1 comments/ 44527 views/ 7 favorites Hostile Take-Over Ch. 01 By: ur_next_lover It was about two years ago now. I had been managing one of the nicest resort hotels in Orlando, but I had my eyes on a bigger prize. Sure, Orlando was great, our business never slacked off and I knew how to keep my finger on every detail of the hotel's operation. But I was tired of worrying about family fun; I wanted a little more sin. Sin City was calling my name, and I was planning my reply. The Vegas hotel was the largest in Mr. Casey's Corporation. Mr. Casey, John if you were a close enough acquaintance, was one of the richest and most powerful men under 45 in America. Mr. Casey had started out a hotel mogul and built his fortune there, but now he had his finger an several pies--Man, I wished one of those pies was mine! How could you not be driven to absolute lust with a man like Casey? Besides the money and the power, which would have been enough for me, he also has devastating good-looks. Well over 6 ft, at least 6'4" if I had to guess, and built like a brick shit-house, it was easy to envision him in his college football days. He never missed his morning work out in the hotel's gym; it didn't matter which hotel, he made sure all his hotels had a top of the line gym. Add to that the dark hair and piercing dark eyes and any woman would start to feel a little weak in the knees. Mr. Casey's hotel in Vegas should have been the crown jewel of his collection. Unfortunately the nit-wit running it had no clue! It should have been the place to be for young Hollywood; it's casino should have been the second home for all the heavy-hitters in the gambling world; it's restaurants and clubs should have been THE place in Vegas for dining and nightlife. I don't know where Mr. Casey found the broad running that place, but she had definitely outlived her usefulness. It was time for a take-over. Through a few short emails and phone calls, I rounded up a handful of THE BEST in Casey's corp. I had the best entertainment guy, the best hospitality woman, I stole the food woman from our Hollywood location and I had already gotten the promise from the casino head to follow my every order when the hotel was mine. They all knew it was a take over, and, since I was ram-rodding the whole thing, I would get the manager spot that the dumb blonde was about to lose. Of course, we couldn't let Mrs. Oblivious catch our scent or she would get to Casey first and we would be sunk, meaning looking for a new job. Casey wasn't fond of surprises in his business, so if you were going to spring one on him, it better be for good reason and you better have a damn good plan for delivery. If she went whining to him first-SHIT! We'd all be in the bread-line. My position was the most dangerous, though. I was the one stirring the shit, which means, if there's a stink, Mr. Casey would not only fire me, he'd make sure the only place I could get a job would be managing the Motel 6 in Nowhere, KS. We decided to meet at the Vegas hotel for the weekend to work on our pitch. We needed to form a plan and gather evidence first. Then, first thing Monday morning, we were flying to LA. Mr. Casey's personal assistant had assured me he would be in his LA office on Monday. We would deliver our plan, get the idiot bimbo out of the way, negotiate pay raises for going out of our way to better the company, and be re-locating before the month was out. Piece of cake, as long as we don't have any surprises. I remember it very clearly. We were in one of the hotel's suites on Friday night. Everyone had flown into Vegas that afternoon, and we were just getting rolling on which weaknesses to highlight, and our plans for making the hotel the multi-million dollar business it should have been. Around 8 there was a knock at the door. Everyone froze. "Who ordered room-service?" , I asked, trying to remain calm as I got up to answer the door. No one answered. "FUCK! let it be the maid" my mind was screaming. I swung the door open, not bothering to peek through the peep hole. Oh, God! There he was. In all his masculine glory. Looking like the cover of a GQ mag; a dark suit, white shirt with the collar undone, no tie. And those eyes. When I finally met his eyes they were burning right through me. My god, how could any woman not want to just drop to her knees and answer his every whim! "Ms. Andrews." and he paused. I didn't know what was coming next; a question, an accusation, an order. All I knew was whatever it was, I was going to comply. If the next sentence out of his mouth was telling my to drop to my knees and suck his cock, I knew I would do it and not protest. Not even a little. Actually, that would be like a dream come true! "Fancy meeting you here." was what came instead. "Mr. Casey, hello. Please come in," and don't fire me! "What a coincidence." "Really, Ms. Andrews? Is it a coincidence," he asked, remaining in the open doorway. Oh shit! He knows! We're screwed! We're so fucking screwed! "Well, sir, since you rarely leave anything up to chance, you're presence here would indicate there is very little coincidence involved." I figured I might as well admit it and start kissing ass as early as possible. Looking around me into the room, he surveyed the faces within, all familiar to him as his employees. "You've gathered quite a collection, haven't you, Ms. Andrews? Whatever can you all be up to? I'm sorry I wasn't invited to the party. " God, it was torture. He had to know, there was no other explaining his being here. Were we sacked, or what? "No, no party. More like a business meeting." "I see. I wonder," addressing the group behind me, "would you all be so kind as to give me and Ms. Andrews some privacy? You've all checked into some of the nicest rooms in the hotel with your employee discount, why don't you go enjoy them for the rest of the evening?" Was he actually sending them to their rooms? That was classic! I probably would have found it humorous if I wasn't so close to heart-failure. The others gathered their things and quietly filed around me and Mr. Casey, each one timidly promising to have a drink or game of golf with Mr. Casey before the weekend was out. He gave nonchalant and noncommittal replies, promisingly only to "give them a call". When the last of the group was gone, Mr. Casey stepped into the suite closing the door behind him. "Ms. Andrews, aren't you going to offer me a drink?" Shit! "Of course, what can I get for you? The mini bar seems adequately stocked." Hey, I might as well get a couple stabs in at the place before I'm sent packing! "Scotch and water, if you don't mind" Please let there be no scotch; I'll excuse myself to go get some and hop the next plane home. Then, at least, I won't have to look him in the eyes when he fires me! But, as I already knew, the scotch was right there, waiting for me. I hurried to make us both a drink and tried to keep it together enough to say, "So, Mr. Casey, what can I do for you? I believe we have a meeting scheduled for Monday morning, is there something you require of me before then?" "Well, Monica,-you don't mind if I call you Monica, right, I mean we're all friends here." I noticed he didn't instruct me to address him as John, so the first-name basis was only one-way. "Monica, there are a few things I will require of you this weekend. I hope you won't mind. You didn't have any special plans for the weekend, did you? I'm afraid I'm going to need your services for the entire weekend. You see, we've got some things we need to work out, you and I." I brought him his drink where he sat on the room's sofa, and said, "Mr. Casey, you know I'm at your service." I knew he could tell that I meant every word of it, too. He knew he was in charge and that I would do anything he asked. Even if he didn't ask, I'd do it anyway. I made my way to the relative safety of the chair directly across from him, a low coffee table between us. We sat quietly for a moment, sipping our drinks politely. I looked directly into his eyes then. There was something menacing about them now. Like he was watching his prey, reading it's every move, hoping it would run, knowing it didn't stand a chance. And I knew it then, too. I didn't stand a chance. Very casually Mr. Casey got to his feet. Startled, I stood up as well and offered to get him another drink. "No, thank you. I would just like to get to business," he said, stepping around the table between us. He approached me then, with the look of a shark, piercing and not missing anything. I could see what his intentions were. I was pretty sure he could see that I wanted it. He knew I wasn't going to resist; well, he knew I would resist, I had to of course, that's what he wanted, but he also knew I wouldn't mean it. And, God! How I wanted it! I wasn't even totally sure what "it" was, but I wanted it, all of it. And he knew I wanted whatever he gave me. Nonetheless, fear caused me to back away from his approach. As if I had anywhere to go. I was stopped by the wall just as Mr. Casey reached me. He bent and kissed me then, not gently, as first kisses usually go, but fiercely with hard, angry pressure on my lips. He reached behind me with one hand and groped at my ass, pressing me to his groin, the other sought out my breast fondling my through my dress shirt. His mouth was rough and demanding. I could hear little noises of protest escaping my throat-I hoped they were convincing. His big hand cupping my ass kneaded to flesh there causing heat to stir in my core. His other hand had snaked it's way to my throat, and he was holding me against the wall with that hand. The pressure wasn't hard, I could still breathe, well, I couldn't breathe, but it wasn't because of his hold on my throat. His mouth left mine and nipped at the skin behind my ear and through my shirt on my shoulder. My breath came in little gasps as he worked his was from my shoulder to where my tits were contained in my bra. I couldn't help it, I arched toward him, wanting him to have as much as he wanted. His hand left my ass and came around to join his mouth at my tits. He bit and squeezed just enough; enough to hurt, and just enough to feel so good. I heard my self moan. I knew the hand at my throat felt the vibration it caused. He stopped and looked me in the eyes, still piercing, almost primal. I didn't know if my noise had not been what he wanted of me. Before I knew what was happening, his hands were on either side of my collar, and the buttons went flying as he yanked in opposite directions. My shirt hung open exposing the tits restrained by the thin material of my bra. It was sheer lace, and I could feel my nipples, erect from the attention they'd gotten, straining against the fabric. He wouldn't be able to miss my arousal. He spoke then. "Monica, it seems you're up to something here in my hotel. Are you planning on letting me in on the joke? Why are you pooling all my best employees? For your own gain, no doubt." He ran his hand up my side, stopping at my breast; his thumb brushed across my nipple. "Not for my gain, sir, for yours. You're right, they are your best employees, I've hand selected them. I have a plan that can make you a lot of money, if you'll let me explain," I was talking faster than I usually did. His hands on my body were making me lose my mind. What I wouldn't give to fuck him. Right here, right now. "Don't worry, you'll get your wish," you could hardly call it a smile, the way he cocked his mouth, wickedly. I was startled, thinking he had read my mind, until I realized he was talking business. Or was he? "I appreciate you're patience, sir." I took a breath and continued. "We were going to present this to you on Monday, but I can give you most of the information now. To be frank, sir, this hotel is below par-" I was cut off by the abrupt pressure of his hips against mine, his hand against my breast, pressing me tighter still against the wall. "What I mean to say, Mr. Casey, it's below par for your company, sir. Mrs. Lutfe isn't the woman you need running this resort. She's letting it fall below the standard of excellence for your company, and she's following the trends rather than setting them here in Las Vegas." I was running short of breath; he had only relaxed the pressure against me slightly during my explanation. "And who, Monica, should be running this hotel? I suppose you have a candidate in mind?", he relaxed just enough to go back to teasing my nipples through my bra. "Yes, sir, I would be taking over the management of the resort-" "Ha", he let out a surprised chuckle, as if to say he didn't believe I had the ability to tie my shoes, much less run his Vegas hotel. "Silly Monica, why would I put you in charge?" With that, he ducked his head to my tits and stated an oral assault on the cleavage and then tits individually. I tried to keep my head. "Well, Mr. Casey, the resort in Orlando is your busiest and largest grossing property. That wasn't the case 5 years ago, when I was promoted to manager there. Five years ago we were the 6th most popular resort and only sold out in the busy summer season. The restaurants were never mentioned in the dining reviews, the clubs never had a wait. Even the family entertainment wasn't THE BEST. And that's what I've made the Orlando resort: THE BEST in Orlando. That's what I want to do in Vegas. No property of yours should be second best." I knew that last line would seal it. Mr. Casey hated being called second best. With that the conversation was over. Mr. Casey's mouth was back over mine, just as fierce as it had been, if not more so. I felt his hand slide inside my bra, the heat of his palm setting me on fire. The thought of his hands on my body, his mouth on my body made me even hotter. I opened my mouth for him, and his tongue probed inside. My hands itched to touch his cock, to feel the heavy growing in his pants. I could feel it against my stomach, pulsing with life, aching to be touched, like I ached to touch it, aching to be sucked, like I ached to suck it. The thought was too much, I had to feel it. My hands inched between our bodies, and found their target. I felt his erection straining against his pants. I moaned deep in my throat; I was dying to have a taste of his cock. Mr. Casey jerked his head up and grabbed me by my hair. I had no other option but to go with him to the sofa he had vacated earlier. He let me go and sat down. He didn't instruct me to sit, so I stayed standing. "Remove those clothes." was the short order. I quickly did as I was told, first removing the damaged shirt and lace bra, revealing a complete view of my upper body including the 38Ds that had been so thoroughly cared for just moments ago. Then I hiked my skirt to unfasten my thigh high stockings. "Leave the stockings on," I should have seen that one coming, damnitt, I hated the idea of annoying him, knowing that lessened my chances of getting what I wanted, which at this point was that cock in my mouth. I moved to unzip and step out of my skirt. This part made me very nervous. I normally go without panties when I wear a garter belt and stockings, I don't like too much bulk under my skirt and I really like to feeling of being so easily accessible should the need arise. But, once I slid this skirt down, I would be bare except for my garter belt and stocking and heels. And, on top of that, would Mr. Casey like my grooming style? Was he a clean-shaven kind of guy? I always go hairless; it makes a pussy look so tasty. There was no way to delay any longer. I slowly slid the skirt down my smooth hips and thighs and slowly bent to the floor and stepped out of the skirt. I heard Mr. Casey's "Hmm," when I stood back up, but I couldn't tell if it was from approval or disappointment. "Turn around." I did. "Bend over." Again, I did, sliding my feet apart enough to make my ass look fantastic and show my pussy lips between my legs. "Stand up and turn around, you're not auditioning for the show girl position downstairs." I did as I was instructed and turned around in time to see him rising off the couch. He took the two steps to close the distance between us. "Get on your knees." Could it be? Oh, please, let me, let me! I thought to myself as I lowered myself to my knees. Mr. Casey stood in front of me. I looked up at him and I knew what I wanted was written all over my face. "Don't disappoint me, Monica." I didn't move, unsure of what he wanted of me. "Well, don't just sit there, you idiot. You've been begging to suck it since I hired you; suck it, before I lose my patience." I was so embarrassed. Could he really tell that I had wanted nothing more since I had first met him than to be in this position and to feel his cock in my mouth? Surely he was bluffing, he couldn't tell, I hadn't been obvious, had I? I reached up to unfasten his belt. My hands grazed his erection and I felt it's pulsing heat. I got his pants unfastened and reached into retrieve the prize I had fantasized about for so long. Little did I know, my fantasies were nowhere near reality. It was bigger and thicker than I ever imagined; porn movie big. I wasn't sure how it would fit in my mouth, or anywhere else! I licked my lips and dug in. I started at the head, (where else?) and made slow circles with my tongue. Then, I did my best to lick every inch of the shaft up and down while I reached in his pants with my other hand to give the balls their fair share. Finally, I opened wide and took the massive cock into my mouth, surrounding it with the heat and saliva the tasty piece had summoned. And tasty it was. I gave it all I had, taking as much as I could into my mouth and slowly sliding it back out. "It's more than you've ever had, isn't it, Monica? Here, let me help you." With that he wound his fingers into my hair and forced his cock onto my mouth until I gagged. He held there and I struggled at the fear of not being able to breathe. "Easy, I know how to teach the ignorant." Slowly, he eased out of my mouth until I could breath easily again. Then, he lurched forward, gagging me again. I struggled less this time, knowing he would let me breathe when I needed to. Again he eased out. "Now, control the gag reflex, it's very unattractive." And with that he was deep in my throat again. I only gagged a little and didn't struggle against him at all. I knew that's what he wanted and I knew it would please him that I was doing so well. He picked up his rhythm fucking my face with more speed. I loved the feel of his cock sliding in and out of my mouth even though my jaw was quickly getting sore from being open so wide. I knew he was enjoying himself and that soon he would cum. My mouth watered around his cock at the thought of getting to taste his cum. I moaned at the idea of it running down my throat. Just when I thought he was about to climax, he pulled my head back and his cock out of my mouth. Before I knew that I was going to miss the tasty finale, he grunted and came on my tits. Damnitt!! You bastard! I screamed at him in my head as the hot globs of cum landed on my tits. I wanted so badly to catch it with my finger and get a taste before it oozed to the floor. "Get up and go wash that off." I did as I was instructed and headed for the bathroom. I was planning to sneak one taste before I wiped all the jizz off my tits, but Mr. Casey was following me. He stood at the door and watched as I cleaned myself. "I didn't think you could be trusted, I was sure you would sneak a taste behind my back; you're so fond of doing things behind my back." I didn't say anything, I could tell my duty now included very little talking. I didn't know what to expect next. Had he had his fun, and now would he leave? Or was that just the beginning? "Why don't you show me the rest of your suite? I've seen sitting area and now the bathroom. How about the bedroom? Is it inadequate, like the rest of my hotel, Monica?" Hostile Take-Over Ch. 01 " The bedroom is right through here," I said, leading the way. I think this is just the beginning, I thought to myself. The thought made my pussy ache. I already want more. Hostile Take-Over Ch. 02 Mr. Casey followed me into the bedroom of the suite. I hadn't had a chance to try the bed yet, but it looked nice enough; king size with plush bedding. The thought that Mr. Casey was moving our "business discussion" into the bedroom was enough to make my pussy wet. After the way he'd just ordered me to strip and then instructed me on proper deep-throating, what he had in mind now was bound to be great. "I see you haven't used your bed yet, Monica. Is there something wrong with it? Oh, I suppose not. You've just been too busy trying to take over my hotel to think about any relaxation. I wonder, Monica, when was the last time you really relaxed? When was the last time you had an orgasm? You don't keep a regular boyfriend, and those young waiters you're always messing around with from your hotel, or I should say MY hotel that you've been managing, can't possible know how to treat a woman." I was shocked. He knew about my sex life? How could he possibly know about the young waiters? I always made sure they knew our relationship was to be kept between us or their jobs would be on the line. What can I say, it pays to be the head bitch. But how did Mr. Casey know? "Oh, Monica, don't look so surprised. It's my business to know what my employees are up to. But, you didn't answer my question. Don't you feel the need to get off? Isn't that pussy of yours aching for a real man? Oh, I know why you're being so quiet. I'm glad that you are such a fast learner; already you understand when I want you to answer and when I want you to stand and look like the slut you are. You're good at our little game. Tell me, Monica, you want me to fuck you, don't you? You want me to pound my cock into your pussy until you can't see straight; until you are moaning and writhing in passion, you're pussy quivering around my dick. That's what you want, isn't it, Monica?" He was moving toward me, the bed behind me. I knew he wanted me to, so I moved away from his approach. "Mr. Casey, I can hardly see how that would be appropriate, given that you are my boss. I don't think it would be very professional of me to be intimate with you," I said, trying to keep up the business atmosphere. Although I was enjoying the sexual turn of our business meeting, I was still anxious to learn if I was going to lose my job for scheming to take over Mr. Casey's Vegas hotel. "And, besides, sir, we still haven't discussed the managerial position here in Vegas." "Monica, I'm the boss, I'll decide the direction of our meetings. You're job this weekend is to be at my service, if you'll recall." With that, he grabbed my wrist and hauled me toward the bed. I tried to pull away with little success. I wasn't ready to move on until I knew if, when the weekend of "service" was over, I would still have a job. "Please, Mr. Casey, I have several ideas about the Vegas property that I would really like to discuss," I said, still tugged futilely to free my wrist. Mr. Casey was not interested in excuses. None too gently, he flung me on the bed. "And to think, Monica, I had just complimented you on being a fast learner," Mr. said, as I scrambled to right myself. "Shit!" I thought. I really didn't want to piss him off any more than he already was. My job depended on it, I was sure. I decided to let the business go for now and get back into my role of reluctant, obedient slut. "On your hands and knees," he ordered. I did as I was instructed, getting to my hands and knees on the bed, facing where he stood glaring at me. I could see myself in the mirror behind him, "damn, I'm a fine lookin', bitch, even on my knees!" I thought to myself. Mr. Casey walked to the side of the bed and removed his clothes. I got a partial view of his magnificent body reflected in the mirror. I was dying to see more, to take it all in, but I didn't dare turn to look at him. I felt him move to the bed, and I saw him take up a position behind me. "Wait a minute," I thought to myself, "he just came all over my tits not ten minutes ago, there is no way he's hard again." Mr. Casey may be in immaculate shape, but he was also knocking on the door to 40. I would have been delusional to think that he could get it up again like an 18 year old. But, to my surprise, I felt the velvet tip of his cock brush against the back of my thigh as he moved to position himself behind me. "You didn't think I had it in me?" Mr. Casey drawled, again reading my thoughts. "Don't ever underestimate me, Monica." I could tell if it was just a statement or a threat. I studied the reflection in the mirror of Mr. Casey positioned behind me. My god, he looked good. His broad chest was tanned and you could easily see he didn't slack off in the gym. One day, I hope to get the chance to just sit and stare at his naked form, to drink in every corded muscle, every perfectly shaped feature. The piercing look in his eye when he caught me ogling him told me today was not that day. He sat back on his heels and inspected the view before him: my ass, the backs of my thighs where the garter belt fastened to the hose, the lips of my pussy. All waiting for his touch, waiting to meet his every demand. I couldn't tell by his expression if he liked what he saw. He slid a finger under the strap of my garter, pulled and let it snap back against my thigh. It didn't hurt, just a little sting. I made a small gasp of surprise. He raised his right hand and came down hard on the ass cheek that had just received the snap of the garter. I could feel the tingling heat from the slap. This time I made a louder gasp. It stung, but not enough that I would ask him to stop. In fact, it would take quite a lot for me to ask Mr. Casey to stop. Quite a lot! I wanted to take whatever he wanted to give! Mr. Casey grabbed the ass cheek he had just punished and squeezed and kneaded it to sooth the sting. Then, abruptly, he raised his left hand and slapped the other cheek. I wasn't expecting it, I had been lost in the feel of his attention to the other side. I jerked a bit from the surprise, for which I received another quick smack. "Sit still" was the annoyed command. "Sorry, sir. You surprised me, is all." I tried to control my breathing and speak normally; to stay in control of the lust pulsing through my veins. Then, ever so lightly, where I could barely feel it, he brushed the back of his hand down my ass crack all the way to my pussy lips. His knuckles brushed against the smooth outside of my pussy, grazed against the protective hood of my clit. It was excruciatingly lovely. The feel of his big hands all over my ass and pussy was almost more than I thought I could stand, but I knew I would have to withstand more. I would have to stay in control of my lust, even though Casey had every intention of pushing me to the brink. He continued to stroke my pussy lips and I could feel myself getting wetter. With the next stroke, he slid a finger between the lips into the slick, wet folds of my cunt. He didn't penetrate me then, as I had hoped. He just stroked and spread and played with my increasingly wet pussy. My clit was becoming more and more engorged with every stroke. I wanted him to focus his attentions on it. I wanted him to tease and stroke my clit until I couldn't see straight, but he kept his attention everywhere but my aching clit. He was doing it on purpose. He was torturing me. He knew I wanted him to play with my clit; he was certain he could bring me to orgasm with his fingers alone. He wasn't ready to give me that satisfaction. My legs were trembling from my absolute need for his hands, his cock, his mouth, anything to get me off. I had to restrain the urge to rock my hips and fuck myself on his fingers. I felt him rise on his knees behind me and place a hand on either hip. I felt the head of his throbbing cock against my cunt ready to enter me. I tried to relax, knowing the size of the thing and knowing it was going to be a tight fit. With one swift thrust he entered me. Oh, God, it was a bolt of lightening shooting straight through my belly. I let out a short wail of lust because the electricity running through me was just more than I could control. My noise was answered with another stinging slap to the ass. Mr. Casey became dead still. "You are nothing but a horny, little cunt, aren't you, Monica?" I wanted him to start moving again. To continue to stroke the inside of me with that magnificent rod, like his hands had stroked the outside. "Yes, sir. That's all I am." I didn't care what I was saying. It made no difference to me, as long as he started moving again. "You parade around like you're the best and the brightest; like my hotel can't run without you. You think you're good enough to run this hotel." It wasn't a question; he knew my thoughts. "But really, when it comes right down to it, all you are is a little, fucking slut. Show you a swinging dick, and business flies right out the window, doesn't it, Ms. Andrews." I was torn, I wanted to defend myself. I was the best and the brightest of Mr. Casey's managers, and I could run this hotel better than anyone, maybe even better than Casey himself. But I also wanted to continue our game. I wanted Casey to control me. I was always in charge. I was the boss everywhere I went. The only person I ever answered to was John Casey, and I wanted to keep it that way. He had proven he knew my thoughts, so I would continue to play along. Say what he wanted me to say. I wouldn't get my chance at the manager position if I quit playing along. I couldn't think strategically with his cock filling up my cunt; my pussy lips stretched around the shaft. "You're right, Mr. Casey. I am a fucking slut. I love big cocks in my little, tight pussy. I don't want anything except your cock fucking my pussy until I'm sore." Hey, there's no harm in ad lib, right? Slowly he started to pull out of me. I had blown it. He was disgusted with my filthy words. He pulled out until just the tip of his cock was still between my cunt lips, and then slammed back into me with so much force that I lurched forward. Mr. Casey reached forward and grabbed a handful of hair to keep me pulled back on his cock. He continued to slam into me; his balls slapped against my pussy lips and sent vibrations up my clit. With each thrust forward, I could feel the weight of my tits swinging beneath me. I was grunting and moaning like to filthy slut I'd just admitted to being. "Oh, God! This is why I love doggy! It doesn't get much more primal than doggy-style," I thought to myself. Mr. Casey released my hair, looped his arms under my shoulders and pulled me back into a kneeling position on his lap, holding me there by looping his arms all the way around my shoulders and behind the nape of my neck, like a wrestler would. My shoulders were pulled back and my arms flailed awkwardly out to the sides. "Put your hands on your head, and quit flailing like a rag doll." He continued to move inside me, but the thrusts weren't as pronounced as our position wouldn't allow it. If he had released me, I could have ridden him to both our satisfaction, but, again, our positions wouldn't allow that either. I looked at our reflection in the mirror. With my shoulders pulled back and my hands at my head, my tits looked amazing. They jiggled and bounced with the slightest movement. The position also stretched my abdomen to an attractive curve. I let my gaze travel even lower. To the point where Mr. Casey's cock entered me. It was a sight made in porn heaven, my pussy lips stretched to accommodate his girth, the shaft, slick with my juices, sliding in and out of me. I caught Mr. Casey's eye in the mirror. "This is a match made in heaven, and you know it!" I told him with my eyes. He answered with a hard, quick thrust. We held each others gaze and he continued to thrust in me, quicker and harder, pulling me down on his cock each time. He was getting close to climax, and he wasn't the only one. All I needed was just a little teasing to my clit, and I would be there. Casey released an arm. "Lick your fingers," was the unexpected order. I did as I was told. "Play with your clit; make yourself cum. I'm not going to do it for you. You better cum before I do," he grunted. He was close. I better hurry. I started massaging my clit as he continued to fuck me. I pulled my pussy lips up and back exposing the engorged clit even more and circled it with my middle finger. It felt fucking amazing. I was so close. I tapped and rubbed my clit, and felt my body start to tense. My breath was coming in short gasps. I was making entirely too much noise, and was sure I would be punished later, but I didn't care. My body was screaming for release, and I knew it was close. I knew Mr. Casey was close too, and the idea of his cock exploding in my pussy, showering my womb with his hot, sticky cum pushed me that much closer. "You're doing it wrong, ignorant bitch," Mr. Casey shoved my hand out of the way, and groped and fingered my clit. I couldn't restrain my lust any longer. I started riding his cock faster and faster as he played with my clit. I rode it until I felt my pussy tense as the fire of my orgasm shot through my body. And then I don't remember much except riding the waves of my own ecstasy. My body trembled and quivered around Mr. Casey's cock as he made his final thrusts and came inside me. I know I let out a throaty moan or two; I just added it to the list of future punishments. I would gladly accept any repercussions, it was worth it. Mr. Casey rested just long enough to catch his breath. He was satisfied for now. I had played my part well. I wondered where we would go from here. We were both obviously satisfied sexually, so would I be able to talk some actual business with him? He has said I was to be of service to him the entire weekend, but at some point he would let me tell him my ideas for the hotel, and why I should be running it, right? "Get off my lap," was the short order. I raised my ass off his lap and moved to vacate the bed. "No, stay there, on your knees." I'd already sucked him off once, but maybe I was going to clean our mixed juices off his now semi-flaccid cock, the same juices that were about to drip from my cunt as I knelt straddle-legged on the bed. But instead of moving around in front of me, as I had expected, Mr. Casey got off the bed and reached for his slacks. "Don't move." I didn't. He fished in the pocket of his slacks for his phone. He flipped it open and I heard the familiar generic "click" of a camera-phone capturing a moment in time. "What are you doing, Sir?" I was surprised to say the least, but couldn't protest. Here I was, sweat slick body, naked, except for a garter belt and thigh highs, pussy lips red and swollen from an admittedly great fuck, and he was taking pictures! Why? "He's going to use them as blackmail," I thought. "It's for your employee file, Monica. We operate a little differently here in Vegas. There are aspects of the general manager position that are unique to this resort. You do want the GM position here, right? I need to be certain you can handle those unique aspects." The way he said "unique" made me nervous, especially since being photographed nude was involved. He moved to stand in from of me and clicked another shot. "Put your hands back on your head." I complied. He clicked another shot. "Turn your head." Click, another shot. Then he stooped and put the phone close to my pussy. I could feel the juices beginning to drip from the inner folds. Click. I gasped, but said nothing. I bet it was a hot fucking pic, anyway. "Look at me." I looked down at him as he held the camera-phone to capture the view of me from below my tits. Click. He straightened. "Spread your pussy lips." Again, I complied. Click. He moved for a close up of just my hand and pussy. Click. I could feel more of his cum oozing down the walls of my cunt to drip off my lips and onto the bed. Click. Click. Click. "Suck those fingers." Click. He flipped the phone closed. "Thank God that's over!" I thought, relieved. "You'll need to clean this," he said, indicating his cock. I crawled to the end of the bed and took his now flaccid cock in my mouth. I licked and sucked the remains of our fuck from it. When he was satisfied I had done a sufficient job, he said, "Go shower and get to bed. We have a lot to do tomorrow." With that he turned to retrieve his clothes. I watched for a brief second, until he caught me. "I thought I just told you to go shower. Really, Ms. Andrews, follow direction." I always knew I wasn't behaving properly when I got the "Ms. Andrews". I climbed off the bed and headed for the bathroom. When I had finished my shower, Mr. Casey was already gone.