at Smokey Val's, a rib joint that Margie said was her little secret. We ordered, talked shop, and small chit chat.

"So how does the health care bill affect us?" I asked, keeping the chat as neutral as possible. I surely didn't want her to know this felt like a date to me.

"No clue. Look, I'm sorry to keep you up so late. It must screw up your social life," she said.

"It would if I had one," I replied.

"I thought you were dating that divinity student, um, I forgot her name."

"Emily. She left a couple of months ago. We had different views on," I paused.

"On what?" she asked, wiping her soft lips when I could have done it just as good with my tongue.

I could never lie to her. She engendered immediate trust. "On types of intimacy." Her eyebrows arched looking for more. I continued. "How to put this? She and Oedipus didn't see eye to eye."

Margie hesitated in mid-chew and looked up at me. "Oh, I didn't mean to pry."

"Not your fault. Just understand that if you ask me a question, you'll get an honest, unvarnished answer," I said, quickly filling my face with French fires so as not to cross a line.

"I see. Are you dating?"

"No."

"Any prospects?" she inquired.

Besides you? I thought. "No. Breaking up is too painful to do."

"What do you do for companionship?" asked my boss.

"Have business dinners with my boss," I said, adding a smile. My boss smiled back, but it seemed more serious.

"I didn't mean to pry," she said, signaling for the check.

"Margie, I have no secrets from you," I said then snatched the check. "My treat."

She smiled. "My expense account thanks you, kind sir."





Boss Lady



It wasn't the first time I'd stood up to a woman and been knocked onto my ass. All I could think of at the time was that here was a pushy bitch riding roughshod on my plans; plans with much time and effort invested in them. She had come sashaying into my office while I was planning the day's schedule with my assistant, Bernice.

"Tim, I won't beat around the bush." she said. "I've had doubts about your strategy with the Demerest account all along. I've just talked to Grant, and he agrees that we should rethink it all. I wanted to tell you myself."

I stared aghast at her as she stood there surveying the room; looking at it as though she were redecorating it in her mind.

"Bernice, will you excuse us, please." I said icily. 

'The fucking nerve of her!', I thought, waiting for the door to close.

"You went over my head." I began, my fists clenched on the top of my desk. "I thought we were working as a team - all of us. I thought this was a team effort!"

Jenna sighed and cocked her head to one side. 

"I don't know, Tim. I mean, we have talked, haven't we? You know how I feel about it. Bob Demerest wants a better return, and your so-called diversification strategy is getting him a case of financial anemia."

"Rubbish! He's getting a solid nine percent over time. He's happy. And, frankly, I'm not concerned about whether you are."

"Now, now, Tim. Reality can be unpleasant, but you need to face it. I'm running the account now. And though you may not care about my happiness, just so you know, I'm really quite pleased at this turn of events."

Jenna walked past me to the window, her hips moving carelessly under her tight skirt. 

I hated her guts, but I also loved watching her move. Leaning against the window frame, she surveyed the street below.

I swiveled my chair to face her.

"You fucking whore." I seethed, my voice trembling with rage and impotence.

"Oh, I'm a whore. Is that it? I have some innovative ideas, ideas that Clark likes, I should add, and suddenly I'm a whore? Get real. This game is called hardball, my dear."

Her nonchalance angered me further. She still had her back to me as her eyes moved over the scenery. I took in her tall frame, her no-nonsense short haircut. I tried not to feel the hunger I normally felt when I was checking her out, but there it was. God, she was hot. She was of a slight, elegant build from her small waist up. On the downside, that waist gave way to gorgeously rounded hips and ass. Watching it all shift and move when she walked was one of the great pleasures of any work day. But for now, it infuriated me that I could not put my lust aside. Here I was being screwed by this ballcutter, and inside I was drooling. 

"Looks like storm clouds on the way." she noted casually. "So, look," she said, turning towards me and leaning against the sill, "I'll forget your impudence this time. If it happens again, I'm going to have a sit-down with the big guy. I don't think he'd approve. You need to learn to take some knocks without taking it personally. I mean, you'll last longer. What do you say?"

I wanted to stand up to confront her, but I was beginning to have an erection. 

"I'm going to have a talk with Grant myself. I'm not going to be walked on." I said emphatically.

"I'm sure he wants to talk to you as well." Jenna replied, smiling mischievously.

"What have you been saying about me?" I demanded, and got up from my chair.

"Oh, Clark likes to bounce things off of me. we talk about this and that."

I'd like to bounce an ashtray off your skull, you cunt! I fumed inwardly. But even as these words formed in my mind, I could not help wondering just what her cunt smelled like. There was always a deliciously warm, female fragrance exuding from Jenna, and I often fantasized about discovering its hidden sources - her soft curves, dark orifices.

"Well, we talked about you this morning. Anyway, he'll tell you more about the Demerest changes. You could go up to his office now. I'm pretty sure he's free." she said, looking me straight in the eye.

She looked at her watch. "I should really get going. By the way, that's a nice suit. Fits kind of funny in the front, though." she said, suppressing a smile.

She strode to the door and damned if my eyes didn't follow her as she left. Then I looked down and saw that the contour of my semi-erect penis was showing. I returned to my desk and, with my head in my hands, broke down. Thank God she had left before then. A twisted mix of emotions - indignity, rage, and long-repressed sexual longing welled up and battled for dominance. But, through sheer will, I collected myself, and my thoughts turned to reprisal. 

I walked down the carpeted hallway and stopped at Vivian's desk. 

"Grant's expecting me." I said. My hands were clammy and my jaw was clenching with anxiety.

"Go right in, Mr Byron." she said, and I pushed open the heavy oak door.

"Tim! Have a seat. Did Jenna tell you about the tweeks to the Demerest account? We want to run them past you first, of course. Have a drink? It's four o'clock. I'm having one." and, with that, Simon poured scotch from a decanter.

"Sure. I'll have one with you." I said. I needed it, really, to calm myself. I sank into one of the leather armchairs that faced the desk.

"Ice?"

"Just a couple of pieces."

Grant came forward with the drinks and sat in the chair beside me.

"Bob Demerest has been hinting at a fatter bottom line ."Grant said as he settled in, swirling his drink.

"You've done good work with him, Timothy. No question. Solid work. But now he's looking for capital. He's investing in condos in Florida. In Naples. It's a good move, and I told him so. He wants to crank up his returns here, though. I don't have to remind you that Ed Ralston is vying for his business, and I'm not about to just give it up."

I heard the door open, and I stiffened. Clark rose from his seat.

"Jen. Come on in. Just talking to Tim about the account. You don't like scotch, as I recall. Bourbon?"

Jenna nestled into the remaining chair and crossed her legs.

""A mineral water would be nice. A good vodka would be nice, too, but you don't stock it." she said. Grant brought a pelligrino from the small fridge.

"that can be fixed. what's your pleasure?"

"Grey Goose ."

"Consider it done. Come by tomorrow, and we'll drink to it. Now," Grant continued, leaning on the edge of his desk and looking from one to the other of us. "Let's talk Demerest. Jen, tell Tim what you have in mind."

I looked over to the whore and tried my best to convey my loathing for her. She held my gaze for a second, recrossed her legs, and began.

"Putting him more heavily into healthcare - say, moving three mil into Genentech...it's going places. I've done the research. He should have the money he's looking for in the first quarter of next year. That, by the way, is when he wants it." 

"It's good analysis, Timothy. I had Randy go over it. What do you think.?" Grant said, turning to me.

"Sounds to me like it's already done. If that's what you want..."

"I'd like it if we were all on the same page here, Tim. You're sounding a bit defensive." Grant said. He seemed irritated, and I took his words, especially in the presence of Princess Bitch, as a slap in the face. He was dressing me down, and I knew she was loving every bit of it.

"I can send over the data, Tim." Jenna said, sounding very sure of herself.

"Sure. Sure." I said, not sure of what I was saying. I looked at her, but my gaze dropped. What the hell. I was whipped, and I was whipped by her. I felt emotion rise up in me, and thought I might be dangerously close to losing it as I had in my office earlier. Clark seemed to notice.

"You all right, Tim?"

"It's nothing." I said. "Indigestion, I think."

I bit my tongue in an effort to steel myself. Jenna was looking at me as she sipped her water.

'That's right, twat. You won', I thought, pursing my lips tightly so they wouldn't tremble. She continued looking at me while Clark was on the phone with Randy, our chief analyst. Her steady gaze discomforted me, and I could feel my insides squirming. 

Grant hung up the phone.

"Well, I guess that's it. Tim, why don't you review Jenna's data, and we can meet again tomorrow. I'm looking forward to your weighing in on this."

We both got up to go, and I was at the door.

"Jenna, stick around for a minute, will you?" Grant said.

Jenna caught my eye as I opened the door. She answered Grant, but she was looking - and smiling - straight at me.

"Sure, Grant." she said, and turned her back to me.

I fumed my way back to my office. Jesus, I felt like the floor had disappeared from under me. Suddenly, my status in the company seemed uncertain, at the very least. Oh, I'd keep my position, but I could see clearly that I was no longer Grant's go-to guy for the larger accounts.

'All because of that filthy bitch!' I muttered to myself as I made my way down the hall.

The next morning there was a note from Grant in my inbox.

Morning, Tim.

Jenna had the idea of all of us meeting at her apartment after work. She's ordering some catered hors' d'ouervres. We'll get a few bottles of red, and mull things over. Her place at seven.

Regards,

Grant

Sure, why not? As if I were important to this so-called meeting. Hey, Grant. Why don't I just stay outside and wax all of your cars while you have your talk. Fuck! Well, I couldn't not go. But the idea of accepting her hospitality really galled me. What could I do, though? 

Later, I thought of something. I'd bring the wine. I'd offer to do it. Then, I would bring bottles of the finest premier cru bourdeaux I could get my hands on. I would steal the show!

I left work at five, and went directly to to Marcel's, a purveyor of fine wines. I came away with six bottles of Chateau Margaux, '95. They wrapped them in colored tissue paper, and boxed them up very nicely.

When I arrived at Jenna's place, I placed the box on the coffee table in the great room. Everyone else had already got there. Jenna removed a bottle and examined it appreciatively. 

Hey. Good stuff, Tim. The '93 was a super vintage. Not sure how this one compares, though.Can't wait to find out! Where'd you get it?"

"At Marcel's."

"Oh? He has the '93. I'll give him a talking-to next time I'm in there."

So, I had fucked up again, was that it? And been taken for a sap by a crafty wine merchant to boot. It seemed this woman took real pleasure in defeating me. I felt like a clumsy, punch-drunk fool in the ring with a master boxer. Every time I turned around, I caught a stinging jab right in the face.

The meeting was done within two hours. Who can say if anything got done. Grant pulled a soliloquey out of somewhere, going on about a new, higher level of energy he was hoping we'd all adopt (a la Queen Jenna, no doubt).

I had my share of the wine. It tasted fine to me. But then, I'm just some bumbling oaf. What do I know? Well, by the end of the soiree, I knew that Jenna was spearheading the Demerest file. Our most prestigious. What a joyous occasion. There were even a few seconds of congratulatory applause. I don't know why I didn't just say: Excuse me, I'm going into the next room to hang myself.

People started clearing out. I was finishing a brandy that Jenna had been pouring around. I vowed to stay behind and offer some conciliatory words to the cunt. It wouldn't be easy, but I had to think about keeping some respectable position in the pecking order, even if it involved riding on missy's coattails.

I started picking up glasses from around the room.

"Thanks, Tim." Jenna said as she returned from seeing the others off. "Put them by the sink, will you?"

"Okay," I said. "Thought you might like some help."

"So it would seem". she said in a quizzical tone.

"I have to tell you, Jenna, you're doing really good work. I just didn't appreciate your efforts till now."

There. I'd said it. I'd let her wipe her feet on me like a cowed, spineless piece of shit! 'Why don't you wipe your ass on my face, while you're at it!' I sputtered inwardly.

"Well, if that isn't a one-eighty! You weren't feeling like this yesterday. Makes me wonder if your being sincere." she said, casting a critical eye at me. So she wasn't going to graciously accept my praise. Maybe I should grovel at her feet.

"I'm just trying to pay you a compliment, Jenna." I said, sounding innocent. 

"It just seemed a bit odd, is all. It's nice to hear praise, but unexpected when it's coming from someone who clearly loathes you."

"Oh, well,maybe I can stick around a bit longer so you can humiliate me some more, you, you..."

"Ah! Here's the real Tim." she said, putting down the plates she'd collected and facing me. "Maybe I will let you do just that, little man. You really are cut out for it, aren't you?" she said, and she laughed. 

"I just want to make peace, is all." I said, hanging my head.

"And what word was on the tip of your tongue just then? Huh?! 'You, you', what?! Bitch? Cunt? Speak up, Timmy!"

I looked into her eyes as tears began to form in mine. Fool! Control yourself! But she saw. She saw my weakness.

"I don't know what else to say, except that you are obviously a coward". Jenna taunted, standing there, hands on hips. "A sniveling one at that. Jeez. You are one sad sack of shit, you know that?" 

"Cunt." I muttered.

"What's that, Tim? I didn't quite get that."

"You stinking, lousy cunt!" I growled, and felt my face turning red from the slew of emotions that churned in me.

Jenna walked swiftly up to me and slapped me hard across my face. The sound of it astounded me. My face stung and my ear rang from the blow. 

"Not allowed, Tim!" she said forcefully. "Think what you want, but you show me respect, you understand?"

I stood there, dirty glasses in my hands and I wept. 

"Keep busy, Timmy boy. Get those dishes into the dishwasher, then do the carpet. The vacuum is in the closet by the front door." With that, she left the room. I carried the glasses into the kitchen, my vision obscure by the tears that now flowed freely. I sobbed openly, feeling as though a floodgate had creaked open in me. I methodically went about my task. Slapped silly by a willful, pushy bitch. Isn't that lovely. 

I slowly got command of my feelings. I was vacuuming the carpet when the machine just stopped. I turned and saw Jenna tossing aside the cord she'd unplugged. She was wearing the top she had on all evening, and panties.

"Come here." she said as she eased herself onto the sofa. I began winding up the cord, my hands trembling.

"Leave it. Just get over here." Jenna said, snapping her fingers. "Waiter, how about some service, here? You do look like a waiter, doing all this lovely cleanup, Timmy. You don't mind if I call you Timmy, do you?"

This was simply unreal. All Jenna's beautiful female flesh that I had long worshipped in my dreams sat relaxed and naked before me. I knew that she was on a beach volleyball team and, so, was not surprised to see the milky-white of her lower belly give way to the golden hue of her legs and torso. Jenna's long legs were crossed at the knees, but when I approached, she uncrossed them, and allowed them to fall to the side. I couldn't keep my eyes off of her thighs. They were gorgeous.

"Kneel down. You're making me crane my neck." Jenna snipped. I lowered onto my knees, and the warmth and fragrance of her body wafted towards me. I inhaled it eagerly and raised my eyes to meet hers. It was then I realized that I was afraid of Jenna - afraid of how she could easily reveal me for what I am; not the phony persona I present to the world. Truly, if aliens studied our culture, they'd wonder why women like Jenna didn't have balls, and why weaklings like myself did. 

"Look at me." Jenna said in a surprisingly soft voice. 

"I didn't realize you were such a crybaby, Tim. What seems to be the problem?" she said, resting her hands on the tops of her thighs.

"I don't know. It just came over me." I said as I struggled to meet her gaze. 

"Are you afraid of me?"

"A little, I suppose." I said, feeling ashamed of fearing my tormentor. No balls, Timmy. You might as well own up to it.

"Afraid how? What is it about me that makes you afraid?"

"I don't know." I said. 

She leaned forward. "I want actual answers to my questions, Tim. Is that Understood?"

"I'm sorry." I said as a surge of desire took hold of me. How long could I remain this close to her gorgeous body without cracking up?

"Tim, is it sexual? Because maybe you're afraid of how much you want to serve me. I mean, lets face it, that is your style, I'm wagering. Servitude. I'd say you are a timid and submissive man. Agreed?"

I nodded my assent.

"Yes, and that's just as well, because I don't think any woman knowing your ugly thoughts regarding womanhood will let you anywhere near her bed." she said in a cold and level voice. "But you might be handy to have around the house."

Jenna was savoring her power, her victory over me. And I just stayed there on my knees taking it. 

I shifted my weight from one knee to the other. "I'd like to try." I said in barely a whisper.

"Pardon me? I didn't hear you, Timmy."

"I think I could be a good helper." I said, and looked up to see her smiling.

"Fantastic, Tim! You know, I really enjoy my dominance over you in the office, but this... this will be something special. I imagined it, you know. Having a sexually perverted, spineless, male ass - that would be you - entirely under my thumb in private. "You!" Jenna laughed, and there was an excited glow on her face.

"Why we'll have to reshape you, I believe, Mr Tim-Tim!" she said gleefully.

"Yes, please!" I blurted out, and my voice quavered. "Just tell me what to do...Ma'am, and I will do it." 

I had never felt so degraded and yet so ecstatically liberated until that moment. I had declared a deep and secret wish. A shameful one, really, since I could no longer see myself as a whole man; a self-respecting man. But one, however, whose destiny was suddenly set ablaze. 

"Well put, Tim! And in just a few simple words. The very words I want to hear from a man. Here, kneel on this." she said, tossing a pillow at me.

"Before you get too comfy, run to the kitchen and make me a screwdriver. Let's go! Pronto!"

The words sent a thrill through me. Orders. Orders for me from a strong, no-nonsense woman. I would do my very best to impress her! Don't blow it, Tim! 

I stepped briskly to the kitchen and scanned the room for a bottle of vodka. I didn't see one, so I rounded up the ice and juice. Now I was beginning to get anxious. Where the fuck was this vodka? I wasn't about to go before her and say I didn't have her drink! 

I opened and closed cabinets - there must have been twenty of them! - as quietly as I could.

"Tim! Tim, come out here." Jenna called. 

I dashed from the kitchen, nervously twisting a dishtowel in my hands.

"Stand in front of me." she directed, and I obeyed.

"Umm. What are you doing out there? Where's my drink?"

"Im sorry, Ma'am. Sorry. I searched everywhere for the vodka, but I haven't found it yet. I'm sorry, Ma'am." I said, the words tripping over each other.

"So, let's see if I've got this right. You decided that I could wait for my drink while you run all over the kitchen?"

Jenna rose from the sofa and walked up to me.

"Is that it, Tim?"

I know that my mouth was opening when the flat of her hand came like lightning across my face. Then the other hand.

"Give me that thing, stupid". Jenna said, yanking the dishtowel from my hands.

"Look at me, Tim. Do I look like I'm fooling?" Jenna said, right in my face.

"Next time you don't know something, and you need that something to please me, you come to me and you politely ask. I don't have time for you to take care of your ego. Is this sinking in, Timothy?" she said, stepping back, and looking stern, indeed.




Boss Lady



"Absolutely, Ma'am! It makes sense. I'm sorry I didn't think. I'm afraid all this has excited me, and I guess I could be trying too hard."

"Look Tim. I think I know what you need, and you could be getting your worthless heart's desire here. I mean, there's potential. But you need to show me you can control your emotions. They have no place here. Not to where you aren't serving me properly. Now, have you got that?"

"I do! I do have it. Thank you. Thank you!" I said, feeling the sincere wish to please this woman run through every cell in my body.

"Do you know why I slapped you, Tim? And why I will continue to do so? What do you think?"

"To help me?" I proffered quietly.

"Yes. To help you and to get you going in the right direction. You're going to be trained, Tim. And that will include a face-slapping as needed. Today, for instance, your mistake was a serious one. Normally, it would be a job for my belt."

"Oh." I said as the delicious vision of Jenna giving me a good lacing with her belt presented itself. Yes! Treat me like a scurvy, beaten-down mutt. I do so like to be reminded of who the boss is!

"I certainly appreciate this wonderful opportunity, Ma'am. "I said, feeling very small and humble.

Okay, then. Lesson learned?"

"Yes, Ma'am! Thank you, Ma'am." I said, beaming happily.

"Now, the vodka, dumb-ass, is in that cabinet there." Jenna said, pointing to the corner of the room. "Get that drink. You've got a second chance, boy!"

I moved a small table close to the sofa and the finished drink was brought to Jenna's side.

"That's nice, Tim! It looks yummy. Resume your kneeling position." Jenna said as she examined her drink.

"Taller glass next time." she said, taking a sip.

"Tastes okay." 

"I'm glad it pleases you, Ma'am." I said, then continued."May I speak freely, Ma'am?"

"Sure. I don't know if you'll like the results of that but, sure, go ahead."

I realized, as I knelt there facing Jenna, that the air in the room had become redolent of her body. The same, subtle, intoxicating fragrance that I was blessed to detect now and then at the office now worked a remarkable spell on my psyche and on my loins.

"I know you don't like me..."

"That's right, Tim. I don't. But I do like what you're good for. Isn't that a bit of irony?"

"Yes! And, finally I'm good for something!" I enthused.

"Exactly, Tim. Outside of giving me all your attention and your deep respect (and yes, I do feel that), you're nothing but garbage rotting in the sun. A total loser. What do you think?"

I opened my mouth to answer and felt myself happily jettisoning the awful weight of pretense. Forget your bullshit delusions! I told myself. 

"I agree . Yes!" I began. "You're right. I'm a pig-headed loser. Boy! I've been waiting a long time to tell that to someone! Someone like you, Ma'am. Someone who sees what I really am." 

"We're of one mind, aren't we, Timmy?"

"Yes, Ma'am. Timmy is here to serve only you!" I said, feeling a bit silly calling myself by my childhood name. My cock, meanwhile, was raging in my pants. I could feel precum leaking slowly into my briefs.

Jenna rose from the sofa with a sardonic grin and walked the two steps to where I knelt. She came close, and I was soon face-to-face with her pussy mound, presenting its contours through the blue cotton of her panties.

"That is so sweet, Tim!" she said, inching still closer. "And to think that you were calling me "cunt" not so very long ago. What a transformation. Do you still have those angry feelings?"

"Sometimes."

"And?"

"Well, Ma'am, there are times when good-looking women get to places they don't deserve. Just wave their pussy in the boss's face, and expect something in return. I'm just telling you how I feel as you asked me to, Ma'am."

"No. That's perfect, Tim. I need to know the depths of your hatred before I can change it into something useful for the women of the world. I see that you will need rigorous training. Are you willing to take that on?"

"Jenna. Ms Jenna... I belong here with you. You know what a loser I am - how I harbor hatred towards women simply because I've been outdone by them. I need help." 

Jenna raised her right leg and draped it over my shoulder. As she shifted herself into a comfortable position, I could feel the warm flesh of her thigh against my cheek. Now, of course, the odor from her loins wafted freely into my nostrils. 

"Well, Tim. That's good. Really. Because I can help you." She looked down at my face. Are you comfortable?"

Of course, I was in quite a state, being in such close proximity to her, and she saw this.

"Yes, Ms Jenna."

"Excellent. Now," she continued, lowering her leg to the floor. "I'll explain how things will work. I'm the boss-lady. Here, at the office, at K-Mart, in church, in the bathroom. Is that clear?"

"Yes., Ma'am." I said, and watched as Ms Jenna paced nonchalantly before me. When her back was to me, I saw the beautiful, full globes of her ass. Would I ever get to kiss them? To show them who I was?

"Step-by-step "I'm going to turn you into a respectful little dog."

"Yes, Ms Jenna, Ma'am. I'd like that." I said, imagining my lips on her soft buttocks. Such beauty! Mmmmm. Boss lady, indeed! 

"I thought you would. You see, you're not making the cut in the man department, so part of my job is to find the appropriate species to apply to your level of evolution. Men like yourself often fall into the dog range.

"I'll try to be a good dog, Ma'am." I said, loving the sounds of the words, and feeling excitement grow as I considered how it would play out. Oh! I would be the best little doggie for Ms Jenna!!

Well, Tim, I'm afraid we are going to begin our time together by reviewing some of the foul things, the foul names you called me. Do you remember?"

"I'm so sorry I..."

"Answer the question, stupid!"

"I...I...I... Ms Jenna..."

"Stop your asinine babbling. Now!"

The words cut sharply, and I immediately quieted myself.

"Tell me, you weak, stuttering piece of shit!"

"I said 'cunt' Ma'am! I'm sorry, I..."

The blows came fast and furious. They cracked like rifle reports. In a moment, she stopped.

"After awhile, Tim, you'll learn what behavior is punished. There's no big hurry. I'll keep you on track. "Now, go down that hall to my bedroom. In the closet, on a peg on the back of the door, you'll find a leather belt . Go there now. Get the belt, then strip naked, and wait for me."

"Go!" she barked.

My face burned as I scurried down the hall. I was about to get a tanning from the office bitch who made my life miserable! Wow! Who's going to tell me I'm not a loser? And I was loving it all so much! Yes, Ma'am! I need a good whipping, Ma'am! 

More to follow.



Boss Lady



I approached the front door of their home, still apprehensive about coming here to meet her husband. I'd casually mentioned that my wife and I were having marital problems and I wasn't quite sure what to do about the situation. I love my wife but lately our sex life has been practically non-existent. She had made hints that she wanted something more but whatever I suggested, like sex in different rooms, places or different positions just wasn't doing it. She found ways to avoid the subject and often any physical contact. We tried counseling but both of us found it ineffective and unhelpful. The problem was becoming serious, almost to the point of considering a separation. 

My female boss, who is about ten or fifteen years older than me, somehow sensed my discontentment so one afternoon, I found myself sitting in her office spilling my guts about my lackluster love life. Pretty pathetic, I know, but I did it.

Mrs. Hunt is the head of personnel and has a reputation for being a real ball buster. She wields a lot of power in the company so most of the men in our department tread lightly around her because they're scared of losing their jobs. She always seemed to like me, so I was never intimidated by her but I certainly never wanted to get on her bad side either. I'm convinced she could be lethal if she needed to be. 

After our awkward heart to heart, she suggested that I come over to her house and meet her husband and perhaps between the two of them, they might come up with solution to take the boredom out of the bedroom and save our marriage. I reluctantly agreed, especially after she got on the speaker phone right away with her husband and the three of us chatted candidly from Mrs. Hunt's private office. He assured me that it would be worth my while to come over because he and Mrs. Hunt (he referred to her as Maggie) had solved their similar marital woes through some unique therapy that I might find helpful. I found myself with an offer that I could hardly refuse. After all, she was my boss and she could be very persistent.

I hurried through dinner and told my wife I had a business meeting, which was partly the truth. She told me her girlfriends were coming over and they were planning a baby shower for a mutual friend. It made my meeting a little less stressful just so I could get away from her annoying chatty friends.

So, here I stand looking at the doorbell, trying to get enough courage to ring it. Almost in a trance I find my finger pressing on the button. It's a soft bell tone. I listen but I don't hear any movement from behind the door. Perhaps they had second thoughts, I hoped. Maybe there was a family emergency, I prayed. They were just playing a game with me, I'd go for that... then the door opened. My heart was pounding in my ears as Mr. Hunt stood in front of me. He was dressed in a somewhat rumpled white dress shirt with the sleeves pushed up and dark suit pants. I assumed he had just arrived home from work recently.

I realized that I had met him before. He had accompanied Mrs. Hunt, to a company Christmas dinner last year. I held out my hand to shake his. "Mr. Hunt, I'm Ryan Carson. Um... we spoke on the phone this afternoon."

He chuckled. "Of course! I may be getting old but I can still remember what I had for lunch today. Come on in."

I was already fucking up. "Oh no, Mr. Hunt, I didn't mean to imply that... I only meant..."

He shook my hand vigorously and grinned. "I'm just giving you a hard time. Maggie has spoken very highly of you." He clapped a large hand on my shoulder. "Please, call me Jim. Maggie and I have been looking forward to this."

We walked into the entryway. Their home was very nice. Sort of Ernest Hemingway style with dark woods, rich leathers and interesting home décor, like they had done a lot of traveling to exotic locations. The lighting was low and classical music was playing softly over the speaker system.

He ushered me into their living room and I stopped dead in my tracks. Before I could utter a word Jim was already explaining. "You see Ryan, as you probably already know, Maggie is a very strong willed woman with a high powered job that requires her to make some tough decisions. All that power can be quite stressful and overwhelming. Sometimes she needs to let someone else make all her decisions and allow her to be who she craves to be, behind closed doors."

I was speechless. Mrs. Hunt aka/Maggie was standing completely naked with her back to me facing the living room wall. She wore high heels, leather ankle cuffs and a huge butt plug stuffed in her amazing looking ass. This was the same woman who ran a multi-million dollar company making men tremble in their wingtips, standing there like a helpless sex doll in front of my very eyes.

Jim was still speaking but I was having a difficult time concentrating on what he had to say. "I hope you'll forgive Maggie for not acknowledging your presence but she is being punished at the moment and she's not allowed to speak until I tell her to." I think my jaw was still slack on my chest. "In the meantime, can I get you a beer?" I nodded like an idiot.

He offered me a seat on the couch so I could see her from the side. Maggie had a spectacular body. She had a nice full bottom, round and supple. It was obvious that she had been recently spanked. I could see bright pink handprints on her fair skin all across the span of that big gorgeous ass. The butt plug she was sporting was huge. It had to hurt to have that monster stuffed up her asshole. Her tits were much larger than I had imagined them to be and yes, I had more than once pictured her naked. She had lovely long legs which I'd always admired and the heels she was wearing were much higher than what she wore in the office. She was nearly teetering over because of the height of her heels. They had to be at least six inches high. I could see from this angle that she had on nipple clamps with fishing lure weights dangling from them and her leather wrist cuffs were attached to a leather training collar around her neck. Her hands were clasped together in a praying fashion, closely under her chin. A metal chain leash hung down between those gorgeous tits and dangled almost to her knees. She looked straight ahead, never once did her eyes waver towards where I was sitting and her normally shoulder length brown hair was pulled up into a tight, sleek ponytail high on top of her head.

My dick was getting hard sitting there staring at her until I heard Jim's voice. He placed the ice cold beer in my sweaty palm. "Here you go son." I wished he hadn't called me that but he probably was almost old enough to be my dad. He was at least ten years older than my boss. I guessed Mrs. Hunt to be in her late thirties or early forties so he had to be close to fifty, old enough to be my dad.

My voice squeaked as I thanked him. I tipped the beer back and swallowed a huge gulp, trying to get the lump out of my throat. Jim could sense my uneasiness as he sat in a leather chair situated between Maggie and me. I could barely take my eyes off her but I was able to pay attention to what Jim was saying.

It's very difficult to listen to your boss's husband while watching your boss being treated like a sex toy, but somehow I managed. Mrs. Hunt always said I was a good multi-tasker and by god I was doing it right now.

"Maggie and I have practiced this kind of sexual dominance for quite some time now. She spends most of her days ordering people around, being responsible for a lot of things, so to balance it out, the majority of time while she's bossing you boys around, she has a butt plug stuffed up her ass and bears the marks of my belt on her sore bare bottom to remind her that when she comes home, she's my whore. He leaned over and slapped my knee, hard, real hard. "Maggie and I trust that this little secret never gets out. We can count on you for that can't we Ryan?"

I stammered and turned to look at Maggie still standing perfectly still against that wall. "Um... yes sir. Our secret. I promise, I would never say a word."

"That's good to hear." He smiled and leaned back to stare at Maggie too. "No need to call me sir, she's the only one that is required to do that. Aren't you Maggie? You can answer me now."

She finally spoke for the first time since I arrived. Her voice was soft and subtle. "Yes sir." Was all she said. I was completely mesmerized by her submissiveness towards him. It was something I never would have dreamed she could be. 

His voice lowered a notch and he boomed. "Get your ass over here Maggie, pronto." She scurried over to him in her sky high heels with her hands helplessly attached to her slave collar. Jim spread his legs apart, pulled on her leash and pointed to his crotch. "Get down on your knees."

Maggie immediately dropped to her knees and looked up at Jim with big soulful eyes. She had done her makeup completely different than what I was used to seeing. Her eyes were catlike and her lipstick was dark red. The sleek ponytail gave her a very exotic look. She looked like a Persian concubine from a harem. Jim grabbed her ponytail and pulled her head back quickly. He roughly kissed her mouth. Almost driving her teeth into her bright red, full lips. He kissed her hard and long, to the point it was getting difficult to watch them any longer. I took this opportunity to take another gulp of beer to quench the dry tight feeling in my throat. I forgot momentarily about my hard on.

Finally when he finished, he growled. "Suck my cock, bitch." She instantly went to work with those trapped hands and somehow managed to expertly unzip his slacks and pull out his enormous cock and balls. No wonder she was his slave. This guy was hung like a fucking horse. I felt like I was toting around a Vienna sausage in my slacks and I never in my life, ever thought I had a small dick before. It was like he was some kind of mutant.

I sat in stunned silence as this somewhat petite woman managed to caress, suck, lick and swallow the entire length of that humungous schlong of his down her delicate little throat while having her hands attached to her collar. I felt like a kid looking through a candy store window. Wishing it was me she was working her magic on. Maggie aka/my boss could suck dick like a fucking maniac. Jim had leaned back on his elbows and smiled contently as she sucked his cock, licked and sucked his balls, then pulled his slacks down and buried her face into his taint and ass like she was eating pie at the county fair. I could hardly believe what I was watching. What I wouldn't give to have that woman suck my cock. Jim obviously could read my mind. It may have been because my tongue was hanging out of my mouth and I had absentmindedly grasped my erection through my slacks, leaving a wet spot on the front of them. "Don't worry son, you'll get your chance but not right now." We have other things that need to be done first.

As quickly as he had told her to start, he was now telling her to stop. "Maggie, get up and lay back on the ottoman." She obediently pushed herself up from her kneeling position by her elbows and walked over to a large round leather ottoman and lay on her back. I watched in fascination as he manipulated her body like she was made of silly putty. He drew up each long leg and attached the ankle cuffs to special rings built onto the side of the ottoman. Her pussy was wide open now, sleek and incredibly wet. She was literally dripping down the insides of her thighs and well stuffed ass. He pulled her hips to the edge of the ottoman until her ass was hanging over the side. He unhooked her hands from her collar and attached them to more rings on the opposite end. The ottoman was so large that her arms were outstretched way above her head. It made her tits stand out but the weights pulled on her nipples that had been extended to almost an inch long from the force of the clamps. The weights pulled her tits apart and they dangled by her sides just beneath her armpits. It looked painful but so goddamn erotic. I could barely breathe as a Beethoven symphony played sensuously in the background.

Jim standing there, pantless but still in his white dress shirt with the rolled up sleeves turned to me and explained. "Maggie is allowed and encouraged to express her pain by crying, moaning or screaming if need be. I enjoy hearing it but if it makes you uncomfortable I can put a ball gag in her mouth, if you'd prefer?"

I felt like an idiot but a fucking perverted idiot as I answered nonchalantly. "No, by all means let her make as much noise as she wants." Like I was some sort of assistant director.

Jim pulled out a small riding crop instrument that had a leather flap about the size of a credit card on the end of it. He leaned over Maggie and kissed her again and without saying another word, began to slap the leather flap across Maggie's waxed pussy lips. She squeaked at first then her squeaks and squeals soon turned into writhing, retching howls of pain mixed with pleasure as her labia turned from a soft peachy tone into a bright flaming dark pink and her clitoris became engorged and erect as he whipped her beautiful cunt over and over again. I had never seen anything quite like it, not even in a porn. I was often tempted to hand spank my wife's pussy but never carried through with my plan for fear that she'd accuse me of being some kind of sick fuck. Maggie had tears streaming down the sides of her face as she sobbed, then he abruptly stopped.

He dropped to his knees in front of her sore red pussy and began to lick and rub it with great tenderness and care. Her clit had grown twice its size and was standing out from its protective hood, as he lapped up all her juices that flowed profusely from her weeping vagina. He licked her until she orgasmed with a thundering growl, ending with a soft mournful whimper. She tried desperately to cradle his head with her thighs but they were too far apart for her to do so. He pulled a bottle of lotion out from someplace. I never noticed it before but that's quite understandable since this was like watching a ten ring circus going on in front of my hungry eyes. He rubbed her convulsing, contracting vulva with the cool lotion and she mewed like a newborn kitten as he did it. I have never seen two people so in love at that moment. It was magical. I felt like an intruder but they weren't even aware of my presence whatsoever at that moment.

Finally, he leaned over and his whole demeanor changed again. He barked at her. "You have been a very, very bad girl all day today, haven't you?"

She whimpered in a small voice. "Yes sir, I have."

"So you know what that means don't you?" He snarled.

"Yes sir. I need to be spanked, because bad girls should be spanked hard."

He nodded in agreement "And what else do bad girls get?"

In a voice so small I could barely hear her, she answered like a frightened child. "They get fucked up the ass, sir."

With that he unfastened her ankles and wrists and roughly yanked her by her arms until she was standing upright again, teetering on those sexy black patent stilettos.

He briskly marched her over to a two tiered sort of futon type chair and made her kneel over it with her knees apart. It also had rings on it. I glanced around to see how much furniture in this room was equipped for bondage. More than I thought. Dinner parties must be quite entertaining around this place. I had a feeling she was going to really be noisy this time. He attached her ankle cuffs to the bottom set of rings and then attached her wrists behind her back with her head resting on the upper tier of the cushioned futon. Her tits dangled down precariously, the weights pulling on them and making them sway every time she moved. Her regal ass was sticking up and out with her legs wide apart so we could both look at her pretty spanked pussy. She was already wet again, even after the thorough licking he gave her.

He retrieved his belt from his slacks and doubled it in half as he announced in a booming voice. "I'm leaving your butt plug in for this part of the whipping because you've been such a nasty, disobedient girl."

This part? How many stages of a whipping were we going to have here? I wondered to myself, thinking my poor cock couldn't take much more. I was just about ready to pull it out of my pants and start pounding my pud. I didn't care that it looked like a junior version of his gigantic anaconda, my balls were turning blue.

She whimpered in a sob. "Yes sir, I understand sir."

Without further warning, he swung the belt hard and fast. The cracking sound was punctuated by Maggie's shriek as her poor bottom received the first painful whack. I even grimaced from the sound. Quickly came two more until about ten or twelve violent swings of that thick black leather belt made contact with her tender ass. She went from wailing, to screaming, to sobbing uncontrollably as he finally finished beating her poor red hot, welted, bruised bottom.

Again, he turned into the soothing, sympathetic caretaker as he rubbed lotion all over her big, round, beautiful butt. The angriness of the welts seemed to subside as he rubbed and kissed her bottom until she was cooing with contentment.

He roughly pulled her head back by her ponytail and kissed her full on her sensuous mouth with so much passion I almost forgot that he'd just whipped her into convulsing sobs. As quickly as he turned into caretaker, he was back to being the disciplinarian. He stated in a flat, cold tone. "Now it's time for the paddle."

She shrieked like she wasn't expecting it but I was beginning to see the pattern of their little playtime. She knew damn well he was going to paddle her ass and she was looking forward to it. The entire scenario was mind boggling, how they could go in and out of being a loving, caring couple to sadistic, masochistic lovers in a matter of a split second. It was all beginning to make sense to me. 

He walked over and pulled a large wooden paddle from a drawer in the table beside them. It looked like a huge ping pong paddle. He stroked her ass with it several times like he was marking his spot before he began the paddling. Then suddenly with one quick motion, he jerked that huge butt plug out of her asshole. She gasped loudly and cried out. I could almost hear her tight little asshole slam shut again. He waited for her to stop tensing from the sudden pain of having it removed. Like he wanted her to enjoy one pain before allowing her to experience another one. 

Without further fanfare he slapped that paddle flat against her already abused ass as her cheeks vibrated and bounced to the blow. I was hooked on watching the jiggle of her plump ass as he paddled her all over the entire span of it. He paddled the backs of her thighs and she danced around as much as she was able to move. I watched on in total wonderment as her tits swung violently from the attached weights as this happy, slappy BDSM couple did this sexy little rumba dance of smacking, jiggling and crying to perfection.

I suspected that the paddle didn't hurt as much as the belt but the noise it made was horrific. Loud and reverberating with her shrill cries punching through the echoes of sound it caused when it connected with her pliable flesh. I felt like I was in some kind of dream world straight out of a Caligula orgy. I never in my wildest dreams had ever experienced anything like it before and it would forever alter my mindset toward dominant sex as long as I lived.

Jim had stopped pounding her ass and was rubbing more lotion on her again. This time he moved in closer. She was positioned at the exact height of his giant cock which was standing straight up against his flat belly. He took a handful of lotion and used two fingers to shove inside her ass. She squealed with delight as he twisted his fingers around lubricating the entire rim of her asshole to prepare it for that monster cock of his. My jaw dropped as I watched him insert just the tip of that angry bugger. Her ass opened just wide enough to allow him in and she winced and squirmed a little when he pushed too hard, too fast. He slowed down and backed out just a bit then grabbed her by her hips and drilled that big dick deep inside her ass like he was drilling for oil. She groaned with pleasure as he began to fuck her balls deep. His huge purple balls slapping on her now fully recovered spanked pussy. The slapping noise was deafening as he soundly fucked his beautiful wife's sexy ass, using her ponytail like a set of reins. He fucked her long and hard, like a boss. Like her boss, which he definitely was.




Boss Lady



Suddenly with a fierce roar, he emptied his load inside her sated asshole. When he pulled out he stepped far enough away for me to watch this big glob of creamy white jizz flow out of her gaping asshole like lava. She was moaning as cum dripped down onto her pussy and her asshole slowly began to pucker up. He rubbed his cum into her vulva and labia then scooped up a big glob of it and shoved his fingers into her waiting mouth. She hungrily sucked on his fingers and smacked her lips to taste more. Maggie was already purring like a cat in heat.

Jim unhooked her leather cuffs and released her from the confines of the futon. He ordered her to stand in front of him as he released each nipple clamp. She sucked in her breath as all the blood flow came back to her sore, still rock hard nipples. He turned to me then back to Maggie, lifted her chin, looked deeply into those catlike exotic eyes and asked. "So, do you want to suck his cock now, my love?"

She nodded her head enthusiastically and asked in a sugary sweet voice. "Oh yes sir! May I sir?"

Jim chuckled. "Go ahead. You suck him off and I'll eat your pussy while you're having fun."

I was on auto pilot by then. She pushed me back on the long couch and I don't even remember how my pants got off. All I know was I received the best goddamn blow job I had ever had in my entire life and all the while she was on her knees, sucking, licking and fingering my cock, balls and ass, her husband was right behind her licking her pussy and ass clean of all that cum he had deposited in her. He finished by fucking her happy little pussy with his gigantic dick while she happily slurped away on my forever grateful cock.

I don't think I ever came so long and so hard as much as I did that night. She literally sucked the sense out of me. The only thing I knew was that I was going home to fuck my wife until she couldn't be fucked anymore. Then I was going to turn her over my knee and spank her snotty little stuck up ass until it was bright red and burning. Somehow, I knew she was going to love it and there would be no more boring sex in our home ever again. She was going to be my sweet little whore in the bedroom from now on. 

Things went back to normal between Mrs. Hunt and myself after that night. It was never mentioned again between us. I wondered every day how many marks she had on that luscious naked ass of hers and how big of a butt plug she was wearing under her conservative suit skirt.

She did manage a smile when the UPS man dropped off a package for me that she had to sign for while I was out to lunch. She recognized the company name on the plain brown wrapper. It was a wooden paddle I had made especially for my submissive little whore who was at this very moment waiting for me, kneeling naked at the front door, with a butt plug shoved up her fine little ass just waiting for me to paddle her tonight.

The End



Boss Lady & Daughter



Call it harmonic convergence. Call it luck of the Irish. Or just call it the right place at the right time. The middle of the baseball season and the sport's two top teams are going to war again on Barry's television on a day he has off from work. Not only that, but his regular every other day phone call from his former boss now relocated to North Carolina won't be until well after the game has concluded.

But Barry missed Marjorie a lot and if she had called during the game he would have put the mute button on. She had been gone a little over eight months. The ache of her absence had only been bearable in that they talked almost four times a week, emailed as much and had yet to twitter their relationship.

He wadded up the deli delivery bag and fired it at the waste basket as he remembered Marjorie's words. "I still love my husband. What I can do is, for now." Would she ever look at him as more than a physical fling, or a very close friend with benefits? She had given him a world class blowjob then taught her paramedic daughter how to do the same on him. But all of that paled by comparison beside the fact that she understood the Oedipus thing in his head.

It hadn't scared Marjorie Whitcomb off. She almost seemed to embrace it. It was only one benchmark of his love for her. He needed to tell her face to face, not make her choose, because that was way too risky. Yet Barry realized that for his own peace of mind he had to look into Marjorie's crystal clear blue eyes and tell her that he loved her, not just for now, but for ever. His pleadings to Saint Anthony bore fruit and the remote control appeared in the folds of his recliner just in time to click up the game and the national anthem.

Before him sat a feast fit for a king. Their signature roast beef hero with mayo, pickles the size of a Louisville Slugger, and a cold six-pack of root beer all awaited his attention. The radio was on to get the home team broadcast, even though they were in enemy territory. His mouth started to water as the sandwich headed toward his teeth.

Then his apartment door bell rang. And rang and rang. "Sonuvagun!" he said and plodded slowly to the door with one eye on the screen. Warm up pitches were in process. He looked out the peephole in the door and saw nothing, but the door across the hall. "Stupid brats," he muttered, thinking it was a weekend with no parents watching the kids visiting the grandparents in the building and the little brats thinking it is fun to ring doorbells on the old people and run.

Barry had just lowered himself back into the recliner when the door bell rang again and again. Fists started to bang on the door. He bolted from the chair and didn't bother to use the peephole as he wanted to catch the little rugrats in the act. Barry jerked the door open and a full grown woman in shag cut black hair and a petite maid's outfit which left no doubt as to what she was serving ran by him into the apartment foyer.

"Close the door. He's following me!" said the woman. Her legs, in fishnet stockings and stiletto heels, had the contour of a thoroughbred. "You've got to hide me."

"Hide you? From what? I don't even know you," said the slightly shell shocked man, stealing a quick glance past the maid toward the TV where the top of the first had commenced. 

"You don't know me?" she said, racing toward hysterics. "That's a fine how do you do after my mom told me that I could come to you with my problems."

"Jeannie? But you've got black hair," said Barry, who now started to see the resemblance to the paramedic daughter of his paramour.

She tugged the black wig from her head releasing her brunette locks. "It's a wig, brainiac! And no, I haven't quit the paramedics to be a maid. This is just a, well. You've got to hide me."

"From who?" The answer came with a thunderous pounding upon his door. 

"Get out here, Mistress Eve! I'm not through with you yet!" said the man, screaming and pounding in concert.

"Who the hell is that?" asked Barry.

"Well, remember the lessons that you and Mom imparted unto me?" began Jeannie, clearly frightened and trembling. Even her very ample bosom was peppered with goosebumps.

"I started to practice them and picked up a few more tips along the way. Then I let my imagination run away with me and found this maid's outfit and I liked how men reacted and."

"And you got in over your head?" finished Barry. The pounding was now both hands interspersed with a kick or two at the wooden door. "Okay, I'll get rid of him. What's his name?"

"Jojo, but you don't understand."

"Nothing to understand. You go hide in the bedroom. I'll take care of this. Go! Hide in the bedroom."

"Where's the bedroom?" she asked.

"Right next to the bathroom."

She winced. "Where's the bathroom?"

He pointed down the hall. "Turn left at the urinal." When she had gone, he sucked up a deep breath and opened the door to a well over six foot, sculpted and inked up piece of human flesh that Peter Parker would have needed to web up for. A bare chest surrounded by a tight leather vest over leather stovepipe pants and a huge Harley Davidson anniversary belt buckle you could surf the big one at Big Sur with, if you ever had a death wish. His brows formed a V between eyes that looked like ping pong balls soaked in gasoline. Barry was afraid he was ready to huff and puff and, well, you know the rest.

"Where's Mistress Eve?" he growled, trying to look past Barry who was big enough to block most of his sight line.

"Nobody by that name here. I was just watching the game," Barry replied, nonchalantly pointing back to the TV set he was longing to see.

"Yeah? So what's the score?"

"Dammed if I know, I had to get up to answer the door. Now if you'll excuse me?" he said, and started to close the door. A hand slammed against it.

"I smell her perfume."

"No, the Sisters of the Poor were just here making their annual pitch. Got all gussied up too, perfume and the whole nine yards," Barry said, dancing as fast as he could. "I could see where you might make that mistake. Well, got to go. The game is on."

Jojo didn't move. "I know she's here and I am going to take a look."

Barry's ego took a direct hit. Bodily harm or not, this dipstick wasn't going to ruin the entire game for him. "Pardon the cliché, Jojo, but do you have a search warrant?"

"How did you know my name?"

Oops. "You look like a Jojo. Open the dictionary for a definition of Jojo and your picture will be there, once they take it from your most recent mug shot."

"Your picture will be on a milk carton if you don't step aside." Knowing it was a bad move, Barry Chambers still shook his head from side to side. He never got back to the third side because Jojo slammed a fist into the bridge of his nose. The hospital worker crumpled like origami in a whirlpool. The last thing he felt was his head ricocheting off the floor.

He had counted all of the constellations during his time seeing stars. His eyes focused on Jojo straddling him with a fist primed for splashdown onto Barry's face once again. Barry reasoned it was too late to say an entire rosary before he met St. Peter so he stuck to remembering the night that Marjorie Whitcomb satisfied him in her office with the lights out. A goofy smile came across his swelling face.

"What are you smiling about? Crazy jerk. Where is she? Last chance," said Jojo. Barry closed his eyes as best he could and prepared for that proverbial stairway to heaven. He hoped it was an escalator as he was very tired from all of this bleeding. However, instead of harp music, he heard the hammer of a revolver thumbed back and a familiar voice say, "Freeze scumbag. Ryan, NYPD retired. Get up slowly, or I'll put one in you just to hear it bounce around in that empty skull."

Through the haze, Barry wasn't sure if Jojo believed that Barry's across the hall neighbor was a former NYPD detective. All he could feel was the weight of his attacker being removed from his body. "You okay, Barry?"

"Yes, Joshua, thanks to you."

"Good, call the cops," said Joshua, with his snub nose revolver at Jojo's neck just below the thug's interlaced fingers. Jojo had danced this one before. 

"No, Joshua. Just let him go. I'm all right. It was just a misunderstanding."The retired cop was having none of this.

"He must have rung your bell pretty good. I thought you said that you weren't going to call the cops."

"Sorry Joshua. No cops. Let him go," said Barry placing his hand over the gun and pointing it to the floor. "Jojo is a former baseball teammate. The last thing he needs, I'm sure, is a called third strike." The third strike reference got Jojo's attention.

"Yeah, but this isn't over," he said as he headed for the stairway.

"It had better be," said Barry, who thanked Joshua and refused an offer of a lift to the ER. "I've got my own personal paramedic." Once the door was closed, locked and chain locked, Barry called out. "He's gone. You can come out now." He proceeded to stagger to the kitchen where he dropped a tray of ice cubes into one of his new Xmas dish towels that looked great on the refrigerator door handle, it was time to see if they were useful as well.

"Did Jojo do that to you?" He looked at her like she was Medusa unchained and sat back on his recliner and tried to focus on the game now scoreless in the top of the fifth. "Let me see."

"No," he said through the ice filled towel. It came out like "Noff."

Jeannie came over in her maid's outfit, jiggling from top to bottom. Any other time it would be an appropriate consolation prize for Galahad-like qualities. But Galahad never had to breathe through his mouth. "Let-me-see." She gingerly removed the towel and examined the nose. "It doesn't appear broken, just mashed up against your face." Barry glared at her. "It's better than having it flattened like a bowling ball off a twenty-story building." Another glare. "Okay, maybe not. Keep the ice on it to reduce the swelling. I'll get you an aspirin. Where's the medicine cabinet? I know, in the bathroom. And yes, miracle of miracles, I know where the bathroom is. Be right back."

When she left, Barry tried to focus on the TV screen. Shadows were moving back and forth, but for all he could focus on, it might have been a dog food commercial or one where the old couple stand guard by the river in bath tubs. "Here's the aspirin. They were easy to find, right next to your little blue pills."

His reply, "I don't have any little blue pills," came out like "Idonhavlitbloopillls."

Jeannie laughed at him then sat on the floor next to his chair. She gently rested her chin on his hand which she held in both of hers. "Seriously though, it was a nice thing you did for me just now. Mom will be very pleased when I tell her."

The towel moved. "No. She doesn't need to know you were in any kind of trouble. Understand?"

The daughter laughed. "Are you forbidding me?"

"I'm just suggesting. Your Mom has enough to deal with in her new job and all. But it's your choice."

Jean Alyce Whitcomb became quiet. "All right. But you need to let me thank you."

"Not necessary."

"It is," she argued.

"Cook me dinner," Barry suggested.

"I can't cook. Can't sew either. Know what I can do? I've done it before," said Jeannie with a smile, and a very definite rub between his legs. Even bleeding like a rock on April 15th, Barry could feel the waves of ecstasy flow through his loins. He pushed her hands away.

"No, not that way," said Barry. "If you want to thank me, let me take a quick nap then I'll take you to dinner." Ego denied though it was, she agreed. He tilted his head back and she rested her cheek on his hand and stroked his fingers. Sleep was onrushing.

**

Upon returning from the land of Nod, Barry dropped Jeannie off at her place so she could dress for dinner. When she came out the transformation was electric to say the least. A light jacket over a black insert that almost reached to where her grey slacks began exposed a small area of her lower abdomen. Not six pack taut, but soft and inviting though foreboding at the same time. As much as Barry wanted the sensation of rubbing her soft flesh just for the tactile rush it would provide, he locked that thought away as being disloyal to Marjorie.

It was one thing to have the mother ask the daughter to suck you off while the mother is there. It was quite another to do it as your own original thought. Dinner was at a restaurant far enough on the outskirts of town where prying eyes were not on the menu. A booth in the back in candlelight. The maitre'd pulled the table out so they could slide in. Barry saw that his eyes were glued on Jeannie's low cut blouse. He had good taste. Menus were left and he toddled off. 

"It's hot in here," said the daughter of the woman he was missing a lot right about now, especially since his hormones were on overload. She removed her light jacket and displayed very generous breasts beneath a sheer cotton based blouse that was so tight her braless mounds showcased every vein leading to her prominent nipples and areolas. The air escaped from Barry's lungs in a whoosh. He gulped. Jean Alyce smiled.

"Order what you want off the menu," she said. "I brought dessert." A hand brushed each nipple and her eyelids fluttered with pleasure. "Finger food at it's finest."

"Thanks but I'm on a diet," he said. The brunette frowned and ordered a glass of wine with dinner. The waiter carded her, Barry thought, to get her address more than compliance with the law. The meal was fine, the conversation strained as he knew she felt slighted that he wouldn't succumb to her physical charms. He let her pay the bill and they left the restaurant.

"It's such a nice night. Mind if we take a walk?" she asked. She snaked her hand into his and they headed across the street to a nearby skate park that was lit like they were expecting the Shuttle Discovery. Anybody watching them would think they were a living breathing Hallmark moment. "Can you tell me why you don't find me attractive?"

Barry sighed. "It's not that I don't find you attractive, it's that I love your mother."

"She's still married to my father you know."

"For now, I'm okay with that. What, don't think I'm right for your mom?" he asked.

She shrugged and gripped his hand tighter. She steered him to the nearest bench facing the skateboard obstacles that was the home away from home for a core group of six youths of the mixed gender group. For the longest time they were quiet. Jeannie traced circles on the backs of his hands as Barry tried to pretend his blood wasn't doing NASCAR laps between his legs.

Eventually, the breeze picked up and they headed back to Barry's car that had a surprise. Someone had smashed in each tail light and keyed the word revenge onto the paint on either side of the car. "Bet the warranty isn't going to cover that," he said.

From up the street, Barry and Jeannie heard a motorcycle roar to life. He hustled her into the car then jumped behind the wheel. "Buckle up!" He backed out of the parking spot and slammed the accelerator to the floor. Tires spun and smoke rose from their immobility as Barry jerked the stick shift into drive causing the sedan to lurch forward and grip the road like it was clawing its way up Mount Everest. Where was Jason Staithan when you needed him?

"Slow down, Barry."

"Can't. We're being followed," he said, and nodded toward the rear view mirror. Jeannie looked at it and saw the Harley ripping up the asphalt in pursuit. "That Neanderthal look familiar?"

"Jojo?" said Jeannie. 

"And you didn't even have to buy a vowel," said Barry, running a rapidly changing yellow light that Jojo flew through on its red cycle. "Think he wants to apologize for this afternoon?" A side glance at his passenger saw a somewhat glazed look in her eyes. "Jeannie? Are you all right? Jeannie?"

Her hand snaked across his tensed thigh to the bulge between his legs. "This is so hot."

Barry slapped her hand away. "Only one stick shift at a time, Sweetie. Hang on." The girl leaned as far toward the driver as she could and flung her arms around his neck holding on for dear life. "I said hang on, not choke me." A gentle shove was required. The motorcycle was about a block and a half back. Barry was tired of this. Going Dirty Harry might not be the smartest move, but victim time was over. He sliced about ten feet off of the next corner he rumbled over and once again floored it, putting more distance between the hunted and the hunter.

Then he spotted what he had been looking for, a one-way street. Three blocks into it, Barry slammed on the brakes and came to a rubber burning halt. Throwing it into reverse, the car jumped backwards as the accelerator never had a chance to catch its breath. The red arrow flew past the numbers on the speedometer. 

Barry abruptly pulled up the emergency brake and spun the wheel so the nose of the car was facing the onrushing motorcycle. Slamming the car back into drive, he pressed the pedal to the floor. "Want to play chicken?" he said, to no one in particular. A collision was only seconds away on the one-way street. At the last second, the car jumped the curb to the right and took out a mailbox and the last remaining phone booth on earth. The bike crashed into a row of overflowing blue recycle bins sending paper, plastic and shredded paper everywhere into the night, after the rider had to dump it to keep body and soul mostly together.

"Stay here!" Barry commanded Jeannie and started running toward the motorcycle and its rider just now getting groggily to his feet. Barry helped him upright. "Are you all right? Any broken bones? Breathing okay?" Jojo nodded in slow motion. "Good." A firm hand placed flat against Jojo's chest knocked him flat on his backside. "Glad I could be of service."

Jeannie had called 911 and deputies showed up in record time. Everything got sorted out and they were told they could leave. Jojo was going to be a guest of the county for the foreseeable future. As they headed for their car, mangled but running, another deputy showed up, the requisite six-foot plus model in a panther black uniform, sleek and intimidating with a Glock 9mm locked and loaded.

"Jeannie? Jeannie Whitcomb, is that you?"

"Hi Deputy Markham, how are you?" said the paramedic. 

"Okay, was this your accident?"

"We were forced off the road by that maniac biker back there," she said. Barry was next to her.

"I'm glad you and your father are all right," he said. Jeannie giggled and Barry smiled as if sucking lemons first. They said their good-byes and he drove her home.

**

The next afternoon Barry as trying to decide if his black and blue face might look better in James Cameron's 3-D or in Woody Allen's black and white. Outside his apartment balcony was gray, overcast, alternating between monsoons and drizzle. Just the afternoon to line up Lionel Hampton, Buddy Rich, Allison Krauss, Natalie Cole and the Chairman of the Board.

He positioned himself near the balcony with his back to the stereo, a cool beverage and a bag of munchies. The sounds from the Dolby speakers enveloped him like early morning fog at Trafalgar Square. His eyelids descended. It felt like his own personal sensory deprivation tank. Barry allowed himself to drift along, explore his sub consciousness for clues to the future. He started doing the breaststroke in a sea of melancholy as he imagined Marjorie in North Carolina and he a few hundred miles away. The sight of her pulling her scrub pants up past her waist excited him from afar as he looked on covertly. The soft, but well defined curves of her backside always gave him his own stimulus package. Just above her waist band was the hollow of her back and the curves which he followed downward to her ass and those million dollar legs.

Her skin was smooth and sometimes a bit dry. He had rubbed lotion on those shoulders during one of their infrequent trips to the beach before she relocated for work. He missed her. That smile gleamed in the mind's eye. Her words sent through Dolby excellence reverberated like off stone tablets covered with mink. Barry had lost control of this journey. Hand in hand along the beach, she cuddled her blonde head into the crook of his arm, clutching at his chest as it suited her. It was a good thing she knew CPR.




Boss Lady For A Day



The morning had been crazy at work and she had hardly had a chance to talk to him. Looking over towards his desk she could see that he was stressed and not being able to talk to him she felt helpless to relieve some of the tension he must be feeling. He looked really good in the gray shirt and black pants. She could feel herself starting to drip just thinking about what it would feel like to run her hands over his naked chest as he ran his hands over her ass. She was able to pull herself back to the present just as her boss came over and asked her to take care of some things in his office.

He had a meeting to go to that would keep him out of the office all day and there were some accounts that needed to be worked on under his ID. She took the keys to her boss' office and closed the door behind her. She looked around the office with a sly grin on her face. It was set apart from the main service floor and had no windows to the hallway. The desk was very neat and there was a couch along the right hand wall when you entered the room. She sighed as she plopped down in the over stuffed chair and started on the accounts he had left her.

The accounts that he thought would take her the rest of the afternoon were done in under an hour. She wrote out a note to her boss explaining that she needed help on one of the accounts and had called in an exception for one of the other employees to help her - she figured two hours would be enough time. She then called his extension with a sly grin on her face. She could hear the confusion in his voice as their boss' name appeared on his phone and her voice came through the receiver.

"I need your help on a little problem that has come up. Please sign off the phone and come into the office."

She hung up and moved around to the front of the desk. The smirk came back to her lips as she looked around the office. Satisfied with the way everything looked, she smoothed out her skirt and released her hair from the clip. Sitting on the edge of the desk, she let her legs fall apart just enough for him to see up almost to the top of her thigh. He knocked on the door and she told him to come in.

He came into the room expecting to see their boss sitting behind his desk, and when he saw her waiting for him he grinned deviously. Closing and locking the door behind him he walked over to where she was sitting on the desk. He put his hands on her knees.

"So I guess you’re the boss for the afternoon huh? And what could I help you with boss lady?"

In response, she slowly pulled her fingernails down the front of his shirt before pulling the end of his shirt out from his pants.

"I was watching you out there on the floor and it seems like you’re a little stressed today. Luckily for you, I’m a lot horny today so I thought we would help each other out with these little problems. Any complaints?"

He shook his head no. Moving back up to the collar she started to slowly unbutton his shirt, one button at a time. She kissed the nape of his neck as she moved down to the next button. With each button she kissed a little further down his chest. He slowly started moving his hands up her thighs and under her skirt, not wanting her to stop what she was doing. She stopped him just as he was reaching the top of her legs and gently pushed his hands back down to her knees and then finished unbuttoning his shirt. Sliding the shirt over his muscular shoulders and down his arms, she slid off the desktop and pressed herself against him. Trailing her fingers back up his arms and down his sides, she reached for his belt. He lowered his head and started nibbling on her ear lobe as he undid the tie on the front of her blouse then the two buttons and pulled it up over her head.

Her red hair cascaded over her shoulders as she stood in front of him in a black shirt and black lace bra. She had removed his belt and his pants were bunched around his ankles. He kissed her shoulder blade and ran his hands down her stomach. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back as he removed her bra straps with his teeth. She could feel his breath on her breasts as he nibbled one then the other before she felt his thumbs hook under the elastic of her skirt. She raised her head and looked at him before removing his hands and taking a step back from him. She loved looking at him standing there naked in front of her. He stepped fully out of his pants as she watched. She traced the outlines of his muscles with her eyes as he moved to take a step towards her.

She put up her hand to stop him and let one finger slide down the center of his chest to the top of his boxers. Smiling slyly at him, she hooked both her thumbs under the elastic of her skirt and bent at the waist as she slowly pulled it down her legs and stepped out of it. She wasn't wearing anything now as she stood in front of him and she was glad she had shaved that morning. She stepped back towards him and pressed her breasts against his naked chest, slowly grinding them against him. He let one of his hands trail down her back before squeezing one of the cheeks of her ass. She kissed him just below his left ear and then left a trail of small kisses down his neck and chest and stomach as she lowered herself to her knees in front of him.

She kissed over his belly button and then trailed her tongue down the rest of the way to the base of his cock. She placed her hands on both of his outer thighs and slowly let her tongue lick down the top of his cock from the base to the tip and back down the underside. She flicked her tongue across his balls and slid her hands down the length of his legs. She felt him lift her hair off the back of her neck as she kissed the tip of his rock hard cock. She gently massaged his balls in her hand while licking his cock, slowly taking it in inch by inch until the whole thing was in her mouth and he could feel the tip pressing against the back of her throat.

She heard him groan and could feel his knees start to get shake as she swayed her tongue side to side underneath the entire length of his shaft. She moved her head back, letting a little more of him slip out of her mouth and sucked in air as she pulled him back in. She felt him clench her shoulder as the first orgasm flooded through him. Swallowing every last drop, she slowly slid him out of her mouth and licked the last remaining drops off the tip of his cock.

She leaned back on her legs and looked up at him through her hair. She caught the momentary look of rapture on his face as he reached his hand down to help her up. When she got to her feet, he pulled her to him and kissed her. Gently opening her mouth with his tongue, he pulled the breath out of her and massaged her tongue with his. He placed one of his hands in the middle of her back and slowly slid the other one into her already dripping pussy. She moaned in her throat as one of his fingers entered her. He moved her over towards the couch and leaned into her until she was sitting in front of him. She again reached up to take him in her mouth and he moved back out of reach. She tilted her head to the side to look at him and he knelt down in front of the couch.

He trailed his finger down her chest and over her right breast as he nibbled on her left nipple. He continued to move his hand down her stomach and kissed down her torso. Reaching her hips, he licked inside her thigh and buried his face in her pussy. She leaned back on the couch and rested her head on the back. His tongue darted out, flicking over her clit and she pulled in her breath. She raised her head and ran her fingers through his hair as he slid his tongue further into her. He reached up one hand and started kneading her breast and pinching her nipple. That coupled with the little biting and intense licking he was doing brought her to an orgasm that left her gasping for breath.

She removed her fingers from his hair and let her hands fall to her sides. She could hear him laughing softly as he trailed his fingers up her legs.

"You're not tired already are you?" he whispered as he kissed her neck.

She smiled and replied, "Just gathering my strength again."

She reached out and stroked him. She pushed him back and stood up, leading him over to the chair. She had him sit down and turned her back to him before lowering herself onto him. She stopped herself just as he started to enter her and rubbed herself back and forth over the tip, using her already flowing juices to lubricate his cock. He reached both hands up under her arms and massaged her chest. Without warning she sat down on his lap and felt every inch of him fill her up at once. She leaned forward letting his hands on her breast keep her balance and slowly started grinding up and down on his lap. He released one of her breasts and gently slapped her ass as she raised herself off of him almost to the point of releasing him and then contracted her muscles and pulled him totally back into her. She could hear him grunting as he softly bit her shoulder and she sped up her pace. She reached for his free hand and sucked on his finger as he thrust deeper into her with her every bounce. He started kissing her back and she moaned with his every thrust. She felt him explode in her and with his final thrust she came.

She leaned back against him and he laced his fingers over her stomach. She kissed his cheek and raised herself up off him before kneeling in front of him. She ran her finger over his cock and licked their mingled juice from her fingertip before taking the tip into her mouth again. The taste of the two of them mixed together was different and aroused her more than she thought possible. She licked every inch of his cock, making sure not to miss a drop. He stopped her before she was able to once again take him fully in her mouth. He stood up and pulled her towards him.

He kissed her, licking the taste of the two of them into his own mouth. She pulled away from him, determined to taste him one more time. She pushed him down on the floor behind the desk and crouched between his open legs. She slid her lips to the base of his prick while looking up into his eyes. After sliding him out of her mouth slowly, she stood up and looked down at him grinning. He reached up and pinched her ass before she turned her back to him and stood over his face. 

"I want to taste you again … and I want you to eat my pussy while I’m sucking you off."

She pressed her body against him with her pussy against his face her felt him reach around her legs and open her cunt up before his tongue flicked against her. She groaned around him as she felt him fully bury his face in her pussy and start licking and sucking her.

He reached around her legs and spread her ass to get deeper into her. She ravenously began slurping him, licking him up and down was massaging his balls. She tensed up right before she gushed onto his face. She could feel him slowly licking up what she had just released and she lowered her head to the base of his cock and trailed her tongue along the underside of it as she pulled back. He groaned into her as she started moving up and down on him faster and faster. He squeezed her ass tightly as he blew his load in her mouth. She held it all in until he finished and swallowed it all in one gulp.

She released him from her mouth and kissed the tip before rolling off him and sitting on the carpet. She smiled at him as he stood up. He sighed as he reached down to help her to her feet. She asked him if he was less stressed now and he just smiled in reply. She handed him his clothes and she slipped back into her skirt and started to put on her bra. He stopped her long enough to lick each of her nipples.

"Well Ms. Boss Lady, when do you think the next time would be that we will have the availability of the office to resolve our problems?"

She laughed, "I'm not sure about that, hopefully it will be soon. There are, however, other places where similar problems could be ... worked out."

She kissed him and unlocked the door with a wink.



Boss Lady: Interlude



"You're dying to say it," said Marjorie Whitcomb to her lover, Barry Chambers, looking resplendent in his black tux, spit-shined shoes, charcoal boxer briefs, freshly barbered hair and a dash of his favorite cologne, "Driven" sold by the former door-to-door ladies. "Go on, Barry. Say it. I'm waiting to hear it."

The dark haired man beaming from ear to ear tried to serious up as he looked directly into the full length mirror. Even he had to admit that he cut a dashing figure. "The name is Bond, James Bond." He immediately burst out laughing as his exquisite lover embraced him and pressed her cheek against his chest. It had been close to a year since the last time they had been together. Their embrace was one of longing now fulfilled. It continued and he kissed the top of her shiny blonde locks, smelling of lavender. Each time he saw Marjorie, his heart skipped the proverbial beat. She had filled out some since the last time, although it wasn't fat, but toned muscle. She cared about herself and he cared that she cared. It was why he had taken to eating roots and berries for breakfast and lunch and joined a neighborhood gym when they had that mid-winter half price "cut the love slabs" special.

Beauty was in the eye of the beholder and sometimes his lack of self confidence was transferred to her in that he wondered what she saw in him. Rose color glasses had been discarded during their time apart. Many was the night before the fullness of sleep arrived that he wondered if they were just in deep lust or if it could blossom into something more. For him, it had. Yet fear was so rampant within him that Barry was afraid to broach the subject of future in any tangible way lest his lover be scared off, leaving him once more like Charlie Brown and the little red haired girl. He wasn't sure what it would do to him if she left. Last night, as he restlessly patrolled one of the twin beds in his hotel room, he came to the decision that the only thing he had to fear was loneliness. And he had been alone before. The sole question was when to act to quench the never ending thirst for her presence in his life, not just for an orgasm, or a few sweaty nights but forever.

Back to the moment, Barry let his fingers trace her strong back, gently pausing at the clasp of her bra, debating whether to unclasp it and..."What's that I smell, Marjorie?"

"Dinner, silly. I told you I was cooking dinner for you. Did you forget?" she slapped his shoulder.

"I hope we're having something smoked because it looks like that's what is coming out of the kitchen." Heads swiveled to see the first wisps of smoke coming from the kitchen. They rushed over there only to be greeted by the shrill scream of the smoke detector on station on the ceiling. Flames licked the outside of the stove as Marjorie tried to open it and put out the chicken which had become a flambé in the blink of an eye. She was overcome by smoke. Barry opened the windows and the back door then grabbed two dish towels, soaked them in the sink and grabbed the roasting pan and threw it out the back door into the swimming pool. It sunk like a rock.

Choking back a coughing fit, he guided his lover outside and hosed her down with a nearby garden hose. She did the same to him lest there be any errant flames searing their skin and lungs. There they stood for the longest moment. Marjorie was almost in tears as she looked down at her sopping wet body. Barry splish-splashed his way over to her and stuck out his hand. "The name is Bond, James Bond."

Rather than laugh, Marjorie just started to cry. "I just wanted everything to be perfect. And all I did was make a big mess. I'm so sorry, Barry." He embraced her and continued to rub her back to calm the oncoming dry heaves as she started to feel the pain of her perceived failure.

"It's okay, baby. I'll take you to dinner."

"No! I promised I'd make you dinner and dammit, I'm going to do it," she said. "Just as soon as I stop crying."

"Consider it done, m'lady." With that proclamation, Barry scooped her up in his arms and dumped her into the pool. "There you go, shaken, not stirred." He added the Welsh twist as a famous Bond had done so well so often.

"Barry Chambers, you Sonuvabitch!" said his lover, between flailing in the pool and laughing her ass off. "I'm going to drown."

He stood poolside and crossed his arms like Atlas overseeing the earth. Dry to the bone Marjie was the most beautiful woman he had ever encountered, regardless of the ten year age difference between them. He told her once in his best Bogart, "We'll always have AARP." But dripping wet she was a goddess, nipples at the ready and the soft downward curve of her stomach caused him to ponder jumping into the pool and taking her right there. "Marjie? You're in the shallow end. Just stand up."

"Oh," she said, and did so. Once inside, they jumped in the shower to rid themselves of the smoke that adhered to their skin. The warm water cleared the senses for each as they came to the realization that this was the first time since the oral pleasure in her office when the ice had been broken that they were completely alone and free to do as they pleased. She looked at him with a caring he had hoped he would always see in those crystal blue eyes. Her skin felt wet but so good to his touch.

Exploring her up and down with his fingertips and then the strong palms of his hands as she surrendered to the warm water rushing down over her shoulders, over her breasts, glistening in the overhead fluorescent lighting which brought an inner glow to his love for her. She had to know. She wasn't naïve or dumb. Marjorie was smart, a take charge woman who, for this moment, was very content to let him be in charge. He would not let her down.

Down on one knee, he squeezed her inner thighs as she gently parted them to allow access for whatever he wished to use to please her. Of course, she had her preference, but this was his show. All she needed to do was let him please her anyway he wished. He would know. She smiled as her decision was confirmed with the first of his fingers sliding into her waiting pussy. He probed each side of her while searching the pubic hair for that clit which was so sensitive it could be used as a motion detector for an orgasm. She raised up on the balls of her feet when he found it. A nearby towel bar helped her steady herself as he rubbed his rough tongue against her throbbing desire for him. "Oh god, that feels good."

Barry couldn't hear her, but he knew she was enjoying his ministrations. Her free hand was at the back of his head urging it toward her pussy. She tasted so good. Her ass was in his hand. He squeezed it in time to each lick of her clit. Her moaning was loud enough to be heard above the shower. His tongue left her clit and kissed her inner thighs on each side alternating with little nips of her freshly showered skin. Was this the right time to tell her he loved her?

Perhaps not with a mouthful of shower water.

Those strong thighs tensed and collapsed around his face. He was so intent upon pleasing her; he almost missed its beginning. He kept licking and probing until she pushed his head away with both hands. "Stop, you'll give me a heart attack and I'll drown in the shower."

"Okay," he replied, like a petulant child told to stop pulling pigtails. She guided him to his feet and they embraced. Steam enveloped them and fogged the glass shower stall. He slid his arms around her neck and pulled her as close to him as he could and placed his mouth next to her ear. "I love you," he said, and waited.

His life had time to pass before his eyes in both DVD and Blu-Ray before she answered. "I know Barry. I'm not blind." Not on the list of top ten responses that he expected to hear. He held on hoping there would be more. There wasn't. "Let me take care of you now."

"Maybe later," he said, knowing her non-response had totally taken the wind out of his sails. 

The temperature in the steamy shower had dropped like that flaming chicken into the swimming pool in the blink of an eye. Both knew it. Neither spoke of it. She barred him from the kitchen, which still reeked of burnt entrée. He contented himself with a classic movie channel showing "High Society" with Bing, Frank and Grace. He would have given an internal organ to be dropped into that movie set rather than sit in the living room of a woman who didn't love him. He didn't mishear her. And she didn't misunderstand what he said. It just wasn't in the cards for them. Now the question had become, how did he get out of there and back home so he could sort this all out. Dinner was ready.

The table was set with fine crystal, linen napkins and goblets that were fit for King Arthur and his Roundtable. Silver platters with handled domes covering their contents were before each of them. She sat at one side of the table when he held her chair out. He poured the wine, giving her way more than he did for himself. Emotions were harder to keep in check if one was imbibing too much. He wasn't sure how much self control he had to begin with. Had he morphed into a metro sexual? Let's not get crazy, Barry, he thought. Time to be tougher than your anti-perspirant. 

"I hope you like it. It's not what I had planned originally, but I think you'll be pleased," she said brightly. It appeared that he had kept those emotions in check very well because Marjorie was acting like she hadn't broken his heart a few moments ago. She removed the dome from before her to reveal a deliciously presented plate of spaghetti and meatballs. It looked great but the emptiness in the pit of his stomach wouldn't be sated by food. "Aren't you hungry?"

"Not really." She shrugged and started eating with a gusto he had once found endearing. Dashed hopes had a way of stealing one's appetites. "How are things back home? How's Jeannie?"

"Your daughter? After our last time together, it was three days before she talked to me. I called, left messages, sent flowers and even went over to her place, but she wouldn't answer the door at first."

"Do you think I should talk with her?" said Marjorie pausing between sips of wine. "I didn't think she minded that we shared you."

"I would agree, but that last time, I didn't want to share. I called out your name as I was pumping in her. She was offended. As I would have been," he confessed.

"Oh Barry, I'm so sorry. That must have been difficult for you."

"At first it was. But she finally talked to me after I cornered her in line at the coffee shop and she was short a couple of bucks to buy this designer coffee that had the DNA of a meteorite. I paid for it and she sat and let me talk.

"I told her I was sorry but that I didn't love her, that I loved you. That sex with her was just that, sex and not an expression of a lifetime to come. Or at least I thought it was," he said and gulped his wine in one determined move.

"What is that supposed to mean?" said Marjorie, putting down her fork and tenting her fingers before her face, a bit flushed.

"It means I love you, and you don't love me."

"I never said I didn't love you."

"In the shower, I told you I loved you. And all you could say was, 'I know.' It doesn't take a Mensa graduating class to figure that out."

She frowned and still looked lovely. "You're being childish. Did you ever think that I was as scared as you were about how I felt about you? No, you didn't. Did you ever think that I was as surprised for my feelings for you and what to do about them? No, you didn't. Barry, I care about you because of the person you are. But I need to breathe. You can't do everything for me, and that includes doing my thinking for me. If one person gives 110% in a relationship, what is there for the other person to give?" 

Barry felt shell shocked. Marjorie continued. "Look, I don't feel a rush to move this along faster. It will develop a pace of its own. Can you be patient? Can you let things grow, or not? Let's be realistic, when I got married and had Jean Alyce, I thought it was forever. It turns out forever has a shelf life."

He stared from the opposite side of the table. "So, are you gun shy and I am paying the price?"

Marjorie gently tapped the linen napkin against the corners of her inviting mouth. Then licked them which got his attention above and below his belt. She pushed back from the table and walked over to him. She leaned against the table and took his face in both of her hands which now smelled of spaghetti and meatballs. Bending slightly at the waist, she caressed his eyes with kisses then his cheeks and finally his mouth which parted when her tongue tapped against it. They dueled for a moment then held the kiss long and tight. When they angled their heads back, Marjorie looked into his eyes. Hers were shiny.

"Mom won't ever lie to you, or let anyone hurt you ever," she whispered.

"Including you?"

She giggled among the falling tears and slapped the back of his head. "Of course including me, you knucklehead. Now eat your dinner before it gets cold." Her left hand reached over and raised the silver dome to his dinner plate. There was no food to be found, only a stapled sheaf of papers with a raised court seal for the state of New York. Barry picked them up and realized what it was when he read the top of the page which heralded two words, "Final Decree." He looked at her with quizzical eyes.

"That's what I have been trying to tell you for the last few minutes. My husband and I decided there was no sense continuing on with the sham of a marriage. We got lawyers. We admitted to grounds and now we have been released.

"Does Jeannie know?" asked Barry.

"I'm coming up in a week to talk to her about it. And no, you can't help. So you see Mr. Bond, it seems that you are shaken and stirred," she said, and walked back to her place at the table. "And in answer to your question, of course I love you. In fact, very much."

Barry and the rest of the fools within him rushed in. "Marry me."

"What?"

He pushed his chair back, moved over to her and dropped to a knee collecting her hand in his along the way. "Marry me, Marjorie. We love each other. It'll be great."

"No, Barry. I won't marry you. I've been out of my former marriage all of seven days. As I said before, let me breathe. We haven't even talked about it. What would our life be like if we got married?"

"Wonderful." But he knew she had him there. "Okay, so you won't marry me now, but at least please don't say no forever," he said.

She tapped his forehead with her index finger. "I never said no, forever. Let me warm up your supper and we'll talk about what the future might, I said might, be." Marjorie left to reheat his dinner. He went back to his seat. When she was gone, he pulled a little velvet box out of his pants pocket and flipped it open.

"Hang on, buddy. We're still in the game."

For the next six hours, they talked and laughed and cuddled as they dissected what a future together might look like. Kids? She had already had them and he wasn't sure he'd be a good father. Maybe adoption. Perhaps Jeannie would make them grandparents. Bills could be divided. Whatever money they had prior to the marriage would remain separate by prenuptial agreement. He could move down here and find work.

"What about living together for a while?" she suggested as middle ground.

"Sorry, dear. If I am good enough to live together, I'm good enough to marry."

Jimmy Fallon, Carson Daley and Poker after Dark had all come and gone when they noticed that soon the roosters would be crowing. She walked him to the door. "Are you sure you won't stay?"

"As corny as it sounds, not until I get to carry you across the threshold."

She smiled and teared up once again. "You're a good man, Barry. Someone will be lucky to have you."

He encircled her with his arms and held her close. "Not someone, Sweetheart, you."

Seventeen hours later, Marjorie and Barry were entering the hospital fundraiser at the swankiest hotel in the area. It was New York elegant, Vegas cool and Bermuda tranquil all rolled into one. The affair was in the main ballroom with a full orchestra recalling memories of Duke Ellington, Louis Armstrong and the Dorsey brothers. Barry was in seventh heaven. But he already was when he picked up his date an hour ago. His rented tux no longer smelled of scalded chicken which was a plus. But more to the point, his date had dolled herself up as he had never seen her.

Her hair was flipped under, bangs were slightly brushed to the side, and the part showed no evidence of roots whatsoever. It was as if she had been made up by David Copperfield since her face lit up the room as if by magic. Marjorie had selected an off the shoulder gown of electric blue that shimmered all of the way down to her shoes which were a gold match to the clutch purse she carried with her. But the piece de' resistance was the necklace he had brought for her on a gold chain. It was a gold locket with a small diamond on its face. When opened, it brought forth a handwritten profession of love from Barry, forever isn't enough.

The ballroom was wall-to-wall checkbooks. It was said this fundraiser was the social event of the season. For Barry, it had a ways to go before it surpassed Opening Day. Marjorie had to mingle and he dutifully followed along. In one group, she was asked if this was her husband.

"Not yet," he replied and received a pinch on his ass for his trouble. Not a bad tradeoff. Everyone he met who knew of Marjorie extolled her virtues to him. Dinner was buffet style so there would be more time to cajole, arm twist and schmooze for those blank checks of support. 

Once they were separated for a long moment, and Marjorie rushed back and dragged him to the dance floor.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

She nodded. "Yes, but one of our surgeons thinks that his chief of service status entitles him to perks I'm not willing to give."

Barry looked through the crowd. "Should I kneecap him?"

"No dear, not at the moment." After swaying to Unforgettable and Soul and Inspiration, they walked out onto the terrace that led off onto a walkway down a small hill into a garden circled by bushes trimmed into animals. Hand-in-hand they made their way to its middle and she sat on the bench. His hand disappeared into his pocket and the box appeared. Barry sunk to one knee.

"Ready or not, Marjorie, will you marry me?" he asked. Her shoulders slumped and her linen handkerchief came out of the clutch purse. She dabbed at her eyes.

"I told you I wasn't ready to be married again. At least not yet," she said, with a soft voice designed to muffle the sting of rejection. It didn't. He closed the box and started to rise but she shoved his shoulders downward to keep him kneeling. "Not ready to be married, but surely I am more than ready to be engaged."

She offered her hand and he extracted the ring and slipped it onto her ring finger. "Thank you doesn't seem to be sufficient," said Barry. There was no reply because they heard a scream further up along the path. They ran toward it and encountered one of Marjorie's staff nurses in tears and holding the top of her dress from falling off.

"Angela, what happened?"

"Doctor Llewelyn said he wanted to talk to me about a job at one of his surgery centers, but he didn't want anyone to know he was going to steal me. That's why we went off into the garden, but he said I could only have the job if he could..." Marjorie hugged her. A man in a white dinner jacket, Clark Gable moustache, and silver hair ran towards them.

"I don't know what she told you, but she is a liar," he said, out of breath with a cold sweat starting to make its appearance on his vastly wrinkled forehead. He was mopping it up as fast as he could.

"Back off, Doctor. Can't you see what you've done?" said Marjorie shielding the nurse from his bluster. Barry's fists balled up. "You'd better call your lawyer because I'm calling the police. Barry, would you get my phone please?" Her date started rummaging through her purse.




Boss Lady: My Turn



My boss, Karen called me into her office after getting the call from our client. I lost another account and she was going to make me pay dearly. I have been her lapdog for just under a year now and in order to keep my well paying job that keeps the wife happy; I please my boss whenever she calls.

"Jim, it seems to be that you lost another account" she said in a stern voice.

"Uh, I'm sorry... our pricing was too high. Your markups were on the high side. Maybe we can sharpen our pencil next time and meet the price?" I replied.

"What? How dare you talk back to me?" She shot back. "Get over here!"

I slowly crossed her office and came face to face with Karen. She stands about 5-6, shoulder-length blonde hair, nice ample breasts, and a round ass. She is easy on the eyes, but has a demeanor that can cut you in half.

She threw the contents of a file folder on the floor and without saying a word I bent to pick them up. She walked over to me and stepped on my hand with her black patent leather shoes. As I looked up at my supervisor, I could tell that she was in the mood to be serviced and she demands my complete attention.

As she moved her foot off of my hand I instinctively started to run my tongue up her black stocking covered leg. To which she murmured "I trained you well"

She pulled up her skirt revealing her black thong she was wearing underneath. I peeled the thong off of her firmly toned legs and she pointed to her desk.

"Get under the desk!" she commanded. "You are to stay under my desk and service me at will!" I crawled under her desk like a common dog and awaited my next order.

She sat down and spread her legs, moving her chair in I could smell her pussy as it sat inches away from my face.

"Be quiet" she whispered. She leaned in towards her phone and told the receptionist to send in her 10:00 appointment.

I could hear Johnson, one of our clients, come into the room and sit at the other end of the desk. She was talking business in her cold delivering voice ignoring my very existence. Then she tapped me on the head and tapped her pussy signaling me to lick. Johnson was rambling on about a new campaign idea he had and I hesitantly started to lick my boss's moist pussy. She would slowly grind her muff into my face as a sign she actually liked my work!

Then without warning, she kicked me as she pushed her chair away from the desk and I could hear her talk to Johnson as she escorted him to the door.

As I waited for her my emotions ran the gamut; humiliation, excitement, and terror (that my wife would find out). My thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the desktop. She leaned in and said that I should get comfortable and that I would be there all day long.

Over the next four hours, Karen would pull the "lick my pussy while I work " thing until she told me to get out from under the desk.. As I crawled back into the light, I struggled to my feet and stretched my back. She came up to me and kissed me deeply and passionately. I was taken aback at first, but decided as always, to follow her lead. 

She ordered me to strip and I complied. As I stood there naked, she said " I want you to fuck me and make me come. If I do not come – You're fired" 

The challenge has been made and I felt that I actually had the upper hand. Licking her pussy for several hours intermittently hopefully has drawn her closer to coming than any other day would. I laid her on the table and started to kiss her lips, gently biting them. Making my way down her neck with gentle kisses, I stopped at her breasts, then began to suck and nibble on them. Already I could tell that this would be a different day than most, she was like putty in my hands! She let out soft squeals of pleasure as I sucked on her breasts and rubbed my fingers on her clitoris.

She started to grind her pussy onto my fingers when I pulled away from her. She looked at me with the eyes of a child that just lost her toy. I spun her around on the table as I positioned my cock near her pussy. I hesitated for a brief moment, then I plowed my manhood deep inside my boss as she let out a muffled yelp.

Seeing that I had her in a vulnerable position for the first time, my cock got harder as I continued to slam it inside her throbbing red pussy. Our fucking was getting so intense that the table was creaking along with each stroke. I was hoping that the wooden conference table could withstand the violent thrusts she was taking. I could hear her breathing change and sweat start to pool on her chest. I then rolled her over and "ordered" her to get on her knees. I entered her from behind and I pulled her long blond hair, using it to reign her in with each thrust into her warm hole.

Then she started to scream the words I was waiting for. "Oh God! I'm coming!!!!"

Hearing this just stimulated me more. I sped up my thrusts as she struggled to meet each thrust with a grind against my chest. Then as I was about to come, I pulled my cock out and put it next her mouth. She had a shocked look about her when I exploded all over her pretty face! As my semen dripped off of her cheeks, she ran a hand down the side of her face and started to lick her fingers.

I was terrified for a few moments until my boss said "Good Job! Now get outside and finish those reports!" 

I quickly dressed and went back to my desk and worked on the reports as she had asked. She on the other hand, cleaned up and left for a long weekend.



Boss Lady Pt. 02



Apologies for name confusion in part 1. In the earlier part of the story, the character Grant is sometimes mistakenly referred to as Clark.

*****

I turned a lamp on in Ms. Jenna's room and looked around. On the walls were portraits, photographs mostly, of remarkable women in history. Athletes, academics, scientists, all proudly displayed. And above the bed was a painting of Ms. Jenna wearing a tight leather outfit, looking down on a male who was on his knees beside her. His was the only image of a male in the room. He wore a collar, and Ms. Jenna held a leash which was connected to it. 

Mindful of the time, I rushed to the closet and found the belt hanging there. It was apparently one used strictly for whipping, as it had no fashion value that I could see. The leather was dark and supple. I I held it in my hands and braved a quick kiss before placing it on the bed. I disrobed, neatly folded my clothes, and put them aside. I knelt in the center of the room, my heart beating quickly. Ms. Jenna's footsteps approached. 

She entered the room, and switched on an overhead light. She gave a brief once-over to my body, her face registering no impression. I have a good physique. I don't do much to keep it that way - just how I'm built. I'm hairy-chested and have just a bit of a belly. 

"I see you have an erection, Tim. Why don't you tell me why that is." she said, then laughed. "Oh! Don't worry. I won't slap your face. You haven't done anything wrong. Okay? Just tell me what...moves you to be in this," and here she gave my stiff penis a good look, "condition."

"I was excited being near you, Ma'am." I began hurriedly. "And then when I saw more of your beautiful body, well, I felt such desire."

"Desire for what?" Ms. Jenna shot back.

"To be good and to serve you, Ma'am." I said, and my penis hardened still more.

"You have a small cock, Tim. It's definitely below average. Are you envious of well-endowed men?"

"I am, Ma'am. When I see a big cock in a locker room, I think of the power that man has, swinging a big dick between his legs."

"Good, Tim. I'm glad you're being forthright."

"I cannot hide from you, Ms. Jenna."

"That's right. Somebody needs to know the details of your debased and cowardly life. We have much work to do, my boy! Continue about your wish to have a large penis."

"Well, Ma'am" I began, "it's just that women will find out who has a big one, then they tell each other about it, and then... and then... fucking Prince Charming has sluts lined up to service him!"

"But nobody wants your little wee wee? Is that the problem, Timmy?"

"I'm sorry I said 'slut', Ms. Jenna. I'm sorry." Tears formed in my eyes.

"For today, it's fine. We need to see what's going on in that perverted head of yours!

So," she continued. "You desire women and yet you can't get any of them to take an interest in you. Is that because of your small appendage?"

"Partly, I guess." I said, my head hung in shame. "But lots of times, before they get a chance to see it, they turn on me. They don't think I'm good enough. Sometimes they laugh behind my back - with other women. Jesus! It makes me so mad!"

"So, because they're not interested in you, and because they find sexual fulfillment with better-equipped men, you take it out on them."

"I don't mean to!" I blurted." I just get so mad!"

"You're mad at women who make the very reasonable choice of being fucked by a man with an adequate cock. Let me tell you something, Tim. I hope every one of those women who rejected you curses you while they get their pussies pounded by a capable man. What might they say? I'll tell you."

1) 'Glad I got that loser Tim behind me. What a creep! God, Jeff is going so deep!'

2) 'Mmmmmm.This sure takes my mind off that pompous asshole,...Jim...or was it Tim? Anyway, the loser asshole I just dumped. Just so fucking weird!'

3) 'Oh, God! This is some really nice dick I got in me. Jeez! By all means, pump away, Mister Dong! Fuck yeah! And eat your heart out, Tim!, you incompetent weasel!'

"That's what they probably are saying, Ma'am." I said, hearing the awful truth in these words.

"You're not surprised, are you?"

"Women don't like me. They don't trust me."

"I'm sure you're right." Ms. Jenna readily affirmed. " Women deserve better than what you offer, believe me. Every one of them. I'm sure you're aware of (though foolishly unconcerned with) the plight of Women today. They are abused and rendered powerless in vast parts of the world. You, Tim, wielded an unfair advantage in the workplace, buying into the subtle machismo of the corporation, buying into the 

male-superior construct of a male-controlled world and... hiding behind it."

My sin had been read out to me in these closing words Ms. Jenna spoke. Hiding; false bravado; smug chauvinism. And there was weakness running right under this tawdry veneer. Sure, I had the trappings of success, of stability. I had a very decent job, I had prestige. But these were unearned distinctions. I knew plenty of Women who could easily have disarmed me in debate, or dominated me in a board game of one kind or another, and yet were wasting their lives as coffee and donuts girls. Let them rot there, was my take on it. Fuck them. Ms. Jenna's words startled me from my revery. 

"Tim, I can't assemble all the good women who have been insulted and looked down upon by you over the years. But here, in this room, I can represent those trod-upon souls. Through me, they will express certain things. They will give voice to their indignation, their profound rage at their treatment at the hands of men. I won't let them down, and I won't let you off. Get ready to have shit thrown in your face, Tim."

"Yes, Ma'am." I replied meekly.

If truth be known, low as I felt then, I would have wept tears of joy if a woman I had wronged were to push my face into a pile of her shit, freshly issued from her pink little anus. I've got that coming and more, no question. 

Ms. Jenna sat at the edge of the bed and took the belt up in her hands. 

"This is one way to get my message across, Tim. To show you where you stand in the scheme of things." she said, letting the strap run over her palm. "And it's also a way of saying, ''Fuck you'', male pig!' Yes, that's another important function. Women really need to vent. That's why weaklings like yourself appear in the world. To deliver over to the offended women of the world a man they can walk on: someone weak, inflated, frightened. And, Timmy, that's you! you are clearly the 'loser' poster child."

"Now," Ms. Jenna said as she stood and walked around me where I knelt. "We are going to challenge some of your ridiculous notions about women. Stand at the foot of the bed and hold onto the post."

"I did as told. 

"I know I've got a whipping coming, Ma'am."

"Yes, Tim. No doubt. In fact, a series of them, if my estimation is correct." 

Ms. Jenna came to where she was facing me with the end of the belt wrapped around her slender hand.

"My very useful leather friend here is going to help me teach you a lesson." she began. 

"You see, Tim, your stupidly formed attitudes towards women go deep. In any given situation, you would not think twice about keeping a woman down, or sabotaging her if she were to get ahead. You've done it many times, I imagine. Thought of her as a "stupid cunt". How often have you uttered those words? Answer me."

"Many times, Ms. Jenna. Countless times." I said.

"You've said them about me, haven't you, Tim?"

"I have, Ma'am. Many times."

"Well, Tim, I'm not stupid, as you know. But I can definitely be a cunt, depending on the situation. It comes out especially while I'm enjoying having some pretentious asshole male by the balls. Like right here and now, Tim."

Ms. Jenna, gave me one more searching glance, and my knees trembled. With a knowing smile, she moved behind me, waggling the belt from her wrist. I felt her hand on my buttock, lifting it appraisingly. 

"You've got a nice ass, Tim, which makes you still more perfect in your role. The ideal situation for a women who needs to vent is to have someone with a pig mentality, arrogance, and an ass with some flesh on it. We do love to watch it shift and jiggle under the strap!"

Ms. Jenna allowed the belt to slide across my back slowly. A moment later, the first stroke fell, cracking loudly. My right cheek felt on fire, but it was mixed with a warm glow. Another crack. Ms. Jenna handled the belt so assuredly. It struck flush with the skin. I couldn't wait to see the marks she would leave!

"Who's a cunt, Tim?" she demanded, and brought a brisk flurry of belt-strokes down upon me.

"I'm a cunt, Ma'am. I'm all cunt."

"Whose balls are those between your legs, little boy?"

"They are your balls, Ma'am."

Ms. Jenna continued her methodical whipping. She focused for awhile on my legs which gave my burning cheeks a rest. 

"That's enough for today, I guess." Ms. Jenna remarked as she examined her work, then hung the strap back in the closet.

"Come here." she ordered, and I relaxed my fingers from the bedpost where they had held so tightly. I came to her and knelt.

"Get up. I didn't tell you to kneel, did I?" she said, frowning at me. Better be good, Tim, I thought. Otherwise, another ass-whipping could be in store.

"Turn around and look at yourself in the mirror."

I did as instructed, and beheld the lovely red stripes that criss-crossed my ass and thighs. Wow! I thought. A woman did this to me! You've been whipped good by a smart, tough woman, Tim. (And you'll be wanting more of it!) 

I surveyed the marks further, some of which were raising into welts. 

"What you see there, Tim, explains your new relationship to women. Do you understand?" she said, looking me full in the eyes.

"I do, Ma'am. Sometimes a dog needs it."

"Make that anytime, Tim. Anytime I see the need for it. Kneel now."

As I knelt, Ms. Jenna removed her top and her panties, giving me both garments to fold. As I tended to them, I risked a quick glance at her pussy. God! How I wished to worship it! The seat of her power, the ruler of my very life.

"The panties, Tim. Are they dirty?" she asked.

I respectfully examined the panties. There was a light brown streak from where her anus had rubbed against it. 

"A little, Ma'am."

"You'll take care of that later. Now, what do you see, little boy?"

"Such a beautiful woman!" I cried out. "I'm so lucky to have been given a strapping by you, Ma'am. You gave it to me good!" I said, feeling almost feverish in my devotion.

"I know my place, now, Ms. Jenna." I said, then paused.

"I'm your dog, aren't I Ma'am?"

"You are definitely my dog, Tim. Why, look how far we've come. Only yesterday, you were calling me a cunt and a whore!. Imagine that."

"I'm so sorry!...I...God, I'm so..."

"Shut up!, dog-boy! I can always go to the closet, Tim. I'm warning you! No more of your childish blubbering!

I did manage to shut up. Damn! I kept getting overexcited. No control. Just a stupid-ass dog with a hard-on. But Ms. Jenna would change all that. 

I knelt with my head hung, ashamed of my stumbling. 

There is your bed, Tim." Ms. Jenna said, indicating a large cardboard box, some two feet by six with its top removed. It was just a foot off the ground and easy to step into. Inside were an old wool blanket and a worn sheet.

"I may call you at any time of the night to serve me. Be prepared. Well, get in. Try it on for size." she said, and laughed. "Oh, Timmy's got a new home! How exciting!"

I stepped into my new home and arranged the bedclothes. I knelt in my box as Ms. Jenna prepared for bed. After bringing a glass of water to her bedside, Ms. Jenna approached me. If I'd had a tail, it would have been wagging wildly at that moment. Mmmmmm. The woman who whipped my ass. How beautiful, how powerful she is!

"Tim. We just got started today." she said, and stroked my face softly. I ventured to kiss the soft palm of her hand - the same hand that had swung the belt so hard and fast into my flesh. 

"I want to worship you, Ma'am." I said softly. "Please."

"You will, Timothy. But that's a training all in its own. For now, though, you may wish to say a few words of respect."

With Ms. Jenna's dark pubic thatch only inches from me, I bowed my head.

"I want to pay my respects to your pussy, Ma'am." I said, afraid to raise my eyes to look upon it. This woman frightened me so!

"Let me hear." she commanded.

"You rule over me, your foolish little pig-dog. Your greatness is immeasurable. I know that you must be firm with me, and I don't know how I could have disrespected you so before!"

"Good, Tim." she said with satisfaction, and she offered the back of her hand to be kissed. "Tomorrow, you'll come here after work. Straight here, understand?!"

"Yes, Ma'am!" I cried delightedly. I began to whimper like a puppy, I was so excited. I loved the sounds that came from my throat. She wasn't stopping me, so I gave full range to my dog sounds.

"Goodness!" Ms. Jenna exclaimed. "such a happy little doggie!"

I frisked from side-to-side in my box, whining gently as Ms. Jenna petted my head.

"Now, don't you foul you sheet! I find anything there, you'll get it good!"

I snuggled down into the musty blanket as Ms. Jenna clicked off the light. 

More to follow.



Boss Lady Pt. 03



I had more or less forgotten my apartment for the following weeks. I brought a supply of clothing - underwear, fresh shirts for work, etc., to Ms Jenna's. I was given use of a half bath next to the washer and dryer. I hung my suits on the back of the door, and the rest I stowed in the small cabinet below the sink. Ms Jenna came there once each day to inspect. 

The learning curve was steep, to be sure. As Ms Jenna trained and guided me, I became more aware of my deeply conflicted feelings about women - how I hated and resented them, and how I longed to have that exposed, and to atone for those sordid thoughts and feelings at the feet of a woman who knows the score, i.e., who knows what a contemptible, sad-sack loser I truly am. That was where Ms Jenna came in. She would help me to change, but she would always be sure to remind me that I was a lowlife. A dog. I was slowly learning.

I cooked Ms Jenna's meals and was grateful that I had some skills along those lines. In the kitchen, I wore the outfit provided me. This consisted of an apron that hung from my neck, covering my chest and reaching to my knees. It was a printed fabric with images of cartoon images: Tweety Bird, Humpty Dumpty, Spongebob, and the like. Besides the apron, I wore a pair of pink, fuzzy slippers. This was my kitchen uniform. Breakfasts could be stressful as Ms Jenna was very particular about how her eggs were done.

The first time I made an omelet for her, she was not pleased. She looked at the plate as I carefully set it before her. She spread a napkin on her lap and I refilled her coffee cup.

Ms Jenna then lifted the plate from the table and dropped it onto the floor. The plate broke, and eggs were strewn everywhere.

"Take this out of my sight, you idiot." she said matter-of-factly. I immediately fell to the floor and began scooping up the debris.

"Get it off the floor, Tim. Clean the floor so that there is no trace left, then make my omelet CORRECTLY!! You have five minutes. Don't keep me waiting."

I ran to the broom closet in the hall and found a dustbin and brush. I began to sweat from anxiety. Moisture showed through on my apron. I was attending to the floor with paper toweling, hoping that I would finish in time. I looked up briefly at Ms Jenna who was cooly sipping coffee and reading the Wall Street Journal. At the stove, I found myself fumbling with the pans and watching the clock. In the final seconds, I placed the fresh omelet before her. She looked at it approvingly, much to my relief.

"Go clean up the stove, then get your food dish."

I dashed about at the stove, happy to have gotten through the crisis. Then, I brought my food dish to the table. I placed it on the floor at Ms Jenna's feet. I stayed by the bowl on all fours, waiting. Soon, bits of food dropped into my dish, and I quietly lapped them up. How sweet to dine from a bowl at my mistress's feet! 

And so, over time I became more consistent with the meals, and Ms Jenna seemed content. On weekends, often while Ms Jenna watched soccer games in the living room, I would clean the floors and vacuum the carpets. I'd also change Ms Jenna's bed linen. While I worked, I would hear Mistress hooting and cheering her team on. The volume on the TV was up, and there was a general din coming from that quarter of the apartment. I checked in with her frequently. Sometimes she would have me get snacks for her - chips with artichoke dip, peeled shrimp, guacamole. She drank beer on these occasions, and could get quite impassioned about the game. 

When doing weekend housework, I wore a castoff pair of Mistress's panties. I could barely get them on, they were so tight, and it was very uncomfortable for my genitals. I also looked a fool. My ass was barely covered. It just hung out to the sides. Sometimes, when serving refreshments, Ms Jenna would give me a hard pinch on my buttock, or give it a good slap. Normally, I jumped, and she would get a good laugh.

One Sunday, there was an important game; a semi-final that Ms Jenna's team would compete in. As the game progressed, I could sense that our team was struggling. Ms Jenna scowled at the screen, cursing under her breath. The normal levity and excitement of Sundays were distinctly absent in her demeanor. 

In the final minutes, Ms Jenna remonstrated fiercely from her seat. She was quite furious!

"You stupid shits! How much are they paying you cocksuckers!"

I entered the room with a fresh beer and a refill on the chips. Ms Jenna, by now, was not only very angry. She was drunk.

I quietly placed the refreshments beside Mistress. She seethed at the edge of her seat. As I was exiting, I pitched forward from a blow from behind. The glassware and bag of chips I carried fell around me. Clearly, Ms Jenna had given me a full-on boot in the ass!

"Get up!" Mistress commanded, as she continued kicking me. I scrambled to my feet and faced her. I was afraid of what she might do to me!

Ms Jenna took a wide-legged stance, and fell to delivering a vicious series of blows. As she slapped me, she excoriated the team members she found to be negligent on the pitch.

"You fuck-up! Take this." she said, methodically slapping each reddened cheek in turn.

"You blew it, asshole!"

"Yes, ma'am! I could have done better. I'll play even harder next game!" I replied, knowing full well that this player was a dick-driven blockhead like me. Why not punish me? I would have messed up even worse. 

It was really good to see Mistress disburden herself like that. I felt like I had served an important purpose. I don't believe women should have to internalize their rage at the injustice and callousness of men. I'm pleased that I am available for Mistress. I could always see that Ms Jenna was more relaxed and confident after she was done with me.

For quite some time, Mistress did not permit me to touch her in any way, except for thankful kisses to her hands after a session with the belt. She liked teasing me. She would casually walk naked in front of me, or come to breakfast naked. If she ever found me looking at her, I was in for it! So I kept my eyes down and did my work. She knew, of course, that I would sell my soul for a chance to simply kiss her feet. 

Sometimes, returning from work, she would carelessly strip in the living room while watching the evening news. She would strut about with a drink in her hand and occasionally drop a garment. It was my duty to collect these items as they fell, and fold them neatly. After a day in the office watching her when I had the chance, it was a remarkable treat to see here beautiful body emerge from her business suit.

One time, she stripped from the waist down, wearing only her prim wool jacket and white blouse.

"How do you like the look, Timmy?" she asked, taking a few steps in front of me.

"You are a goddess, Ms Jenna." I replied from where I was kneeling, the outline of my erection showing clearly through my pants.

"On that topic, Tim, soon, I am going to allow you to worship me. I think you are ready to express yourself in this intimate way. Are you prepared for that? I feel that you know your place now, and it's time you showed me that you've learned it properly. Do you know what I expect?" she said, placing a foot on the arm of a chair. Her regal mound stood out prominently. In my most inner being, I fell to my knees before it.

" I feel, Ms Jenna, that I could best serve you as an obedient dog."

Yes, that goes without saying, doesn't it? Now, It's been a month since our... arrangement began, Tim. How often have I given you are strapping?"

"Eight times, Mistress."

"Some more difficult than others, would you say?"

"Yes, Ma'am." I said, remembering one recent session. I was still healing from it.

"That's right. Much depends on my mood at the time. I want to tell you, Tim, that you stood up well under the most severe of them. I was actually perspiring from the exertion of it, myself! So, kudos, Tim. You took a good whipping."

"Thank you, Ma'am." I said.

"And the wounds are healing well, eh?"

"Very nicely, thank you Ma'am!" I said, remembering her careful attention to dressing them.

"Excellent. Now, go to my room, undress, and get the belt."

My buttocks were still quite sore from the last whipping, but these times together were so sweet. In them I felt completely defeated and emptied of my arrogant biases. I was reduced, especially in the last session, to a quivering, sniffling, begging fool. One moment I was pleading with her to stop, the next to give it to me good. I had never felt so shattered inside, and yet so thankful. I swiftly made the preparations in the bedroom, secretly wishing for a reprise of her powerful performance. At the same time, I thought about the tenderness of my condition. The areas where the skin had broken were now forming scabs, and it would be, from a medical perspective, good to give them a rest.

I knelt naked in the middle of the floor with Mistress's belt neatly coiled before me. When she entered, she went to her dressing table and brought the chair from there and placed it about five feet from me. She sat and we faced each other.

"Don't worry about the belt, Tim. It's here as a reminder only."

'Sometimes I need it, Ma'am." I said, venturing a glance at her. 

She removed her jacket and blouse, and I folded them and placed them to the side. 

"Now, Tim, down to business. Why on earth should I allow a lowly worm like you to worship me?" she said with an amused look of disbelief.

"Because, Ma'am, you have shown me what I truly am. I remember thinking of you as just some haughty, conniving...well..."

"Well what? Come on, now. Be a man, Tim. What? A bitch?"

"Yes, Ma'am. I saw you as ...that."

"And?"

"Well, there was more to it than that, I discovered. You readily exposed me as someone who patronized and hated women. You saw through my games and said 'fuck you'! On top of that, you simply outclassed and outmaneuvered me at every turn."

"And I enjoyed bringing you down, Tim. I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all, Ma'am. I've learned some hard lessons, and I can see myself much more clearly now."

"And what is this new image of Tim?" 

"I'm, well... someone who needs to be controlled." I said. "And, I thank God every day that such a beautiful and competent woman has stepped up and broken me." I said, feeling the wonderful truth in the words, and a quaver of devotion in my voice.

"You say that I've broken you, Tim. Say more."

"Ever since you came to the firm, I've hated your coolness, your easy way with Grant. As though you were equals! And when I first tried to push you aside, you simply ignored me. You were riding high while I floundered in your wake."

"Tim, when did this hate become something different?"

"I started to admire your will, your strength, your intellect. I was still calling you bad names under my breath, but I also thought... well, it's hard to say it."

"I insist that you do. Proceed."

"I began to fantasize about the two of us being at the office late - just the two of us, and you would be standing at your desk going over figures. I, for my part, would quietly fall to my knees behind you and give your ass a soft kiss. It thrilled me to think of it! Finally, I could let my weak, trembling self come out and just be!"

"That's a lovely story, Tim! Kissing my bum! How sweet!" she said, and rose from her chair. 

"Look at me, Tim." she directed, and I raised my eyes. There she stood, legs apart in a strong stance. I looked adoringly at her body.

"It makes sense, you know, you're being an asskisser. I sensed it all along." she said, walking around me. "I could feel your eyes on me. You weren't very good at hiding it."

she said, laughing. 

"I thought about giving you a lobster bib anonymously for Valentine's Day so that you wouldn't drool on yourself!"

"I certainly would prize such a gift, Ma'am!" I said, excited by the image of wearing it.

"Well, you're in luck." she replied, then went to her dresser.

"Here you are, little Timmy. I'll put it on for you."

Ms Jenna approached, and unfurled the plastic bib. I looked down and saw the red image of a lobster displayed on my chest as I felt Mistress's fingers knot a bow at the back of my neck.

"Well, we know where to start then, don't we?" she said, a tone of mischief in her voice.

Ms Jenna stood two feet before me, turned her back, and displayed her gorgeous ass. My penis was jerking excitedly as I beheld the smooth and ample flesh.

"Now, let's not forget, my boy. You are here to worship. You obviously feel lustful desire, based on the angle of your ridiculous little organ. But you are here to show respect. Understood?" she queried, looking over her shoulder at me.

"Absolutely, Ma'am."

"So, then, what words of praise or respect do you have to offer my beautiful ass, Tim?" Mistress said, running her fingers lightly over her cheeks.

"I wish always to be behind it, to be able to look upon it."

"Really? Do you mean like looking at a television?" Ms Jenna shot back, giving me a glaring look.

"Oh, no! No! to revere it!"

"All right. Then tell me, what is it that you bow to? Explain your feelings behind this." she insisted.

"For me, the image of a strong woman's ass symbolizes Female power; the power of women over men. Ms Jenna, there are millions of weak, pretentious men out there who would secretly be very content to serve and attend to a capable woman, and in any way she chooses. The payoff for the weakling is that he can hide in her formidable shadow. This is what he desperately needs. So, you see, there is both a need a need for us, and a need in us."

"Yes, I suppose." she said, uncertainly. "Bring your leash."

I proceeded to go, on my knees, to where my leash and collar were, beside Mistress's bed. I returned with them in my teeth, and dropped them softly on the floor before Ms Jenna.

"Well, put it on, jackass."

"Sorry, Mistress. I...I...wasn't..."

"That's right. you weren't. Now, move it, dumb-ass. Jesus Christ."

I secured the leather collar and, when I drew nearer, Mistress stood over me and attached the leash. I began to frisk about from excitement, but Ms Jenna pulled up hard on the leash. 

"Be still and prepare to worship."

With these words, Mistress turned her back to me, and I found myself staring at her wonderful ass.

"Little doggies are always sniffing other dogs' assholes. Have you noticed that, Tim?"

"I have, Ma'am. I'm a little doggie, too!"

Ms Jenna shifted her weight, and I watched mesmerized as the smooth, soft flesh of her buttocks moved languidly before me.

"However, not every dog gets to sniff my anus, Tim. Surely, you know it is something that is earned."

When Mistress spoke these words, a deep craving to have my face embraced between her warm cheeks swept through me. Oh! How I would show my devotion and respect if given the chance!

I began to whimper, and Mistress turned on her heel to gave me three sharp switches with the leash. Damn! If I didn't control myself, I'd never get my nose up her ass!

Naturally, I shut up at once. I looked down at the floor, waiting.

"Tim, I understand your excitement, but you need to be controlled. I enjoy whipping you, so it's not a big problem, but you must take control of yourself at some point."

"Yes, Ma'am." I said contritely.

Mistress knelt on the armchair, her rear facing me and her arms draped comfortably atop the back of the chair. I knelt as an atmosphere of holiness descended on the room. With a mild shock, I could see that Mistress's sacred mound was slightly visible. I could make out the line where the outer lips met, and the light thatch of pubic hair covering them. My eyes greedily traced the contours of her buttocks and thighs that so sweetly enshrined this display of her womanhood. 

"Come here and bring your knee cushion, Tim. You'll be here for quite a while."

"My heart pounded as I came closer and positioned myself behind Ms Jenna. As I did this, I thought about the ways I'd treated her contemptuously, and how I had tried to prejudice my colleagues against her. Such foolishness, really. Here was a tough, capable woman. My antics at seeming superior were now quite laughable! I was now a dog who had been whipped properly and in every way: intellectually, emotionally, and with Mistress's belt. 

"Just kneel there for a while, Tim. Consider your situation here. You are a beaten and broken man. Who beat you, Tim?"

"You beat me, Ms Jenna."

"And who broke you?"

"You did, Ma'am." I said, feeling the wisps and vestiges of my ridiculous male pride dissolve as I spoke these words.

"Do you like the view from back there, Timmy?"

"Oh, God. You're so beautiful, Ma'am!"

"Really? Do you find my ass cheeks beautiful, little boy?"

My eyes moved greedily over Mistress's lovely, soft buttocks. There were a few blemishes - pretty little pimples - on the otherwise flawless skin.

I inhaled the exquisite fragrance of Mistress's body and awaited my instructions.

"Now, Tim, I want you to give each of my cheeks a kiss. And when you do that," she said, looking over her shoulder at me with a steely glance, "I want you to apologize to me for being such a remarkable pig in your behavior towards me, and for being, on the whole, an devious worm."

With deep erotic waves moving over my body, I pressed my lips to Ms Jenna's sweet ass and I repeated those words.

"Very nice, Tim." Mistress encouraged. "Those feel like very sincere kisses! I'm certainly enjoying this. Are you?"

In my intoxication, I pressed my cheek against Ms Jenna's warm buttocks. Had she asked me something?

"That was a question, Tim! I told you, either you pay attention and control your impulses, or there will be trouble! I'll put stripes on your body that will be there for months!"

"I'm sorry, Mistress!" I cried, and continued to nervously kiss her ass. "Please don't be cross with me!"

"You are an all-time fuck-up, Tim! Did you know that?"

"I'm trying to control..."

"Look. Just shut up. I happen to be in the mood to have my asshole cleaned or I'd otherwise be tanning your pathetic butt right now. So, do yourself a favor and shut up, okay?"

"Yes, Ma'am!" 

The notion of being allowed to attend to Ms Jenna's asshole overwhelmed me. I would never have expected such a gift at this stage of my training. 

"You haven't exactly earned it, but it's important to give rewards for training to be truly embodied. So, remember that what little you've done right so far has persuaded me to make this exception."

"Oh, Mistress!" I said, my voice breaking. "Oh, generous Mistress! Bless you, Ma'am." 

"That's enough of that." she snapped. "Now, get your nose up my ass, pig-boy!""

Of course, I immediately and joyfully obeyed, moving my nose to Mistress's crevice. With the tip of my nose running along the surface of that warm, musty canyon, I could smell her, and I needed to try very hard to not be hasty or make a commotion. Earthy vapors greeted my eager nostrils from beneath.

"Tim, I see it as a sign of your subjugation for you to be given a... what's the term...?"

Mistress said, teasingly. "Ah, yes. A brown nose!" Mistress said, and the very thought electrified me. 

"Thank you, Ma'am! you are so kind to me."

"Now, based on how things feel back there, you should be able to get a nice coating of my residue onto your nose. See what you can do, little doggie! Go!"

With that, I worked my way between the warm cheeks. I kissed as I went along, just something I did spontaneously, and mistress did not object. God. I was in heaven! The man who once tried to push this lady around was now doing his all to get his nose up her ass!

Eventually, the tip of my nose came up against Mistress's sacred sphincter. I began to energetically nuzzle it. I pushed forward, intent on fulfilling Ms Jenna's wish as well as I possibly could.




Boss Lady Pt. 03



"That's a good boy!" Ms Jenna said, cheering me on. 

"Sit back for a second, Tim." Mistress instructed. I rested back onto my heels.

As I did so, Mistress grasped her ass cheeks in her hands and spread them apart. There, before me, the very symbol of Female Power exhibited itself to my worshipful eyes. The regal beauty of Ms Jenna's anus overwhelmed me. I knelt there, humbled.

"This should make your job a bit easier, Tim. But before you get back to, shall we say, painting your nose, take a good look."

Ms Jenna's asshole was a sweet pinkish brown. A light brown corona framed it from above and beside, feathering off to tapered points above. I fell entirely under its radiant spell. This was where my nose and tongue belonged.

All right, Timmy. Get back in there and show me you mean business!" Mistress said with glee in her voice.

With the greater access, I dove back into my happy task. As I worked, I could tell that I was accumulating something on my nose. I hoped Mistress would be pleased with the results!

"Okay, Tim. Sit back, and let's take a look at what you've done, shall we?"

Again, I sat back on my heels. Mistress rose from her kneeling position, turned, and sat on the chair facing me. I felt myself blush as she scrutinized me.

"Come here." she instructed. I rose back onto my knees and inched forward.

"Excellent, Tim! Now that is a brown nose! Ha! Aren't you a sight!" Ms Jenna said, then laughed.

"Come and look, Tim!" Mistress said, laughing freely now. She led me to the mirror above her dressing table. We stood side by side before the mirror. There I was. As Ms Jenna happily watched our reflection, I took in the spectacle. A man who had once held sway as an analyst with Archer Associates, someone once celebrated for his business perspicacity, stood beside the woman who had broken his spirit, had whipped and humiliated him. He stood there with that woman's shit on his nose. What was he now? Someone who, given the chance, would beg for more of the same!

'You love it, Tim.' I told himself, and simply yearned to feel Ms Jenna's ass cheeks warm against his face once more.

"It's the new you, Timmy! I think it suits you well, you little asslicker!" Mistress enthused.

"May I..." I began.

"What, little boy? May you what? Oh! Do you mean you'd like to get to know my anus a bit better? it is a nice anus, isn't it? Isn't it just the cutest thing?" Mistress said coquettishly.

"It's beautiful, Ma'am." I said with deepest sincerity. 

"But you haven't yet cleaned it, have you?" she inquired.

"May I..."

"Yes, you may. Yes you must, in fact!"

Mistress returned to her former position, bending forward to expose the exquisite orifice. Again, I felt humbled, even weakened, at the sight of it. Here was where I could serve Mistress best. It was where my ardor and, indeed, my talent, lay.

"Come forward." Mistress ordered. " Make it nice and clean, won't you little Timmy?"

I drew close and brought my lips down to meet the darkened pucker. The surface was very warm and slightly tacky. I kissed it. The smell heightened my lust and, as I kissed more, I found myself whimpering like a little lost dog. I was so happy! Here was a strong woman who had shown me my place. How good to know one's place, regardless how low and insignificant! 

"Well, sounds like we have a happy doggie!" Ms Jenna said. "He likes the way my asshole smells, doesn't he?"

"Yes, Ma'am!" I replied, and continued my joyful sounds. I ventured my tongue-tip into the hole. It tightened down on me, and I responded with loving flicks of my tongue. Mistress seemed pleased, moaning pleasurably.

"Good boy, Tim. Get into all the grooves and clean well. You'll be doing this on a regular basis - once when I awake in the morning, and again when I return from work. Oh! Good job!" she said as I plunged further in. I could feel tiny particles coming free from the places I was probing, and these I swallowed dutifully. I was pleased to help in this regard since paper can't quite reach to all the areas an eager tongue can. And I felt proud that Ms Jenna would go to work each day with a clean anus. I looked forward to being at work and seeing Mistress walk by so that I could say to myself: 'I was on my knees this morning licking the inside of this beautiful woman's asshole.'

At one point, I withdrew my tongue and, as Mistress held her cheeks apart, I proceeded to lick across the surface of the hole with broad tongue strokes. It was the finishing touch on what I hoped was a satisfactory job done. After blow-drying Mistress and giving the sphincter a final kiss, i sat back and awaited her orders. 

Mistress stood and approached me. Now i was face to face with her pussy. It exuded warmth and an odor of sexual excitement. She allowed the pubic hairs to graze my nose, which still bore the signs of my exertions. Emotion rose up in me as Mistress stroked my cheek and continued to nuzzle my nose with her cunt.

"That's my boy, Tim. You are my boy, aren't you, Timmy? Such a good little fella. I think I'll keep you for awhile."

Hearing these words, I fell prostrate on the floor before her, and with my arms around her ankles, I reverently covered her feet in kisses. With Mistress's help, I had found my true self: a whimpering, asslicking, whipped dog at the feet of a woman who knows how!

Thank you, Ma'am!

End



Boss Lady's Daughter



Home plate was ninety feet away. I licked my chapped lips. Dare I make a dash for it? Even at my age, could they really throw a softball that fast? Eddie Feigner this guy wasn't. But, then again, I was no Brett Gardner. Still, what's the worst that could happen? The score was tied and if we won, we'd be out of last place. The last time my hospital softball team was out of last place in our league, Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman was at shortstop. 

Strike one. Another meeting on the mound between pitcher, catcher and the entire infield allowed my mind to wander back to my recent encounter with my boss, where she gave me oral pleasure of the like I had never experienced. My heart still ached for her embrace. My lips had been spoiled by the tenderness of her kiss. I needed more. The scent of her being captivated my senses. I, once again, felt her cool hands on my cock and balls. 

And then I remembered the ring. The substantial wedding ring on her left hand. A sudden roar from the not-so-sparse crowd watching our game snapped me back to the present. I started tracking the fly ball toward centerfield. It bounced twice and hit the wall. Victory would be ours. I shifted gears into my home run, foregone conclusion trot toward home plate and victory. 

My trot came to a crashing halt as my foot stumbled in a rut on the base path. My ankle went left and the rest of me went right and flat on my face.

"God—bless, America!!" I screamed. Six feet from home plate and I was paralyzed. The ball arced home from the outfield. I started clawing at the dirt. I wasn't going to be denied. Handful after handful, I scratched the ground, moving slower than the proverbial molasses in January. The second baseman caught the relay, spun on his heel and fired the softball toward the stocky catcher blocking the plate. Only it bounced to his right. By the time he snatched it and slapped the tag onto my bruised and bloodied hands, they had touched the plate.

Paramedics were called. A man, stout with compact, economical motions arrived first, followed by a gorgeous brunette, filling out her uniform shirt in every conceivable spot. She was all woman but I was old enough to be her very young grandfather. Such was life.

The girl knelt beside me and placed her medical bag next to her. As she bent down, I stole a quick look down her shirt and saw the smooth flesh of youth in two very mouth-watering mounds. She snapped her fingers. "Up here, sport. Eye contact. My name is Jean. What's the problem?" she said, in a voice mimicking velvet on satin. I pulled my uniform pant leg up. "Oh, that looks nasty."

During the trip to the hospital ER, she took all of my information. When I was waiting for x-rays to be confirmed, all of my friends and co-workers from the OR just had to come over and slap my back for the grit, then laugh at the fiberglass cast they were putting on my ankle. No need to keep me in the hospital, only a severe sprain. I had the unit clerk call for a cab. I wish Marjorie had been there to kiss and make it better. But my boss was out of town at a conference.

A minivan pulled up to the curb. "How are you doing, hero?" said the paramedic. "Need a lift?"

"No thanks. Got a cab coming," I said. Briefly, I felt like a dirty old man, only briefly. 

"Cancel it. Heroes don't ride in cabs. They get chauffeured home," she said, and opened the passenger side door. "Get in."

Small talk made the trip to my apartment all-too- quick. Jean helped me into my place. She surrounded me with all of the amenities and placed my crutches nearby. "Thank you. That's great."

"Glad you're all set," said Jean. It was warm enough for her forearms to glow with perspiration. She smelled like a freshly opened bar of soap. I thought of her washing my back in the shower. That dissolved rapidly into the reality that I wanted it to be Marjorie, but the ring still got in the way. "Just one more thing." With that, the lithe brunette reared back and slapped me full across the face with the flat of her hand. I somehow kept my head from doing a 360.

"What the hell was that about?"

"You don't know who I am?"

"Give me a hint, Thelma or Louise? Mind telling me why the slap?" I said, more confused than angry.

"My name is Jean Whitcomb, Marjorie Whitcomb, your boss, is my mother," she screamed. "And you fucked her! I read it in her diary!" Her hands went to her face and she fell back onto my recliner, sobbing in earnest. Her shoulders heaved up and down for the better part of ten minutes. Eventually, Jean came up for air.

"Are you alright?" I said, unsure of what to expect. "I mean, you aren't going to go Kill Bill on me anymore, are you?" 

"No, I wouldn't waste my energy on you."

"Look Jean, I don't know what to say," I said.

"You could say you're sorry."

"That would be a lie. I'm not sorry," I said. My courage was flowing through my veins at breakneck speed. "I know you don't understand, but your Mom and I are two consenting adults."

"Bastard. What about my father?" she spewed.

A third voice entered the fray. "What about him?" said Marjorie Whitcomb, sunglasses in hand and cheeks reddened from the wind riding over here in her convertible. "What about your father, Jean Alyce?"

"You cheated on him," she said.

Marjorie arriving felt like Rin-Tin-Tin getting the cavalry to help get Rusty out of a jam. She stepped further into the living room, placing her purse on a nearby table. Her windbreaker went over a chair. She was wearing a very tight tank top that showed off her glorious tanned shoulders, and a flouncy pleated skirt of a contrasting color.

My boss leaned over the back of the couch and kissed my cheek. I resisted pulling her down over the couch onto me. "Hi Barry. I got back early from the trip and your little act of heroism at the game is the talk of the OR. How's the ankle? 

"It only hurts when I get slapped in the face," I replied.

She pointed to her daughter. I nodded. The resemblance wasn't striking, but there was no doubt they swam in the same gene pool. The daughter had more breast, mom more rounded ass cheeks. Each had that slightly off-center smile that rocked my world.

"Mother? About Daddy?" insisted Jean.

"You've noticed that your father has been spending less and less time at home and more and more time on the road building up the business? That was by design. There are peaks and valleys in every relationship. We are in a definite valley, but before thinking about divorce, we thought we'd take some time apart to see if this was worth saving," said mother to daughter.

"It is," said the daughter. 

"Respectfully, that isn't your decision to make. Anyway, your father and I decided that we would have no restrictions on each other during this time. So in our current circumstances, what Barry and I did was not cheating," said Margie. Her arms were now across her chest accentuating her breasts. My heart rate doubled. Jean had adopted a similar pose and had more to accentuate. Each set of nipples needed a mouth. "And what possessed you to invade my privacy and read my diary?"

Jean's reply was a typical hand-in-the-cookie jar response. "I don't know."

"It's off-limits. Are you having dinner with Troy tonight?" she asked, trying to ratchet down the rhetoric.

"Troy and I broke up. He said I wasn't hot enough in bed."

"I find that hard to believe," I blurted out. Both women looked at me. One was a glare and the other said, let me handle this.

Mom embraced daughter. "Oh honey, I'm so sorry." The embrace got closer and Margie kissed Jean's cheek. "Maybe I can help. Did he at least say you kissed all right?"

She smirked. "No, Mom, actually he said I kissed like a dead mackerel," she confessed.

"Son of a bitch," replied Mom. "Maybe a pointer or two is in order."

Mom took a step back and jerked down the straps of her tank top, exposing faint copper skinned shoulders, not a tan line in sight. My hand rubbed between my legs. Then she stepped forward embracing her daughter as an intimate lover gently pressing her lips against the younger woman's. A tongue outlined their shape. A hand went behind her head in case she rejected the lesson. 

But Jean Alyce was more than up to the challenge. Both of her hands cupped her mother's blonde head and she kissed each closed eye in turn then each cheek and ran her tongue from the ear lobe down the curve of her neck to the shoulder.

"That's it, Jeannie. You are making me so hot!' said Mom, her head tossed back as Jean went from lips to nape of neck to tongue right down between her breasts.

"How's that Mom?" she smiled.

Mom smiled back. "Don't tell me you're going to stop after getting me this excited?"

"But I, I mean," said Jean.

Marjorie slid off her tank top to reveal another lacy pink bra with sheer cups. As I said earlier, her nipples needed a mouth desperately. Only it wasn't to be mine. "Come on, baby. Finish me. I'll help you if you need it."

Her daughter seemed frozen in time. Mom took her hands and stepped into her embrace placing the daughter's hands on the pink bra strap.

Jean Alyce gulped in a deep breath of air and unhooked the lingerie. It was dropped to the floor and I got to see first hand the breasts that I had salivated after for a very long time. They kissed again and Mom placed a hand on her daughter's brunette head, gently pushing her toward the nearest nipple. The woman took it eagerly and slurping sounds could be heard across the room. My rubbing turned to groping. It was filling my hand through the material of my pants. I squeezed then rubbed, all the while not taking my eyes off of the two women before me.

The daughter went from breast to breast and Mom moaned and whispered encouragement. Then she stepped back and pulled off her daughter's shirt not wasting a moment to pull off her bra as well. "My turn," said the maternal figure with that mischievous smile.

Marjorie licked each breast all over, making tight circles with her tongue then larger ones leaving a trail of saliva that glistened in the light. She rubbed her own cheek onto it. Movement below caught my eye. Margie was undoing her daughter's belt and unzipping her pants. White high cut panties came into view atop very toned legs. The definition was triathlon chiseled.

"Come on, Jeannie, step out of these so I can really teach you," suggested Mom. The daughter complied. A flat hand rubbed her daughter's smooth stomach then down over the growing wet spot where her love mound was dripping faster than a garden hose after a car wash. This time Mom didn't ask as she slid her hands up through the leg openings and pulled the waistband down all of the way to the young woman's ankles and off. This bush hadn't seen any kind of trimming since birth and was moist, dark, full, and framed the entrance to her sexuality exquisitely. 

I groped faster and with more dedication. Mom pushed the legs apart and sunk her tongue right into her daughter at her most succulent point. Jean gasped and clutched her Mom's hands so as not to fall from her weakening legs. Her moaning got louder as Marjorie knew where to probe, how long and how to tease her daughter into wanting more. Jean's hands once again surrounded her mother's head and she started thrusting her hips onto Mom's lips, fucking her face.

"Come on, Mom. Lick harder. That's it, Mommy. Oooooh, that is sooo good. Deeper Mom, deeper." The words took on a very dry, hoarse tone. She sucked her lower lip in over her teeth and held it in place with her upper ones. All of her concentration was flowing to her hips, until suddenly her thrusting started to bear fruit.

"Oh-my-God!! I'm coming. I am coming!" she screamed. Hips mashed up against her mother's face again and again. "Keep coming!"

All-too-quickly for my taste, Jean Alyce sighed as if finishing a marathon and fell back into the same chair she had occupied after slapping me. She gleamed from head to toe and even from across the room the aroma of satisfaction wafted through the air. Mom was still on her knees. Her own chest heaving up and down. She sat back on her haunches.

"Wow, Mom. That was great," said her daughter. "I've never had an orgasm like that."

"You're welcome. Now that you know that you can, the rest will come naturally," said my boss and the object of my affections since I was introduced to her about 18 months ago. I wanted more than just lust but kept it quiet because I didn't want to scare her off. I had forced myself to be content with whatever she was giving me. "Help me up, dear."

"Oh no, you don't. Turn about is fair play," said Jean, who gripped Mom's wrists and pulled her to her feet, spun her around and pushed her onto the recliner.

"It's not necessary to," protested Margie. Jean Alyce had learned her lessons well. She flipped up the skirt to reveal equally pink and transparent panties that got rolled down and off as quickly as the time it took to swat a fly. Margie's pussy was lovely. It took whatever breath I still had clean away. She was a natural blonde, but the splashes of gray there gave a growth spurt to my cock that was now fully erect though still tenting my sweatpants. It wanted out.

Jean wasted no time in spreading her mother's pussy lips with one hand and rubbing that very pronounced rod between them with the other. She spit on it to keep it moist and rubbed faster, harder. Marjorie dug her fingernails into the arms of the recliner and arched her back to meet her daughter's probing tongue.

"Oh yes baby, right there." Her moaning grew in intensity and volume. "Suck my pussy, baby. Suck my pussy. I'm going to come. Oh, oh!" Fingers that were rubbing the clit moved downward a little and tickled the other opening. Marjorie sucked in all of the air in the room. "Yes, stick your finger in my ass. That's so grreeat," she howled. 

Jean Alyce slung her Mom's legs over each shoulder and burrowed deeper into both holes with renewed vigor.

"Like that, Mom? Like Jeannie fucking you?"

"Oh yes, keep fuck," said the woman who had brought her into this world. She locked her ankles behind her daughter's head which spurred me to rub faster and tighter. Only trouble was I couldn't see her fingering her mom's ass. All I saw was the back of her brunette head bobbing up and down with each shove of her mother's open hips to that very eager and piston-like tongue, driving further into that juicy love home with each succeeding push downward.

Jeannie was slurping the flood of desire that was dripping from between Marjorie's legs. Abruptly the hips went down and then shot upward with finality. The muscles in Margie's upper thighs tensed and strained with the dedication of Jeannie to return the orgasmic favor. The hips stayed up, the head pushed down and Marjorie Whitcomb's lungs expelled a deep-throated, guttural growl of pleasure from the deepest corners of her sexuality.

Just as suddenly, both Mother and daughter slumped backward, uncoupling but smiling. Jean's face was wet from ear to ear with her Mom's juices. They were both spent. However, I was still at the launching pad. Mother lovingly smiled at Jeannie and tousled the top of her head.

"You are a quick study," she said.

"I had a great teacher," she replied with a similar smile.

"So did I, you can thank your grandma for this little teaching moment." Jeannie's eyes widened. "Don't look so shocked. Your grandmother was all woman. And so are you, baby."

Mom leaned forward and kissed her daughter's wet forehead. Her eyes wandered over to me, on the couch with a fiberglass cast on my ankle, breathing shallow, but rapidly, using both hands on a very stiffened male member. "Oh my, Barry. Looks like you could use a hand as well."

I smiled and stared back at her. "Maybe both hands, thank you very much."

Marjorie smiled. She ran her hands over her breast that displayed quarter-sized areolas, a distinguishing feature she shared with her voluptuous daughter. Each one was squeezed in turn. The inside of each set of thighs before me were wet with success. Mom turned to her daughter.

"Come and give Barry a hand, Jean Alyce," she said, kissing the girl's cheek with lingering affection. She reached for her wrist and had it jerked away.

"Help him? Are you crazy?" she said. Fire was in her eyes and she blushed from head to toe which only accentuated her pussy lips which seemed to flare with the emotion. All of her muscles tensed. "No way. He fucked my mother."

"And what did you just do?" said Marjorie Whitcomb, in her patented mother tone. She was gently tapping her shoe onto the wooden floor. I was throbbing to the beat. Jean's head dropped onto her ample chest. She thrust out her wrist which Mom took and led her over to the couch where I was struggling to keep myself in check as these women provided a show that I couldn't afford even with a government bail out.

They helped me out of my uniform pants and then pulled down my boxers releasing my male organ to the fresh air. It shot forth, tall and proud and ready for action, oh so ready.

"You take down there, "said Mom to her daughter, who knelt beside my hips and began stroking my cock. "I'll concentrate on this." My boss brought her lips close to mine and spoke in whispers while looking directly into my eyes.

Meanwhile, Jean stroked harder and began licking my balls. I opened my hips a little more. She practically inhaled my left ball and sucked on it, placing her thumb across the opening to my penis like shaking a bottle of pop to make it spray like champagne. I was trying to hold back, but being double-teamed was close to more than I could handle.

"When I was away," said Marjorie, as close to me as her next breath, "I couldn't stop thinking about you, about what we did and how turned on it made me. Several times I almost called you from the convention to hear your voice."

"Boss, you could have called me collect," I said, and smiled before I pushed my hips deeper into Jean's embrace.

Each syllable floated from my boss's generous and memorable lips into my ears. It was tough to concentrate with her paramedic daughter working away at my desire like she was trying to pump up four flat tires. My eyelids fluttered as I rushed closer to the end.

"I know how I feel about you. I'm in very deep lust with you. But you need to understand that I still love my husband. Until he and I can sort that out for now, this is all I can do. What you can have for now is the moment? Is that enough for you?" Her eyes were moist with trepidation. 

I struggled to find the words. Yes, I wanted more but I wanted her to be happy and no strings. Finding the strength to say so was difficult. 

"Come on, boyfriend. Fire this sucker up," said the daughter, licking both hands for more friction. The pause allowed me to catch my breath.

Those blue eyes, reddened by the moment, stayed transfixed onto mine. Marjorie's breathing was quick and shallow. Her skin felt clammy against mine. Ready or not, I could wait no longer.

"Boss, I'd wait for you, forever, 'for now' is just enough," I said, somehow dreading this blonde angel of mercy in my life couldn't take yes for an answer. Her tears began to descend. That smile, once tentative, broadened.

She pressed her tear stained lips hard against mine. Our lips were parted slightly, but our tongues stayed put. This kiss was not for pleasure, though you couldn't tell by the lightening bolts passing between us. No, this was a promise, sealed with a kiss.

Meanwhile, Jean was drizzling saliva down onto my cock as she interlaced her fingers. Marjorie pulled back a little. She smiled in that adorably crooked way.

"Mommy says its okay to cum now."

I didn't need a second invitation. A loud bellow from somewhere in my pelvic reaches fast tracked itself to my lungs and roared forth as obstacles to ecstasy were surmounted.

"I'm coming," I yelled, stretching it to several syllables. I could feel milky cum spurt into the air, all over Marjorie's daughter's face. But to her credit, she didn't stop pumping and at least three more spurts shot into the air, then descended down the sides of my cock like lava onto a human volcano.