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Asserting Authority

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Knock, knock.

Cheryl let me into her apartment and I could see immediately that something was wrong.

“What’s up?” I asked, casually, trying to keep things on a relatively light level. Cheryl wasn’t always pleasant company to be around when she was pissed. I just hoped she wasn’t pissed at me.

“I had a bad day,” she said. She grabbed me by the shirt and led me into the bedroom. “I need to work off some of this aggression,” she said, unbuckling my pants.

Relationships are funny sometimes. Sometimes you have friends, sometimes you have lovers, sometimes you have deep, meaningful relationships. Sometimes you even have fuck-buddies, and sometimes relationships evolve over time from one type to another.

Such was my relationship with Cheryl. We tended to move from one type of relationship to another, but no matter what form it took it was always held together with a profound respect for each other’s sexual nature. Right now we were in the “friends with extreme benefits” stage.

She was a freak and had a wicked imagination, something that I heartily encouraged. She found it easy to open up to me, and I was a safe outlet for her more wild sexual fantasies. This was a woman who pushed her sexual limits with gusto, and whenever she felt it was okay to let go she did, completely and totally.

With me, she knew she could always feel free to do whatever she wished, whenever she wished. Apparently right now she wished for my cock.

She reached into my underwear and pulled me out, still soft but I could feel the twinge of arousal beginning as I knew what was going to happen. Without any ceremony or teasing, she popped my head into her mouth, and sucked hard.

Now, I love the feeling of being soft in a woman’s mouth and growing harder. In my experience it’s not something that most women go for, so I never ask for it, but when it happens I’m always grateful. I like to play a little game with myself to see how long I can last soft before I finally give in.

This time, though, I lost immediately. Cheryl’s talent was unmatchable and within seconds I was rock hard and throbbing.

“Oh, I love how hard you get,” she said, more to my cock than to me.

It was true: the soft skin belied the turgid strength underneath. I don’t know what happens with some other guys, other than what I’ve seen in porn, but for some reason I get very hard.

Cheryl continued to suck, pausing every once in a while to talk to me. “As soon as I taste your pre-come I’m going to jump on your cock and fuck you,” she said, matter-of-factly.

Cheryl, as I mentioned, was a bit of a freak and loved the taste of my pre-come. To hear her it was the nectar of the gods. I never knew when it actually came out, as I never felt anything different or unusual, but she always treated it as if it were the smoothest ice cream, or richest chocolate.

“Mmmm,” she moaned, closing her eyes and tilting her head sideways in ecstasy. “There it is. I love your pre-come.”

She said it every time, but I never got tired of hearing it. There was something exotic about it that never got old.

True to her word, she stood up and shimmied out of her jeans and underwear. Her shaved pussy was viewable for only the briefest of seconds before she leaned over to crawl on top of me. Grabbing my dick in her hand, she shoved me into her pussy and slammed down hard onto my pelvis.

She took all of two seconds to register the feeling of this invasion, sighed, and then fucked the hell out of me.

She leaned on my chest with both hands, occasionally grabbing my shoulders for additional leverage. Her hips rammed down on my cock and then squeezed as she pulled up, doing so as fast as she could. She fucked me hard and violently, like a woman possessed.

I was just along for the ride, and it was all I could do to hang on. Her bed had rather overzealous springs and there were moments when I felt as if I were being fucked on a trampoline.

Her face was showcase of human emotion. Her eyes were squinted tightly shut, as obviously her mind was only partly in the here-and-now. She registered anger, frustration, sexual passion, and as her orgasm started to rise within her, an undeniable look of triumph.

Cheryl is the only woman with whom I had regular simultaneous orgasms. There was something about mine that set her off, and vice versa. This one was a quickie, a sprint to the finish line for her, and she brought me along with her.

As her pelvis slammed down onto my body, I felt her wetness seep down the base of my cock, encircling my balls, making it easier for her powerful muscles to slide along the shaft as she gripped me. Any less and I might have felt like she was ripping the skin clean off.

My own orgasm caught me by surprise, mostly because of how quickly it hit me. Usually I have to work it up, coax it out. This time, though, she sucked it out of me with her body. I barely had time to give a little cry of warning.

She threw her head back etiler escort and sighed as she came. This was unusual, usually she let out a scream or moan or otherwise was far more vocal. She started to slow down as she rode through her climax and then collapsed on top of my chest, her hands still grabbing onto my shoulders for support.

She lifted her head up and flipped her hair over to one side. “Thanks,” she said, starting to pull off me. “I needed that.”

“Rough day?” I asked, my wet cock flopping out of her body and landing on my stomach with a soft slap.

“You could say that,” she said, heading into the bathroom to get cleaned up. When she re-emerged, she was looking more relaxed, but still irritated.

“So,” I said “What happened?”

She grabbed a robe from the back of her closet and put it on. She hadn’t taken off her T-shirt but hadn’t put on any pants either, so every once in a while I could see her bare thigh peek out from under the terrycloth.

“Sometimes I want to slap these little bitches,” she said.

“Your soccer team?” I asked

She nodded. “A couple of them turned eighteen recently and now they think they can do anything they damn well please. Of course, their parents are no help whatsoever.”

I’d heard this refrain before. Cheryl was the high school varsity girls’ soccer coach, and dealing with bratty teenagers was an unfortunate part of the job.

Parents in particular were difficult to deal with. Instead of being a refuge for the overstressed teacher, like it used to be when she and I were in high school, they were in fact a teacher’s nightmare. Every parent thought their precious little snowflake was the best player on the team, and demanded more playtime and attention from the coaches. If the little babies weren’t happy, the parents weren’t happy, and that meant that Cheryl wasn’t happy.

“What happened?” I asked. I was a little nervous, because Cheryl wasn’t always rational when she was angry, and I could see she was working herself up to being livid.

“There’s no one thing,” she began. “But Brooke has been the absolute worst. Ever since she turned eighteen she’s been trying to pull rank and needs to be taken down a few notches.”

“How so?”

“So, today I was having them run drills, and of course Brooke and her posse were standing around flirting with some of the varsity jocks. They like to show off their bodies and get them all drooling. I told them that if they didn’t shut it and start working, they’d be doing double laps.”

I nodded.

“So the bitch turned around,” she continued, “and gave me this look that was the same as if you were talking to a small child. ‘Now, Cheryl, I don’t think that’s really necessary, do you?’ she said to me. Can you believe it? Calling me by my first name in front of her friends just to score points. I wanted to punch her in the mouth right there!”

Whenever Cheryl started a sentence with “So” more than once I knew she was really pissed off. In this case, though, I understood her frustration.

“What did you do?” I asked.

“I told them to start running,” she said, her jaw set firmly in determination. She started breathing heavy through her nose, just like one of those cartoon bulls preparing for a charge.

“Good call,” I said. “I would have done the same thing.”

“Yeah, except that she just started laughing, and then said, ‘I don’t think so,’ and walked off the pitch.”

“Oh,” I said. That was bad. Not only did it confuse the hierarchy of order on the team, but it also meant that Cheryl would have been put in the position of doing something drastic to keep discipline. Knowing her, I knew that she would probably do something that would likely be very public.

“So I told them that if they left they would be benched,” she said.

Bingo. It’s not the way that I would have handled it, so I couldn’t really be too judgmental. In today’s climate, however, a public statement like that would have immediate repercussions given how sensitive the politics of high school can be.

Sure enough, I was right. “So when I got back to my office, I had an email from the vice principal,” she said.

Ayup. There it is.

“Apparently the little bitch had called her mother, who had called the vice principal, who emailed me to tell me that I could not bench them from the game.”

This, of course, was wrong on several levels. For one thing, if a parent called the vice principal then he should have had the parent talk to Cheryl first. Most administrators nowadays are complete pussies, though, and would rather do whatever it took to get parents off their backs, especially since parents will threaten lawsuits at the drop of a hat.

Second, as the coach Cheryl has every right to determine who plays and who does not. As it happens, Cheryl was a very good coach, and had taken her team to the championships the last five years running, winning four of those contests. At the very least the administration genç escort – which didn’t pay her for her coaching duties in the first place – should have at least given her the autonomy to run her team as she saw fit.

This is, of course, above and beyond the very real problem of Brooke’s mother not disciplining her own daughter, which was causing Cheryl the grief in the first place.

I nodded slowly in sympathy. I could understand exactly why Cheryl was pissed and needed to let off steam.

“What are you going to do?” I asked.

She threw her hands up in the air, frustrated. The motion caused her robe to open up and I could see her pussy, still red and puffy from our fuck session. “I have no idea,” she said. “All I know is that I can’t bench her. Plus,” she added grimly, “she’s also the best forward I’ve got. She’s the most fit, the fastest, and the most talented on the field.”

She looked to the side, biting a knuckle in frustration. I felt for her, I really did, but found myself getting distracted by her inviting pussy which was now fully visible. She had turned sideways in the chair and propped one leg over the side, completely relaxed and comfortable in my presence.

“I’ll tell you what,” I said, my tone sounding like I was changing the subject, which I was. “I’ll fuck you again and we’ll go out and get some drinks. My treat.”

She looked at me, considering my offer. “Yeah, all right,” she said, and stood up. She dropped the robe and took off her T-shirt, then climbed onto the bed on all fours. She presented her wonderful ass to me as I positioned myself behind her.

I laid my hands on her ass and started pacing my thumbs around her ass and pussy holes. She wiggled her ass in appreciation.

“Careful,” she warned.

I sighed, remembering. “Don’t worry,” I said. “I know.”

Many years before Cheryl had a boyfriend who only liked anal sex, to the point that this was the only way he would have sex with her. She liked it too, until his size and desire started to irreparably damage her body. The doctor had told her that she could never have anal sex again.

It was such a shame, too. Cheryl had a phenomenal ass, and I would have loved to watch my cock sink slowly past that beautiful, inviting sphincter. Such a waste.

Sigh.

I slid into her pussy instead, and grabbed her hips and pulled her back onto me. I fucked her hard and before long we were both covered in sweat, working off her work frustration.

————————————

I didn’t get the chance to talk to Cheryl for several days, my own job taking up too much of my time. We exchanged a couple of texts now and then, but she didn’t say anything further about the issues with her team.

Then one morning about a week and a half later I got a text from her, telling me to come over to her apartment that afternoon. She had something she wanted to show me. She told me to be there around 2:45.

I was a bit surprised at the specific time, but as it turned out I had no clients to see that afternoon, and could rearrange the remainder of my schedule without any issues.

When I arrived at her apartment she opened the door for me and waved me inside. She was dressed in her coach’s gear: track pants and a tight tank-top T-shirt.

“Had practice today?” I asked, entering her apartment.

“Yup,” she said, smiling wickedly. I had a feeling that she might have some role-play in mind, and we hadn’t actually explored the whole “soccer coach” possibilities yet. Now that I saw her in her outfit, I was rather surprised we hadn’t. It seemed so obvious, now.

“Come on in,” she said. “I have someone to introduce you to.”

I felt a bit dejected. Well, there goes the role-play idea, I thought. I hadn’t thought about having sex with Cheryl when I came over – we often just hung out – but now that the thought had germinated in my head I couldn’t help but feel slightly disappointed.

She turned and led the way into her apartment. It wasn’t very big, only a bedroom, a kitchen/dining/living area that was all one room, and a bathroom. She hesitated at the doorway to her bedroom and cracked a smirk of… triumph? It was hard to tell. In any case she was mighty pleased with herself.

I entered the doorway to her bedroom to see a young girl wearing Cheryl’s high school’s standard-issue athletic t-shirt and shorts, sitting on Cheryl’s bed.

“Brooke,” Cheryl said, addressing the girl. “This is Dr. O’Connor.”

The girl regarded me with a strange look on her face. I could see that she didn’t like me at all. She sat on the bed, both arms thrust down onto the edge of the bed, her posture hunched and slightly defiant.

“Hello,” she said. Her voice came out a strange mixture of anger, sadness, hesitation and maybe even fear.

“Hello,” I said. Then, immediately, “Excuse us for a second.”

I pulled Cheryl outside the doorway, just out of eyesight from Brooke. I lowered nişantaşı escort my voice to an urgent whisper to avoid being overheard.

“Cheryl!” I hissed. “What are you doing?” I was no fool. Even though I had never seen this girl before in my life, I knew exactly who she was.

Cheryl’s smile stayed put on her face, but her eyes were cold and calculating. “I told you I was going to teach this little bitch a lesson,” she countered.

This was bad. Very bad. This was Cheryl’s student. I began to wonder what kind of legal trouble I could be in just by being in this apartment at this point in time. I wasn’t aware of which laws were being broken, but I’m sure there probably was at least one or two.

“Brooke and I have an understanding,” Cheryl called out, loud enough for her voice to carry back not the bedroom. She smiled broadly and returned to the room. I followed behind, very hesitant. “Don’t we, Brooke?”

Brooke looked directly at Cheryl, then lowered her eyes. “Yes, Ms. Jean.”

I remembered Cheryl’s story about how Brooke had called her by her first name in front of her friends. Obviously Cheryl had impressed upon this girl to use the appropriate title when addressing her.

Cheryl went over to the bed and sat next to Brooke, placing one arm around Brooke’s shoulders. Brooke didn’t flinch.

“We’ve been making progress,” Cheryl said, looking at me. “Brooke now has proper… motivation… to be a team player. Isn’t that right Brooke?”

Brooke looked at me and nodded.

“Brooke,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm and safe-ish. I didn’t want to piss off Cheryl, but for my own sanity I had to gauge Brooke’s state of mind. She didn’t have a “scared rabbit” quality but I wasn’t sure what was going through her mind. “Do you want to be here?”

I cast a warning glance at Cheryl not to pressure Brooke for any specific answer, then returned my gaze to Brooke. To my utter surprise, her voice was resolute and confident. “Yes,” she said, definitively.

Okay, I thought. I’m stumped.

“Brooke has a challenge,” Cheryl said. “A bet, in a way.”

In a way? I thought.

“Let him see you,” Cheryl commanded.

“Yes, Ms. Jean,” Brooke said, and stood up.

There was no question about it, the girl was phenomenally good-looking. Her long blonde hair cascaded straight down to the middle of her back, and a little wavy fold indicated that she usually wore it up in a ponytail. She was a tiny thing, couldn’t weigh more than 100 lbs., but muscular and fit.

She turned around, letting me see all of her, and I stood there watching her, mesmerized. This was a girl I could never have had in high school, but every boy dreamed about. The muscles of her body, strong and developed from years of soccer and sports, gave her a predatory, feline quality.

At the tender age of eighteen she had already had several years experience knowing that she had an effect on men (and probably more than a few women, too). She had no shoes or socks on, so the tight legs tapered down to perfectly shaped feet.

Cheryl got up off the bed and walked over to me, took my hand, and led me to the chair facing Brooke and her modeling. “Now that Brooke is eighteen,” Cheryl was saying, “She is an adult, and is eager to do adult things.”

I sat down on the chair a little harder than I would have liked, Looking at Brooke showcase herself was starting to affect my libido, much stronger than I felt comfortable allowing myself to be given the circumstances.

“Adult… things,” I repeated.

Brooke was starting to move a little differently now. Instead of merely turning around in place, showing me her body, she was starting to undulate. Her hands started to touch various parts of her body, directing my attention to her breasts, her hips, her legs. She pulled up the hem of her t-shirt and gave me a glimpse of her rock-hard six-pack abs.

Oh my god, I realized, the awareness hitting me like a ton of bricks. She’s a true exhibitionist!

“Yes,” Cheryl said. “Adult things. So her challenge is to win a race.”

“A race?” I asked, now confused.

“Yes,” Cheryl said, just as Brooke took a step towards me.

“If Brooke can suck you off before I bring myself off, she can stay on the team.”

Holy shit! What?!

As if this was her cue, Brooke fell to her knees and started fumbling at my jeans. The girl had done this before, because soon my fly was wide open and my cock firmly embedded in her mouth.

Cheryl was already starting to slide her hands underneath the elastic of her coach’s pants.

I found it hard to breathe. The girl was remarkably good. “And if she can’t?” I gasped.

Cheryl smiled, barely able to contain her glee.

“You fuck her in the ass in order to stay on the team.”

Brooke’s eyes widened, and she looked at my face, my cock still halfway in her mouth. Apparently this was news to her. She looked at Cheryl, and then back at me, and then started sucking me even harder trying to get me off. The fact that she wasn’t protesting told me something, but I had no idea what.

Cheryl watched Brooke’s head bob up and down on my lap, but she took her time. Cheryl knew that she had the odds stacked in her factor, and she was right.

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Safe Haven

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Brunette

Author’s note: Although ratings are nice, nothing beats a comment or two about what you liked or disliked about a story. Please take a moment to leave one. Thank you.

***

Gina Giordano sighed as she looked down from the tenth-floor offices of Casella and North Investments, watching as piles of snow continued to rise on the streets of lower Manhattan. The storm had already deposited nearly a half foot on the ground, and according to the last weather report, they’d see over two feet by midnight — not a very promising prospect. In fact, the only good thing that was being said about the Blizzard of ’78 was that, since it was a Friday, the city had the whole weekend to dig out before the start of a new work week.

Which mattered little to Gina, because her current work week still had almost another hour to go. Lacking seniority, the twenty-three year old brunette hadn’t been included among those allowed to go home early, and to make matters worse the storm was moving faster than originally predicted so all bus service was going to be suspended earlier than planned. A fact that didn’t seem to impress Joan Hendricks, the office manager who, among her other responsibilities, supervised the girls in the secretarial pool. In fact, Gina was half certain that the thirty-one year old buxom redhead enjoyed telling her the bad news.

When she had first gotten the job six months earlier, Gina had been living with her boyfriend in a really great studio apartment in SoHo. A twenty-eight year old lawyer who worked in his father’s uptown firm, David De Luca had been everything a woman could want in a man, intelligent, good-looking, financially secure, and even great in bed. And as far as he was concerned, Gina was pretty much all he wanted as well. Five foot five and a trim hundred and fourteen pounds, she had a firm, rounded bust that perfectly matched her frame, complementing a figure that even the simple blouses and skirts she wore to work — today’s were white and grey — couldn’t hide, not that she ever tried to do so. While not as educated as most of the girls he dated, she more than made up for it with an exuberant lust for life that he found refreshing, especially in the bedroom.

After almost a year together, Gina had been sure that a marriage proposal would soon be forthcoming. It wasn’t that she was in a hurry to settle down, but having a ring on her finger would be a major step up from being a girlfriend and she would settle for that. In fact, with their one-year anniversary coinciding with his grandmother’s seventy-fifth birthday party, Gina believed David would use the gathering to pop the question in front of his friends and family.

It was at that party, however, that Gina, having had a bit too much to drink, inadvertently offended Regina De Luca by expressing a few opinions on a wife’s role that ran contrary to the conservative matriarch ‘s core beliefs. Views which, in her opinion, casted serious doubt on her suitability as a granddaughter in law.

At first, Gina wasn’t really concerned about Regina De Luca’s disapproval. After all, who was David going to listen to, an old woman who still looked at the world as if it was the nineteen thirties, or the babe sharing his bed who was fucking his brains out every night? In fact, it was only last night that, in anticipation of her imminent betrothal, she made one of his most cherished fantasies come true by letting him fuck her in the ass. There was no way he was going to give her up, or at least so she believed.

But Gina had seriously underestimated how much sway the elder Mrs. De Luca had over David, especially since the old lady still controlled much of La Familia De Luca’s inherited wealth and had already disinherited one grandson after he’d exhibited what she considered an unnatural interest in other young men. Not only would there turn out to be no proposal, but in less than a week Gina found herself back in her parents’ home out in the far end of Queens. A move that traded a two-stop commute with one that was not only an hour longer, but also required transferring to a city bus for the last third of it — a fact now uppermost in her mind, as it was doubtful that she would make it to the transfer point before the buses stopped running.

Not being able to afford Manhattan rents, many of the employees still at the office also lived in the outer boroughs, which put a number of them in the same quandary as Gina. The big difference, however, was that they had been here before and knew how to make the best of it.

They’d already made plans for an impromptu Snow Bash at Clancy’s Bar just down the street, said party starting a half hour after the close of business. Afterwards, they would all fall back to their various offices, where sleeping arrangements, and possible companionships thereof, might be worked out.

Gina had been invited to the Bash by several of her male co-workers, and even one of the other secretaries, but had declined all of their invitations. She’d been to a few of the regular deneme bonusu veren siteler Friday afternoon libations, and almost without fail they had ended with some tipsy idiot trying to talk his way into her pants. Not that she had a problem with guys trying to get her in bed, but lately it always seemed to be the wrong guys.

No, a better use of her time, she decided, was to stake out a claim on one of the couches in the employee break room. Twice, while working late, she’d had occasion to try and nap in an office chair, and knew that they were near impossible to get comfortable in. Not that the couch was much better, but at least she could stretch out.

As she turned away from the window, a flash of inspiration suddenly came to her. Early last month, Gina had run into David at a birthday party for a mutual friend. It had been the first time they’d seen each other since the engagement that wasn’t, but much to their mutual surprise it turned out not to be as awkward as one might have expected. In fact, if nothing else, it proved that the sexual spark between them was still there and they’d wound up back at David’s apartment.

Even as they stripped for bed, Gina hadn’t been under any illusion that their coming romp was going to lead to any sort of reconciliation. Still, she was willing to take it for what it was, a chance for a more satisfying orgasm than she was getting from the battery powered toy hidden in her night table. Not only had it not proven up to the job of late, she could only use it after her parents had gone to bed, and then only very quietly — which sort of defeated the point.

Stepping over to the desk she’d been working from, Gina dialed David’s number from memory. It rang almost a half dozen times and she was about to give up when an unfamiliar voice abruptly replaced the ring tone. To her dismay, it was the voice of another woman.

“Hello?” the voice, which sounded vaguely familiar. said, the salutation more a question than a greeting.

“Is David there?” Gina asked hesitantly, foregoing any pleasantries as she hoped she might have simply dialed the number wrong.

“Sure, hang on a moment,” the still unidentified woman said, her voice dimming as she lowered the receiver and said, “David honey, it’s for you.”

As a more recognizable voice came on the line, any hope that she had misdialed faded, as did the thought that she might have found more comfortable accommodations for the evening. Their conversation was cordial but brief, and left no doubt that not only was this not a good time to call, but it was highly doubtful that the future would hold a better one. Gina lied and simply said she was just calling to say hi, and wished him luck.

Holding the phone in her hand, Gina suddenly remembered where she had heard the woman’s voice before. It belonged to the new receptionist at Dawson, Davis and De Luca, a bleached blonde who had been sniffing around David almost from the day she was hired.

Gina had never thought of herself as an intellectual, but Brenda Bailey prided herself on never reading beyond the entertainment or gossip sections, and the next opinion she expressed on anything of import would be her first. She was, therefore, exactly the sort of wife material that Mama De Luca would undoubtedly approve of.

“I bet she even let him fuck her in the ass right out of the gate,” Gina snarked as she finally returned the receiver to its cradle.

-=-=-=–=-=-=-

Glancing at the clock on the wall, which had been moving agonizingly slowly, Gina saw only five minutes remained in the work day. Given that she’d only fielded two calls in as many hours, she had no expectation that she’d get another in the short time remaining. So, when the phone did ring, she almost jumped out of her seat.

Answering it on the third ring, Gina was greatly surprised to discover that the caller was Joan Hendricks. As hard as it might have been for someone who didn’t know her to believe, the big boobed bitch had the audacity to call and make sure that Gina hadn’t snuck out early. Of course, she didn’t actually say that, hiding the reason for calling behind a gratuitous thank you for having stayed — as if Gina had been given a choice.

Joan’s resentment of Gina, the latter believed, stemmed from an incident during the office Christmas party two months before. The party had been held in the restaurant that occupied the top two floors of the building and just about all the employees had gone up there as soon as the work day ended — Gina included. But then, about two hours later, she remembered that she had left a folder on her desk that was supposed to have been delivered to Mr. North’s office. Not wanting to get herself in trouble, Gina had left the party and went back downstairs to deliver it herself.

Reaching the name partner’s office, Gina put the folder on his secretary’s desk and was about to leave when she heard a loud sound from the inner office. At first, she didn’t know what fransız ruleti to make of it, but when she heard it a second time, there was no doubt that it was a man moaning. She was unsure what to do, but fearing that the sixty-two year old executive might be in distress, she opened the door and stepped inside — only to find that pain was the last thing he was in.

“Oh shit!” Gina gasped, her hand instinctively covering her mouth at the scene before her.

There, only a few feet in front of her, was Randolph North, sitting back in his cushioned leather chair, his eyes tightly closed and a broad smile on his face. Kneeling on the floor in front of him was Joan Hendricks, her dress and loosened bra down around her waist as she pressed her massive mounds around his cock as it slid in and out of her mouth. At least she did so until she heard the senior partner ask loudly if this was another part of his Christmas present.

Confused as to what he was talking about, Joan released her breasts, causing his cock to slip from her mouth, and turned in the direction Randolph was looking. Suddenly aware that there was someone standing there, Joan’s face turned, at first, pink with embarrassment, then bright crimson once she recognized who it was.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Joan thundered as, using the edge of the desk to brace herself, she stood up, causing her breasts to bounce wildly as she did.

“I … I was dropping off a folder and I heard…” Gina stammered, “I mean … I thought someone was in trouble.”

“Someone is about to be,” Joan said as she reached her full height, still unmindful that her breasts were hanging fully exposed.

“Just wait a moment, Joan my dear,” Randolph said, his manner reflecting that he found the situation more amusing than embarrassing, “let’s hear the girl out. He paused a long moment as she shifted his gaze from Joan to Gina and inquired what exactly she had meant by “in trouble.”

“I’m not sure,” Gina replied, glad for the diversion. “I thought that maybe you were having a heart attack or something.”

“See, Joan, the young lady was merely concerned about my health,” the older man laughed, unconcerned at having been found in flagrante delicto. “I think she should be commended, not berated.”

Joan, who had finally pulled up her dress to cover herself, didn’t contradict the partner’s declaration, but was clearly unhappy with it. Silently she promised herself that, one way or another, she’d make Gina pay for her embarrassment.

“Well, as you can see, I’m fit as a fiddle, Miss…” Randolph said, pausing when he couldn’t recall Gina’s name.

“Giordano, Mr. North,” she said for him. “Gina Giordano. I’ve only been with the company a few months.”

“Well, Gina Giordano,” he said, repeating her full name as if he wanted to be sure to remember it in the future, “as you can see, your concern was, while greatly appreciated, unnecessary.”

“I’m glad to see that,” Gina said, “and I apologize for interrupting…”

Now it was Gina’s turn to pause as she searched for the right word to describe what it was that she had interrupted.

“… your privacy,” she finally decided.

“Think nothing of it, my dear,” the older man said as he learned forward in his chair, giving himself a better look at his would-be rescuer, “as you said, it was with the best of intentions.”

“Perhaps I should just head back up to the party then,” Gina suggested, his forward shift making her more mindful that he still had his cock hanging out.

“I think that would be a good idea,” Randolph replied with a broad grin, adding, “but rest assured, I’ll be keeping my eye on you, young lady, a close eye. I see a bright future for you here at Casella and North.”

“Thank you, sir,” Gina said with a neutral smile, not sure if she should take that as a good or bad thing.

“Oh, and I trust I can count on your discretion about, well, about all of this?” he added, the inflection of his voice showing that it was as much a warning as a question.

“About what?” Gina smiled. “As far as I’m concerned, the office was empty when I dropped off the folder; after all, everyone was up at the party.”

“Good girl,” the partner said as he watched her turn and leave, his eyes fixed on the pleasing sway of what he’d call a perfect ass.

As the office door tightly closed behind her; Gina let out a long sigh of relief. She had been told that some of the office parties, especially the big Christmas celebration, were notorious for hookups among the staff, but this was something else. At the end, she had almost thought that Mr. North was going to ask her if she wanted to join in, as if you could imagine such a thing? She certainly couldn’t, she told herself before taking a long second breath and heading back to the party.

Joan Hendricks, on the other hand, had no problem imagining it. After all, that was how she had gotten to where she was today. It had only been five years mobil rulet ago that a young, bodacious secretary, willing to give head to get ahead, caught Randolph North’s attention. An invitation to his bed had soon followed.

As she returned to what Gina’s intrusion had interrupted, Joan looked up at Randolph’s smiling face and wondered if he might possibly be imagining the younger brunette in her stead. Every once in a while, some young thing would catch his wandering eye, and Joan would need to do something about it lest they give the older man any ideas. Although she had no way of knowing it, Gina had just moved to the top of Joan’s to do list.

The best course of action, Joan had found, was to make the girl so miserable at her job that she simply quit. Over time, she found that, especially with the dimmer ones, it didn’t take all that much. So that was how Gina came to be stuck answering the phones after nearly everyone else went home.

The memorandum that had given permission for most of the staff to leave early had also requested that department heads first ask for volunteers among those who lived in the city proper. That would, the memo said, allow some junior employees who might otherwise not make it home to do so. Joan had elected to disregard that provision, even though two secretaries, who lived literally within walking distance of the office, had previously offered to stay.

But Gina had no way of knowing that as she hung up the phone and, looking back up at the clock, noted that it was now definitely after five. She then dialed the sequence that would transfer any subsequent calls to the firm’s answering service. Why that couldn’t have been done a few hours ago she didn’t know and right now didn’t care. Finally, she put the cover over her typewriter and locked the drawers of her desk.

A slight rumble in her stomach reminded Gina that she hadn’t had anything to eat since before lunch, so the next order of business was to see what, if anything had been left in the break room’s refrigerator worth taking. Today being Friday, anything left after hours was fair game. If not, there were always the vending machines. Later on, she would make a few calls and see if any of the more affordable restaurants in the area were still open and making deliveries.

She was halfway to the break room when she remembered that she still had the telephone bill in her purse, having forgotten to mail it on her way in this morning. The mailroom crew was undoubtedly gone by now, but it would still be another half hour or so before the post office picked up the mailbags, plenty of time to drop off the payment. As long as it was postmarked today, they had to accept it as paid on time, no matter when it was finally delivered.

Walking down the long corridor that led to both the supply and mail rooms, Gina was surprised to see the lights from the latter still on. Then, as she got closer, she was even more surprised to hear the sound of letters being run through the postage metering machine. Evidently, there was at least one person still working down here.

“Fuck,” Gina said under her breath as a distasteful possibility occurred to her, “please let it not be Dennis.”

Dennis McCarthy was the mailroom manager. Thirty-five with short, dirty blonde hair, he had a muscular build and general good looks that most women found attractive. He also had, once you got to know him, a personality that marked him as a first-class asshole.

Last month, Gina had, regrettably, made the mistake of taking his charm at face value and accepted when he’d asked her out. If not the worst date of her life, it certainly ranked in the top five, and while pizza and a movie might charitably be called dinner and a show, it certainly didn’t justify Dennis’ expectation of a blow job at the end of the evening. A fact that Gina had pointed out to him in most unflattering terms, suggesting that if that was all he’d wanted, then perhaps he could’ve used the twenty dollars he’d splurged on the evening to rent the company of one of the whores that could be found over by the West Side Highway.

Dennis normally worked six to two, and could rarely be found on the premises five minutes after. So, the idea that she might run into him now hadn’t even occurred to her. Today, however, she had to admit, had been anything but normal, so anything was possible.

Stepping into the mailroom, Gina was relieved, and genuinely surprised, to discover that not only was it not Dennis operating the machine, it wasn’t any of the mailroom staff. Instead she found a tall, well-dressed woman running a stack of business sized envelopes through the machine.

Kellie Winters was thirty-eight years old and had been the personal secretary of Abraham Bernstein, the financial analyst who was one of the firm’s top money makers, for the last fifteen years. Five eight and a hundred and forty-five pounds, she wore her straight, rich black hair cut just above her neckline, framing a visage that barely reflected her age. Always dressed impeccably, her current ensemble consisted of a stylish light blue blouse coupled with a skirt and blazer of a darker hue. A full-figured woman, Kellie had a bust that men admired and women envied, both for its size and the fact that it consistently defined both age and gravity.

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Apartment- Short Erotic Stories

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APARTMENT 102

A downtown lake front apartment building built in the 1950’s- modern architecture and a sleek interior ‘noir art deco’ design. Doris lived in apartment 102. It was seven o’clock and the day was done. She entered her apartment and went right to the bedroom to change out of her business suit. It had been a long day for the 40-year-old mover and shaker, a long week in fact, and she was dying to relax.

She emerged, made her way to the refrigerator, poured herself a cold glass of water, added a fresh lemon wedge, and sat on the couch. Her cream silk robe edged up to her hips as she sat and the lace fringe at the bottom barely covered her upper thighs. “Who cares,” she thought, “no one is here, no one can see- it’s just me, myself and I- the three of us”- she chucked thinking how nice that was for a change.

What to do, TV, music, books, sleep??? She thought…. it had been a long stressful day… emergencies, meetings, inhaled lunch, work, work, work… She put on some music but now what? Read? No, did enough of that today. She closed her eyes, leaned back and sunk into the couch and rested. A few minutes went by and she knew what she needed…

Who to fantasize about? How the act would be performed? Story line? Position? Setting? Details, details, details, always complicating the joy of it all. She could never just spontaneously do it and let it play itself out to the end- in the end the details always took care of her but they could be so frustrating- always trying for the perfect fantasy and the perfect ending. She thought and her mind floated off….

She bent her leg, the one leaning against the back of the couch, exposing her. She ran her finger through her short and curlies and thought… Taken by a stranger on a one night stand? Seduced by authority? A public act? Domination or submission? Old fashion loving? Maybe like the curious but intimidated middle aged woman in that movie she saw the other night- consensually taken by four or five men in a public stairwell, all under the risk of being caught- that might be nice….

She envisioned herself sitting in a semi-reclined chair at the office, her lover kneeling before her looking at her privates. What next? A parting of the lips and a revelation? Maybe her lover would kiss and lick her moist sex and gently fondle her with a finger? After a short while she could push back and indicate she wanted a moment to herself, then with one hand part herself fully and with the other run the tip of her index finger from the top of her clit down one side of her lips to the bottom and then back up again, ever so gently running it along the moist edges… a precocious look down at her lover with pouty pursed wet deep red lips and eyes that said “you can go back there now” for more gentle licking and fingering… Two fingers and then a suckling on her clit. She could push her lover back again and run the tip of her index finger from the top of her clit down one side of her lips to the bottom and then back up again- ever so gently running it along the edges, two times then a third, gentle gasps and deep breaths- its was coming on, slowly… more licking and sucking and slowly inserted fingers by her lover and a thumb to massage her engorged clit….

How to finish? More of the same? A phallus? Oral satisfaction? Digital manipulation? Damn options! It was like a buzz kill! And the momentum was lost… She drifted off to sleep and dreamed these erotic dreams of her neighbors:

APARTMENT 205

The two stood up… “Well it was a wonderful night- thank you for having me over,” she said. Lauren replied, “It was my pleasure, I mean I have been talking about doing this for a while and the opportunity was just right for once- our schedules fell into place.” “Well it was terrific,” Anna replied, “The night air was perfectly cool and crisp- sitting on the porch just talking and having a wonderful conversation was great,” Anna said as she handed Lauren the almost finished glass of wine. They walked to the door of Lauren’s apartment.

Anna reached for the door knob and turned it, pulled open the door and turned to Lauren, “lets do this again- really soon.”

“How about next Friday?” Lauren asked.

“I think I am open. I will check and let you know,” Anna said as she stepped out and the door quietly closed behind her.

Then, a gentle knock at the door before Lauren could get a step away.

“I forgot my purse,” Anna sheepishly said as she stepped back in. She bent down and reached to the floor just inside the door where she had placed it when she first arrived. When she stood up her back was to the wall. Lauren stepped forward, “well, um, I guess this is good night,” and there was a moment of lingering silence between them.

Lauren leaned forward and kissed Anna on the left cheek and drew back. Lauren looked Anna right in the eyes to gage her reaction knowing she was forward. Really awkward silence. Lauren then stepped closer, their bodies brushing Cami Halısı lightly, and she softly kissed Anna’s beautiful full lips. Anna did not react. Then she looked down at the floor and said “I must go…” as she reached aside, turned the doorknob and slipped out….

APARTMENT 310

“Mike,” Leigh said, “I have given a lot of thought about what we discussed and how difficult it would be for me to do what you want me to do. I want to satisfy you, and, well, as a first step, I want to meet you half way.” He thought- ‘what was she willing to do?’

“It must be on my terms… I need to feel comfortable. I know that we are not a progressive couple, trying new and different things but the thought of sharing you with another woman in the same bed just does not sit well with me- it may never feel right- but I want to take the first step…” The words resonated- “first step”- and he silently rejoiced……….

“Here is the deal. Take off your clothes and sit on the edge of the bed- sit down here.” He heard her pat the edge of the bed to orient him. Then she covered his eyes with a blindfold. “I’m going to sit in the corner over here. I have a guest for you. It is someone you do not know and will never know- that is non-negotiable. You must keep the blindfold on at all times. Don’t worry, I know her and you do not- you never will. She is new to this too- we were talking one day and she expressed her desire and I did some thinking”- that’s my girl he thought- “and invited her over. You must never know her so I never feel threatened. I also want to have you wonder for the rest of your life who she was and what she looks like so you can forever fantasize about who she might have been but also so that you can never pursue her. You might meet her one day by coincidence, she will know and you never will. She is sworn to never acknowledge the existence of today and you can never disclose it to ANYONE. Do not do a thing with out being told to do it. No talking to her, no questions and you can only talk when spoken to, otherwise, it ends immediately, understand?”

“Of course,” he said, what else would he say?

Mike sat in silence. The woman entered and he could hear her walking across the carpet. “Very nice” she quietly said in a raspy voice as she observed his physique, “stand up, turn around and face the bed.”

He heard her climb onto the bed and kneel before him. She took his sex in her hand and began to stroke him, “Very nice,” she said as she smirked and looked at Leigh, boosting Mike’s ego with the comment. A few moments later as she caressed him he heard her shift positions and took him in her mouth.

His mind raced. He had not touched her yet and all he knew was voice, her hand and now her mouth. Leigh was right, his mind did race… What did she look like? Her smell? She bobbed his head in her mouth, up and down in a teasing manner and then she caressed his balls, gently at first, then harder with the palm of her hand. Then she stopped and applied ice and his sex went limp.

“Sit down on the edge of the bed and slide back until the backs of your knees touch the bed,” she instructed.

He could not place her voice- it was not even familiar. She straddled him, her knees along the outside of his legs… “Open your mouth” and she inserted her nipple, “go ahead, taste it.”

He wanted to ask if he could caress her whole body, to assess her, know her but he dare not and kept the palms of his hands flat on the bed so nobody could find an excuse to end the moment.

“Here, now this one” and she gave him the other one, “like it?”

He muttered an ‘uh huh’ with complete occupation. They were small and pert and from the angles at which he was craning his neck, she herself was short and petite. How old?

“That is enough of that my dear,” she coyly said.

She stood up on the bed and looked down on him, grabbed the back of his head and pushed his face into her sex, “go ahead, don’t be shy, you can have it…. oh, you need balance, give me those hands,” and she placed them on her buttocks- they were small and tight, that of a younger woman. Her sex was trimmed, a ‘crew cut’ at the top and freshly shaven smooth and bare at the underside, and it smelled so nice- freshly perfumed. She obviously planned for this event- her ‘coming out party’. Her sex was already wet by the time she gave it to him. He wondered if she had been playing with herself while playing with him. Maybe Leigh had been playing with her? No, that was not her way…..

He ate her and she began to breath harder. “Hold me tight, grab my ass and part it,” she directed as she arched her back. She held the back of his head for balance by a fist full of hair and her thought the pain was gong to cause him to wince. She ground her sex into his mouth as if she could not get enough of him.

He decided to tempt fate. He slid a finger close to her ass and began to toy with it, edge it in- it could be explained away as an Cami Halıları accident if need be.

“Yes, deeper” she moaned. Then he tempted fate again and with the other finger he slipped it underneath and into her sex- she sighed.

“Oh I want you so bad you naughty man” and she pushed back his head, squat down over him, reached for his cock and glided it between her lips and began to ride him.

He was ready to fuck and just could not wait to take her. She was very tight and he was a bit large for her- but not so overbearing that she would feel like she was being split open. The combination always makes for great sex he thought. She rode him slowly and then sped up as she got closer.

She began to beg, “please fuck me, take me now, roll me on my back and take me”.

With that he obliged and began to take her like a stud bull in heat- her legs up in the air and wrapped around him as best she could reach, her hands plastered to his ass holding on for dear life.

“Oh yes” she screamed, “fuck me, take me now, pump me full of your heat, please now, please, please, fuck me,” and he did, arching his back, pushing down on her hips and pinning her like his prey and pumping all he had into her, as she shuttered and came…..

Moments later he came to his senses. It was quiet. He rolled off of her. “That was great. Thank you Mike” she said.

She stood up, leaned over the bed, took his sex in her mouth, cleaned him and then she walked off.

He heard her say, “Leigh, thank you for letting me do this with your husband. It really turned me on- well I guess I did not need to tell you that- you saw it all…. By the way, could I ask you for one more favor?….please, taste me… see what it is like to taste your husband and another woman, to touch a woman…I myself do not know- we can both have a first tonight if you would like… go ahead, just a small taste, please, for me….” Mike listened, Leigh thought about it……

APARTMENT 402

Addie knelt, ass up in the air, on the floor in the middle of her empty living room in front of the fireplace, waiting. It was dark out and the silence seemed to last so long- it was getting intolerable. Then she heard the dead bolt turn. Mistress was the only person in the world who had the key. She put her head down and waited like a good submissive. Silence- Mistress must be undressing. She heard Mistress’ high heels as she crossed the hardwood floor. She always yearned to look at Mistress from the corner of her eye as she approached.

Addie had come to Mistress seeking liberation from her inhibitions, sexual ones which tortured her soul. Mistress never physically disciplined her, it was always a mind game. Addie preferred it that way. Mistress was helping her through depravation and reward. As their relationship evolved, Addie was being shown a world she never expected to know and a person she never believe she would want… “Addison,” Mistress acknowledged. She always initially acknowledged her by her formal name- it was a ritual. She could see Mistress’ shoes- black patent leather high heels with a little toe cleavage, little silver chains draped across the heel of the foot, silver spike heels and those seductive black stockings… what Addie would do to have her…. she dreamed of this moment everyday. Obsessive and addicted she was. She just wanted Mistress to sit down before her, part her legs and let her kiss Mistress’ feet, knees, inner thighs and more….

Mistress said, “Poor Addie- when will it end? You are so tortured. And I, I only inflict more pain on you the more I deny you. Your lust burns hotter the more I distance myself from you. You do understand- it is what I mandate. You must accept it if we are to continue.”

“Addie, tell me, why do you continue calling me?”

Addie replied, “I crave that which I cannot have Mistress.”

“And what its it that you cannot have?” she asked Addie.

“You – to know you,” Addie retorted.

Mistress said, “and if you could have me, what would you do with me?” Addie was silent. Before Addie could express herself Mistress interrupted, “Well that may never be Addie.”

“Mistress, I have never touched you, tasted you, known you. I need to know you,” she begged speaking out of turn without permission.

Addie was getting bold with Mistress. Mistress knew she needed to reign Addie in but also reward her for her patience, lest she loose her.

“Addie, I have something for you,” Mistress said as she stepped behind the kneeling Addie. Mistress indicted Addie should kneel upright. A gold herringbone chain was placed around her waist and clasped shut. It was thin and delicate and snaked across the curves of her body.

“Lean back and expose your sex to me,” Mistress instructed.

Addie complied, spreading her lips. Mistress then took out another chain, which was clasped on the chain around her waist at one end and to the other end was tethered a quarter sized pearl. Mistress inserted the pearl between Addie’s sex lips. Just the touch of Mistress’s finger grazing across Addie’s sex sent strong erotic waves through Addie.

Mistress continued, “You are to wear this forever. When you make love, when you walk down the street, when you go to work, whatever you do, wear it. It shall be a constant reminder of me. I will always be there to enjoy your pleasures with you- my dear it is just tight enough to gently tug at you when you move. Hold it dearly between your precious lips. Wear it well. Now for a surprise. Kneel again.”

Mistress stepped behind Addie and placed a collar around her neck and fastened a leash to it at the front. She told Addie to stand up led her to the marble fireplace mantle. There was a big mirror over the mantle. Mistress told Addie to kneel down. Mistress walked to the other end of the room, dimmed the sconces, which book ended the mirror, and turned off the chandelier. She wanted the room darker, to inhibit vision. Mistress picked up the leash and ran it beneath her legs. She faced the mantle and placed her hands on it, her back to Addie. She tugged on the leash.

“Tonight you get some satisfaction, but with conditions- you will owe me a favor,” she said and she proceeded to tell Addie what she wanted in return.

“Will you do it?” Mistress asked.

“Yes,” Addie replied.

Mistress stood, her legs parted, drew the leash shorter and commanded, “Move closed and look up. Do not use your hands. Kiss the inside of my thighs Addie- go ahead. Smell my sex if you would like, you can even kiss it, but don’t part its lips.”

Addie’s face was a wisp of air from Mistress’ sex. She did what Mistress commanded, kissing her inner thighs, gentle kisses of worship around the tops of Mistress’ stockings and along the garters, she smelled Mistress’ sex, kissed Mistress’ sex, gently nuzzled it with her chin and nose, kissed it in the middle then around the fringes of Mistress’ pubic hair.

“Addie stop,” Mistress commanded. Mistress arched her back more, stuck out her ass, braced herself with one hand against the mantle place, reached underneath and parted her lips with two fingers, “Addie do you see my sex? Tonight, it is for you. Make love to it Addie…”

APARTMENT 402- Revisited

Mistress would be returning soon. She promised Addie that it would be good for her. She always made that promise and always held her end of the bargain.

Addie adorned herself as directed. She drew the black stockings up her legs, attached them to the garter belt, put on the requisite stiletto heels and perfumed her sex and breasts. Five minutes until she arrived. Addie pulled back her blond hair and put it up. She painted her lips the requisite fire engine red. Addie placed the ottoman in the middle of the room before the fireplace. Lights dimmed and the room fell silent. She leaned forward, draping her torso across the furniture piece. Her sex exposed, spread and vulnerable.

Minutes passed and suddenly a key was inserted into the lock and the door opened. She heard people walking across the wood floor. Led by Mistress they streamed in and lined up along the wall behind her. Exactly how many she did not know- eight she thought. All she knew is what few facts Mistress had told her- that they were couples of men and women seeking pleasure. She was forbidden from speaking and touching them. They would never know her identity. Tonight, Addie was their object. She was about to give herself over to them, just Mistress as asked.

Mistress walked over to her and knelt at her side. She gazed at Addie and smiled approvingly. On cue, the men lined up before Mistress. Mistress undid the first one’s his pants, drew down his underpants, placed his sex between her deep red lips and performed fellatio, pleasuring his sex until he was stiff. She then guided him to Addie and inserted his sex in hers. He then took her without remorse until he spilled his seed in satisfaction and withdrew. While he took her, Mistress began pleasuring the next in line. Each man was different in the way he took her- some were slow and methodical extending the moment as long as they could, others were quick and pillaged her sex. Regardless, each time a new cock was inserted and she was take, Addie felt the dangling pearl and though of Mistress and it swayed and tapped her thigh.

The women quietly watched as each man was pleasured by Mistress and then had his way with Addie, one after the other, after the other.

She wondered when, how and if the women would get their turn. Why were they there? Was it to heighten their arousal for their companion? To instill jealousy or insecurity that their companion might prefer a younger woman after taking Addie? Maybe to teach them what their lover preferred? Maybe it was a game or a dare?

“Come on Slut, let me hear you,” one said to her.

Mistress looked up at him and growled, “I am warning you- no talking, that is the rule. And, treat her with respect.”

He continued taking Addie and then raised his hand and slapped her ass, like she was some cheap Tart. She instantly jumped and winced with pain. He was an unruly rogue.

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