Secretarial Duties
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Secretarial Duties 2 - Party With The Boss free porn video
“Mr. Krushank, you wanted to see me in your office?” Patricia smiled as she said it, knowing that it was she giving the order.
“Er, yes, Patricia. You don't mind me taking you away from the party, do you?” Krushank covered his surprise nicely. He stepped away for the group of employees with whom he had been talking, taking his drink with him.
“No, Mr. Krushank. I'm sure the party will survive without us for a bit.” Patricia smiled demurely at her willing accomplice.
Patricia led the way to Krushank's office, then deferred for Krushank to open the door for her. She stepped in, then quickly twirled around to grab his belt, pulling him close enough to kiss as he closed the door.
“Mmmm. Be patient. Let me lock the door, please.” Krushank quickly secured the door, then started fumbling with his belt.
“What's the matter, big boy? Too excited?” Patricia laughed and expertly unfastened the catch and unzipped his pants. She dropped to her knees as she pulled his rapidly stiffening cock out. She first licked it from balls to tip, a slow, wet, long lick. Then she proceeded to take the hard shaft into her mouth, sliding her lips down, making a moaning sound, as if her pleasure increased the deeper the cock penetrated her throat. Her fingers teased his testicles, then one hand slipped behind his buttocks and she massaged his anus. He was too tight and dry to slip her finger into him, but she placed one digit firmly on his puckered little hole and sucked his cock for all she was worth, moving her head up and down with increasing speed.
“Oh, god, Patricia, don't make me cum so fast! Oh, god! So good!” Krushank's knees were flexed, nearly giving out from the intensity of her attack.
“Mmmmm.” Patricia moaned again, taking him balls deep into her mouth. Ordinarily, she liked to take her time, let Barry pleasure her. But tonight, for reasons she didn't completely understand, she wanted to make him cum as hard and as quickly as she could. She wanted to feel his cock throb in her mouth, feel his cum pump into her mouth, hear him groan, control him completely.
“Uhnnnn!” She smiled, although his cock was big enough that only the corners of her mouth moved up. Barry always made an inarticulate sound. His cum was thick, bitter and copious. She swallowed and gently sucked further, very, very gently. Barry gasped and grabbed her head.
“Oh god! Shit! Oh, too intense!” He tried to hold her head, keep her from sucking further.
Patricia released him and laughed gently. Then ran her tongue along his shrinking shaft one last time from balls to tip. “You have such a nice cock, Barry. Don't you go fucking any of those office skanks tonight. I don't want to share your cock. Remember that, baby. Bill's away tonight. We can stay together here, or at your place. I want you to fuck my brains out tonight, baby. You're all mine and don't you forget it.” She gently kissed the tip of his cock, first greedily sucking off the last drop of cum. Her left hand gently stroked her own pussy, which she was surprised to find was quite wet. Controlling him like this, controlling his orgasm, aroused her more than she realized.
“Oh, god! That was amazing!” Barry was still breathing hard, trying to wrap his mind around what had transpired. “Oh, god! You are so fucking good!” He pulled himself together.
Patricia checked her make-up in her compact, refreshing the lipstick she had left on Krushank's cock. “Let's get back to the party. Don't want to cause any rumors. Fix your shirt, Barry. Ready?”
As she opened the door, she turned to him, saying, “I can have that information ready by Monday, Mr. Krushank. I can have your secretary set up a 9:30 appointment so we can go over it together, if you'd like.”
“Yes, Patricia, that would be good. Thanks for letting me interrupt your party.” Barry sounded appropriately professional, a manager telling one of his minions what needed to be done.
Patricia smiled to herself. Barry had been her lover for several months now. While their relationship didn't exactly follow a strict BDSM model, Barry did tend to be submissive, servicing Patricia's whims. True, he got his fair share of release. After all, that was the point of their relationship.
It started one night when Barry d**gged her. While that sounds like a recipe for disaster, it worked well for them. Patricia had been feeling the need for release, felt a certain attraction to Barry's power, and didn't know how to deal with the situation. Barry's heavy-handed almost-**** had actually initiated their affair. Patricia had taken control almost from the start. She didn't often get the chance to spend the night with Barry, but the two of them frequently “worked” weekends together. Still, this was going to be special.
Their affair started when Patricia's husband, Bill, had been laid off. That had altered the dynamics of their relationship, making Patricia the breadwinner, the dominant. But at the same time, Bill had gotten depressed, started drinking, become withdrawn. Barry had been the perfect diversion. He was bigger than Bill, had more endurance, and was more creative. She quickly came to enjoy having him as a lover. And, to her surprise, getting fucked regularly made her want to fuck even more regularly. Fortunately, Bill had found a new job. While it required travel, it rebuilt his confidence and recharged his sex drive. Between the two men, Patricia was enjoying herself these days.
Patricia stopped in the ladies' room. A quick rinse with mouthwash was in order. And perhaps a little more attention to her make-up. Patricia was smiling, thinking about later, alone with Barry. She had a new La Perla ensemble on beneath her blouse and short skirt. A black demi-bra, with a matching six-strap garter belt holding up her shiny, sheer Wolford stockings, and teenie-tiny g-string. She was wearing a nice pair of sensible black heels now, but there was a pair of 6-inch black patent Louboutins in the bottom drawer of her desk, alongside a purple suede flogger, a pair of hand cuffs and a Wartenberg wheel. She was really looking forward to a night together.
As Patricia stepped out of the restroom, she nearly bumped into Mitch Johnson, Barry's superior's superior. “Ah, hello, Mr. Johnson. Nice to see you.”
“Hello, Patricia. I want to have a word with you. Would you come to my office, please?” That was odd. Mr. Johnson rarely exchanged more than mere pleasantries with Patricia. Actually, come to think of it, this was very odd.
“Certainly, Mr. Johnson.”
They walked together in silence, excepting the click of Patricia's heels on the marble. Mr. Johnson's office was two floors up; the elevator ride was likewise silent, a bit awkward.
Unlike Barry, Mr. Johnson did not hold the door for her. She was too low on the ladder to warrant such consideration. Entering the office, she was surprised to see Royce Reynolds, the VP for finance, and two men she didn't recognize already present. She noted that they were holding drinks, and that Mr. Johnson's private bar was open.
“Watch the monitor, Patricia.” Mr. Johnson walked over to his desk and typed something.
The wall-mounted display flickered to life. Patricia's eyes widened as she watched herself sucking Barry's cock, replaying their encounter. From the angle, it appeared to taken by a camera about desk-level.
“Patricia, I know about your affair with Krushank. You and I know that's grounds for termination. But firing you would be a terrible waste. You're a productive employee. And you're a damned sexy woman. I think you're smart enough to negotiate a mutually satisfying arrangement.”
Patricia contained her surprise, and quietly surveyed the room. Johnson, the company's rapidly rising star, was maybe forty-five, reasonably good looking, and in good shape. Supposedly he was an avid tennis player. Certainly, he was trimmer than most of the office men. Reynolds was probably in his late fifties, had a bit of a spare tire, but was well-groomed and wore very expensive-looking clothing. Of the other two men, one was watching her with intense interest, leering at her and periodically licking his thick lips. Appearing to be about sixty, he was a big man, overweight, heavy-boned, sweating, the collar of his expensive shirt unbuttoned, and his silk tie loosely knotted. Altogether an unkempt, almost slovenly appearance. The last man was perhaps fifty-five, rather thin, almost severe. Calm, he also watched with interest, but clearly dispassionately as if constantly taking her measure, assessing her strengths, judging her weaknesses. Somehow, he made her think of an undertaker.
Still silent, Patricia realized she was feeling a familiar tingle in her groin. She was caught, powerless except to the extent that she could manipulate these men to her will. The tingling became a warm flush, and she could feel herself getting wet. She lowered her head, not out of deference although the motion gave that impression, but rather to hide the sly smile she couldn't contain. This was possibly going to be more exciting than the evening with Barry she had planned.
Mr. Johnson came close to her and took her chin in his hand. He was at least six inches above her own five-six. He forced her face up. “So, what's it going to be, Patricia?”
Patricia gazed at him and wordlessly reached up to unbutton her blouse. She took her time, acutely aware that now three of the men were watching her with rapt attention. Only Undertaker showed no change in attitude. “I do this tonight, and?” The inflection in her voice conveyed the meaning of her question.
“You're in no position to barter, Patricia.” Mr. Johnson looked at her expectantly.
She finished unbuttoning the blouse, and shrugged it off, catching it as it fell and putting it neatly on the back of a near-by chair. She purposely took pains to gracefully display herself to them. Adroitly, she reached behind herself to unzip her skirt, taking advantage of the opportunity to show her toned abs.
The large man gave a wolf-whistle as her skirt dropped to the floor. She felt satisfaction, but this time refrained from smiling. She stepped out of the skirt, knelt to get it, and placed it beside the blouse.
“She's gorgeous!” Again, Large Man was more demonstrative than the rest. Patricia again intentionally displayed herself for her appreciative audience. Turning her back to them, she reached up to unhook her bra, only to have Mr. Johnson do the job himself. A little annoyed to have her plans altered, Patricia shrugged off the bra, exposing her firm breasts and perk nipples. She realized she was breathing hard again, scarcely able to contain her excitement.
Mr. Johnson put his hands on her shoulders and turned her to the men. “Don't be shy, Patricia. We're going to all get to know one another quite well tonight. No point in hiding.” His hands moved to her breasts, massaging them firmly, causing her to tip her head back and close her eyes in pleasure.
“I love how the black lace contrasts with that lovely golden skin of yours. Tell me, Patricia, are you as smooth as that tiny little g-string suggests? Let's find out, shall we?” He hooked his fingers through the tiny strap and then, picking up scissors from his desk, cut it. Patricia spread her legs ever so slightly and the bottom fell to the floor. “Oh, look at that! What a lovely, lovely pussy, Patricia! Oh, and what's this? Moisture? Are you excited, Patricia? What a naughty little slut! I knew you were a tramp, but I never suspected this. Very nice, Patricia. I think we're all going to have a very good time, Patricia.”
The three seated men were moving closer. Large Man was awkwardly removing his pants, having already dropped his jacket. The other two made no effort to disrobe.
“Come here, cunt.” Johnson pulled her to the leather sofa and forced her over the arm, so she rested on her elbows, ass outwards.
“If only I had my Louboutins on,” Patricia thought to herself. “My legs look so good in high heels.” She smiled as she heard the zipper on Johnson's pants, felt his hand fumbling at her pussy. He grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled sharply, forcing her head back. Then, she felt his hard cock pushing into her cunt. She couldn't help releasing a loud gasp.
“Yeah, cunt, you like that, don't you! Oh, god, so tight! Krushank must be a real needle-dick! Christ, your cunt is so smooth, so wet, and so very, very tight!” Johnson began very deliberate, very deep thrusts. “Mmmmm...yes...so slippery, you little slut. You love this, don't you!” He leaned forward and bit not too gently on her shoulder.
Johnson's cock was larger than Krushank's and Patricia was totally absorbed in the incredible sensation of this hot, hard cock pushing into her and pulling almost completely out. She realized the “Uhn...uhn...uhn” sounds were hers, each thrust evoking her mindless, satisfied sound. She was pushing her butt back against him, matching his rhythm perfectly, maximizing the intensity of his thrusting. She felt a smooth but firm cock pushing against her lips and realized that Large Man was kneeling on the couch, expecting her to suck his cock. She eagerly obliged him.
His cock was not even as long as Bill's, but it was the thickest Patricia had ever experienced. She could scarcely get her lips around it. Patricia felt an orgasm building, probably due to the excitement of the situation as much as to the actual stimulation she was experiencing. She sucked hard, not particularly to please Large Man, but simply because she was responding to Johnson's pounding.
“Mmmm...Mmmm...Mmmm.” Mouth filled with cock, Patricia's orgasm was accompanied by only inarticulate sounds. Her hands gripped Large Man's waist firmly.
“Oh, god, she's squirting! I'm going to cum!” Johnson called out, and pulled Patricia's hips hard, forcing his cock even deeper into her pussy.
Patricia was only dimly aware of Johnson's cock throbbing inside her because she was busy swallowing the copious amounts of cum Large Man was spewing into her mouth. She did her best to take it all, and only a few strands leaked, forming long, thin drips from her lovely lips. Patricia wiped one with her fingers and transferred it to her left nipple, where she gently rubbed it onto her rock-hard little tit.
Large Man slowly moved from the couch, and Patricia dimly realized that Reynolds was taking his place. Reynolds unzipped, and guided Patricia's free hand into his crotch, where she discovered his quickly hardening long, thin snake. Within seconds, the member had pushed out and was within reach of her mouth.
Patricia leaned forward as far as she could, aided by hands pushing down on her back. Even as she managed to take Reynolds' cock into her hot, hungry mouth, she felt an odd, cold, wetness on her asshole. This was followed by a firm, insistent force stretching her delicate anus. She had been fingered before, but aside from two attempts with Bill, she had never given her ass for fucking.
The cock did not seem as long or thick as she expected. In her pussy, Johnson was certainly bigger than Bill. Yet now, she could feel her butt stretching to accommodate this visitor. She felt pain, but also fullness, intensity, and satisfaction. Again, she pushed back against the force and felt herself even more deeply penetrated. She felt Mr. Johnson reach around her hips and gently rub her pussy.
“Nice ass, slut.” The person she had assumed was Mr. Johnson hissed in her ear, and she was pretty sure that it was NOT Mr. Johnson, that Undertaker was fucking her. She was being fucked in the ass by a complete stranger! And at the same time she was sucking the cock of the vice president of finance! And she was rapidly approaching another orgasm! Patricia let her head ride up and down the shaft in her mouth. She could feel it stiffen, hear his stertorous breathing. Lubricated with her saliva, her pursed lips moved up and down more easily now. Mr. Reynolds was lying back, his hands riding on her head, not attempting to control her motion, merely playing with her hair and enjoying the sensation.
Patricia felt hands pulling at her, pulling her away from Reynolds' delightful cock, pulling her onto the couch atop him. Almost without realizing it, she was guided down onto Reynolds' shaft, which filled her pussy as fully as moments earlier it had filled her mouth. She gasped aloud as her weight pushed her completely onto him.
“Oh, yes. Yes, fuck me.” Patricia began riding Reynolds' cock, shifting her weight and even raising and lowering her hips. “Oh...so big...I love it...yes.” Patricia was close to loosing control. This was a far better fucking than Bill had ever managed, or even Barry. And there was no indication of it ending. Patricia ran her hands over her breasts and tweaked her hard little nipples. The additional stimulation was enough to bring her orgasm fully. She arched her back and cried aloud, humping furiously. After she crested, she began rising and settling deliberately, at first slowly but her pace increased. She had her arms down, holding Reynolds' shoulders, her head down, eyes closed, entirely focused on the sensation of that long, hard cock inside her.
Hands on her shoulders followed by a man's weight pushed her down, almost kneeling on the man beneath her. Unexpectedly she felt fingers applying the same cold wetness to her ass, followed quickly by the same hard, thin cock being forced into her ass. Patricia's eyes widened and she again gasped. She was being stretched beyond anything she had previously experienced.
Undertaker let his weight push her back until Patricia's belly was pressed against Reynolds'. She was no longer able to move easily, but even the small motions Reynolds made generated such intense sensations that Patricia felt herself quickly cresting toward yet another orgasm.
Seeing Patricia's double penetration was evidently a powerful stimulus because Johnson and Large Man again sported erections, although Johnson's was clearly the harder of the two. Johnson carefully stepped up to the couch, bringing his cock close to her mouth, and was rewarded by having Patricia slurp his swollen member into her mouth.
Eyes again closed, her hands teased her nipples. Patricia was again pushing her ass back in contrapuntal rhythm to Undertaker's thrusts. “Oh god! I feel you rubbing against each other! Oh...so good. Gently! Please, not too deep! Oh yes...like that! Yes...yes...unnnnnnh!”
“You little slut! You love being fucked, don't you!” Mr. Johnson had pulled his cock from her mouth and was stroking himself vigorously. “I should have invited the entire upper management staff. You'd like that, wouldn't you, slut! Think about it, Patricia...fucked by 18 horny guys until they're drained. Think about it...cocks continuously probably a whole day of hard, slippery cock.”
The image set Patricia off again. She tensed and again arched her back – although not so far this time because Undertaker restricted her motion. She felt hot juice strike her face...Johnson's ejaculate.
Large Man had been watching and masturbating. His thick cock was almost purple with pent-up blood, and the veins bulged prominently. The man's face was red and his visible skin glistened with sweat. He showed no interest in fucking her further, but was fascinated by the cum dripping off her face. Patricia's face was only a foot or so from his; she could beads of perspiration on his forehead, the enlarged pores on his nose.
The sensations of the double penetration were again overwhelming Patricia's senses. Reynolds and Undertaker had synchronized their movements; and the result was so intense Patricia was unable to do more than let the waves wash over her. Her eyes were open, but what she saw didn't register. The only thing running through her brain was the sensation, the movement towards orgasm.
Suddenly, Patricia's reverie was broken by a sharp smack on her ass. Then another. Undertaker had pushed into her deeply, and was slapping her butt cheek. Patricia turned her head to see him, not so much out of curiosity as to signal assent. Another smack. Harder. Undertaker was glaring at her, his face twisted and cruel. Another smack. He had stopped thrusting and was devoting his energies entirely to slapping now. Both cocks were still hard inside her and the slapping served to give a very pleasurable stimulation. Patricia moved a bit to give Undertaker better access to her pussy.
Undertaker noticed her shift and took advantage of it to strike harder.
“Smack!” Patricia jumped a bit, causing Undertaker's cock to partially slide from her ass. She whimpered a little, but didn't try to stop him.
“Smack!”
Patricia buried her face in Reynolds' chest. “Uhnnn. Oh, please...”
“Smack!” Louder this time.
“Goddamn, Smith. She's creaming...her pussy's creaming. The bitch loves this.” Reynolds' cock exploded.
“Smack!”
The sensations – cocks in her pussy and ass, cum on her face, Large Man masturbating inches away, and those painfully delightful slaps – together pushed Patricia over the edge. She screamed. Patricia was orgasming. Totally oblivious to her surroundings, she grabbed her breasts and squeezed them hard, kneading her nipples. The intensity subsided after a minute. Reynolds pushed himself out from under her, turning her onto her back as he did.
Patricia realized Johnson was approaching, with something long, white, and skinny in his hand. It had a cord dangling off one end. She felt a hand on either shoulder, pulling her backwards and pushing her onto her back on the couch. She heard a hum and felt something vibrate against her pussy. The effect was electrifying! After so much fucking, her clit was hypersensitive.
Patricia writhed on the couch as best she could, but her shoulders and ankles were being held. She looked up into Large Man's leering face. It was his hammy pawns holding her shoulders.
“Just give up, cunt. We're going to fuck you senseless.” He was practically drooling.
The relentless throbbing at her pussy couldn't be ignored. Patricia jerked violently, another orgasm absorbing her. That was the last thing she remembered clearly.
She remembered swallowing lots of loads, and cocks in her ass, her pussy, her mouth, her hands, everywhere. She wasn't sure how many different men there were – it might have been the four, it might have been twenty or more. She had a vague recollection of men cheering as Large Man forced his thick cock into her ass. She was pretty sure she had licked him clean afterwards, too. She remembered other things, but they weren't at all clear.
When she regained her senses, she was on the couch. Her butt was sore, her asshole was sore, her thighs were sore, her jaw was sore. She was exhausted. There was dried jism on her belly, on her breasts and chest, and on the upper parts of her stockings. She was pretty sure that her face was covered, too. One stocking had a run from her toe to her knee. She could feel a slimy discharge in her crotch. She couldn't see her shoes. Her bra, blouse, and skirt were neatly folded on the back of the chair where she deposited them.
The door opened and Mr. Johnson walked in, carrying some towels.
“Good. You've come 'round. Here, clean up. There's a mirror on the back of my lavatory door.” He helped her stand, then gave her the towels.
Gingerly, Patricia walked to Mr. Johnson's private restroom. Her knees were shaky and her butt hurt. The slimy discharge started oozing down her legs, too. Not a pleasant sensation. Overall, though, she felt surprisingly good. Sweaty, slimy, and sore, but good. She looked in the mirror, debated, and decided that a shower was probably in order. She turned on the water, and removed her garter and the ruined stockings.
Mr. Johnson walked in without hesitation and put his hands on her waist, pulling her ass against his crotch. “Mmmmm. Nice ass. And you use it so nicely.”
She stood, now completely naked except for the dried jism, and faced him defiantly. “Yes, I do. Now are you going to let me shower, or do you want to fuck again?” Her bluff wasn't quite as effective as she'd hoped because she was trembling and wobbly.
“Not today, Patricia. I'm satisfied for now.” Mr. Johnson behaved as if he didn't even sense her attitude, as if he knew she was going to do whatever he wished. “You did very well.
“I'm afraid the party's pretty much over. It's 4:30 in the morning. Krushank got very drunk when he couldn't find you. I think he went home. Alone.
“I'm going to call you a cab and you can go home and get some sleep. Recover. We'll talk on Monday.” With that, he left her alone, closing the door behind him.
Patricia showered, discovering that her pussy was as sore as her ass. Her pussy lips were swollen and pink, too. Still, it felt nice when she gently stroked herself.
It had been an interesting evening. More interesting than the evening she'd planned with Barry. She stroked herself again, water running down her body. Her nipples were hard and she realized she was feeling a bit excited. Better shower and get going. She didn't need to get distracted right now.
She toweled herself dry and tossed the stockings in the trash. Without the stockings, the garter belt was pointless, so she didn't bother. She ran a comb through her hair.
She strode into the main office completely naked. Not looking up, Mr. Johnson was seated at his desk. “Your purse and shoes are on the chair with your clothes.”
Turned towards Johnson, Patricia put on the bra, then pulled her skirt on. She sat to strap on the shoes, making a point of flashing her bare pussy Johnson's way.
“I need to fix my make-up, then I'll take that cab.”
Mr. Johnson nodded. “Take your time. It'll be waiting.”
Patricia returned to the lavatory and carefully applied some powder, blush, mascara and lipstick. She turned to leave and almost collided with Johnson.
“Patricia, you were very, very good. Too good to give up, actually.” He stroked her shoulder with one hand. “I can be a very helpful friend if you let me, Patricia.”
Patricia turned to face him, and tilted her head, as if trying to see him in a different perspective. “I think I'd like that. I'd like that very much. But I won't do anything that would hurt my husband.”
“I think this is the beginning of a very interesting relationship.”
“Er, yes, Patricia. You don't mind me taking you away from the party, do you?” Krushank covered his surprise nicely. He stepped away for the group of employees with whom he had been talking, taking his drink with him.
“No, Mr. Krushank. I'm sure the party will survive without us for a bit.” Patricia smiled demurely at her willing accomplice.
Patricia led the way to Krushank's office, then deferred for Krushank to open the door for her. She stepped in, then quickly twirled around to grab his belt, pulling him close enough to kiss as he closed the door.
“Mmmm. Be patient. Let me lock the door, please.” Krushank quickly secured the door, then started fumbling with his belt.
“What's the matter, big boy? Too excited?” Patricia laughed and expertly unfastened the catch and unzipped his pants. She dropped to her knees as she pulled his rapidly stiffening cock out. She first licked it from balls to tip, a slow, wet, long lick. Then she proceeded to take the hard shaft into her mouth, sliding her lips down, making a moaning sound, as if her pleasure increased the deeper the cock penetrated her throat. Her fingers teased his testicles, then one hand slipped behind his buttocks and she massaged his anus. He was too tight and dry to slip her finger into him, but she placed one digit firmly on his puckered little hole and sucked his cock for all she was worth, moving her head up and down with increasing speed.
“Oh, god, Patricia, don't make me cum so fast! Oh, god! So good!” Krushank's knees were flexed, nearly giving out from the intensity of her attack.
“Mmmmm.” Patricia moaned again, taking him balls deep into her mouth. Ordinarily, she liked to take her time, let Barry pleasure her. But tonight, for reasons she didn't completely understand, she wanted to make him cum as hard and as quickly as she could. She wanted to feel his cock throb in her mouth, feel his cum pump into her mouth, hear him groan, control him completely.
“Uhnnnn!” She smiled, although his cock was big enough that only the corners of her mouth moved up. Barry always made an inarticulate sound. His cum was thick, bitter and copious. She swallowed and gently sucked further, very, very gently. Barry gasped and grabbed her head.
“Oh god! Shit! Oh, too intense!” He tried to hold her head, keep her from sucking further.
Patricia released him and laughed gently. Then ran her tongue along his shrinking shaft one last time from balls to tip. “You have such a nice cock, Barry. Don't you go fucking any of those office skanks tonight. I don't want to share your cock. Remember that, baby. Bill's away tonight. We can stay together here, or at your place. I want you to fuck my brains out tonight, baby. You're all mine and don't you forget it.” She gently kissed the tip of his cock, first greedily sucking off the last drop of cum. Her left hand gently stroked her own pussy, which she was surprised to find was quite wet. Controlling him like this, controlling his orgasm, aroused her more than she realized.
“Oh, god! That was amazing!” Barry was still breathing hard, trying to wrap his mind around what had transpired. “Oh, god! You are so fucking good!” He pulled himself together.
Patricia checked her make-up in her compact, refreshing the lipstick she had left on Krushank's cock. “Let's get back to the party. Don't want to cause any rumors. Fix your shirt, Barry. Ready?”
As she opened the door, she turned to him, saying, “I can have that information ready by Monday, Mr. Krushank. I can have your secretary set up a 9:30 appointment so we can go over it together, if you'd like.”
“Yes, Patricia, that would be good. Thanks for letting me interrupt your party.” Barry sounded appropriately professional, a manager telling one of his minions what needed to be done.
Patricia smiled to herself. Barry had been her lover for several months now. While their relationship didn't exactly follow a strict BDSM model, Barry did tend to be submissive, servicing Patricia's whims. True, he got his fair share of release. After all, that was the point of their relationship.
It started one night when Barry d**gged her. While that sounds like a recipe for disaster, it worked well for them. Patricia had been feeling the need for release, felt a certain attraction to Barry's power, and didn't know how to deal with the situation. Barry's heavy-handed almost-**** had actually initiated their affair. Patricia had taken control almost from the start. She didn't often get the chance to spend the night with Barry, but the two of them frequently “worked” weekends together. Still, this was going to be special.
Their affair started when Patricia's husband, Bill, had been laid off. That had altered the dynamics of their relationship, making Patricia the breadwinner, the dominant. But at the same time, Bill had gotten depressed, started drinking, become withdrawn. Barry had been the perfect diversion. He was bigger than Bill, had more endurance, and was more creative. She quickly came to enjoy having him as a lover. And, to her surprise, getting fucked regularly made her want to fuck even more regularly. Fortunately, Bill had found a new job. While it required travel, it rebuilt his confidence and recharged his sex drive. Between the two men, Patricia was enjoying herself these days.
Patricia stopped in the ladies' room. A quick rinse with mouthwash was in order. And perhaps a little more attention to her make-up. Patricia was smiling, thinking about later, alone with Barry. She had a new La Perla ensemble on beneath her blouse and short skirt. A black demi-bra, with a matching six-strap garter belt holding up her shiny, sheer Wolford stockings, and teenie-tiny g-string. She was wearing a nice pair of sensible black heels now, but there was a pair of 6-inch black patent Louboutins in the bottom drawer of her desk, alongside a purple suede flogger, a pair of hand cuffs and a Wartenberg wheel. She was really looking forward to a night together.
As Patricia stepped out of the restroom, she nearly bumped into Mitch Johnson, Barry's superior's superior. “Ah, hello, Mr. Johnson. Nice to see you.”
“Hello, Patricia. I want to have a word with you. Would you come to my office, please?” That was odd. Mr. Johnson rarely exchanged more than mere pleasantries with Patricia. Actually, come to think of it, this was very odd.
“Certainly, Mr. Johnson.”
They walked together in silence, excepting the click of Patricia's heels on the marble. Mr. Johnson's office was two floors up; the elevator ride was likewise silent, a bit awkward.
Unlike Barry, Mr. Johnson did not hold the door for her. She was too low on the ladder to warrant such consideration. Entering the office, she was surprised to see Royce Reynolds, the VP for finance, and two men she didn't recognize already present. She noted that they were holding drinks, and that Mr. Johnson's private bar was open.
“Watch the monitor, Patricia.” Mr. Johnson walked over to his desk and typed something.
The wall-mounted display flickered to life. Patricia's eyes widened as she watched herself sucking Barry's cock, replaying their encounter. From the angle, it appeared to taken by a camera about desk-level.
“Patricia, I know about your affair with Krushank. You and I know that's grounds for termination. But firing you would be a terrible waste. You're a productive employee. And you're a damned sexy woman. I think you're smart enough to negotiate a mutually satisfying arrangement.”
Patricia contained her surprise, and quietly surveyed the room. Johnson, the company's rapidly rising star, was maybe forty-five, reasonably good looking, and in good shape. Supposedly he was an avid tennis player. Certainly, he was trimmer than most of the office men. Reynolds was probably in his late fifties, had a bit of a spare tire, but was well-groomed and wore very expensive-looking clothing. Of the other two men, one was watching her with intense interest, leering at her and periodically licking his thick lips. Appearing to be about sixty, he was a big man, overweight, heavy-boned, sweating, the collar of his expensive shirt unbuttoned, and his silk tie loosely knotted. Altogether an unkempt, almost slovenly appearance. The last man was perhaps fifty-five, rather thin, almost severe. Calm, he also watched with interest, but clearly dispassionately as if constantly taking her measure, assessing her strengths, judging her weaknesses. Somehow, he made her think of an undertaker.
Still silent, Patricia realized she was feeling a familiar tingle in her groin. She was caught, powerless except to the extent that she could manipulate these men to her will. The tingling became a warm flush, and she could feel herself getting wet. She lowered her head, not out of deference although the motion gave that impression, but rather to hide the sly smile she couldn't contain. This was possibly going to be more exciting than the evening with Barry she had planned.
Mr. Johnson came close to her and took her chin in his hand. He was at least six inches above her own five-six. He forced her face up. “So, what's it going to be, Patricia?”
Patricia gazed at him and wordlessly reached up to unbutton her blouse. She took her time, acutely aware that now three of the men were watching her with rapt attention. Only Undertaker showed no change in attitude. “I do this tonight, and?” The inflection in her voice conveyed the meaning of her question.
“You're in no position to barter, Patricia.” Mr. Johnson looked at her expectantly.
She finished unbuttoning the blouse, and shrugged it off, catching it as it fell and putting it neatly on the back of a near-by chair. She purposely took pains to gracefully display herself to them. Adroitly, she reached behind herself to unzip her skirt, taking advantage of the opportunity to show her toned abs.
The large man gave a wolf-whistle as her skirt dropped to the floor. She felt satisfaction, but this time refrained from smiling. She stepped out of the skirt, knelt to get it, and placed it beside the blouse.
“She's gorgeous!” Again, Large Man was more demonstrative than the rest. Patricia again intentionally displayed herself for her appreciative audience. Turning her back to them, she reached up to unhook her bra, only to have Mr. Johnson do the job himself. A little annoyed to have her plans altered, Patricia shrugged off the bra, exposing her firm breasts and perk nipples. She realized she was breathing hard again, scarcely able to contain her excitement.
Mr. Johnson put his hands on her shoulders and turned her to the men. “Don't be shy, Patricia. We're going to all get to know one another quite well tonight. No point in hiding.” His hands moved to her breasts, massaging them firmly, causing her to tip her head back and close her eyes in pleasure.
“I love how the black lace contrasts with that lovely golden skin of yours. Tell me, Patricia, are you as smooth as that tiny little g-string suggests? Let's find out, shall we?” He hooked his fingers through the tiny strap and then, picking up scissors from his desk, cut it. Patricia spread her legs ever so slightly and the bottom fell to the floor. “Oh, look at that! What a lovely, lovely pussy, Patricia! Oh, and what's this? Moisture? Are you excited, Patricia? What a naughty little slut! I knew you were a tramp, but I never suspected this. Very nice, Patricia. I think we're all going to have a very good time, Patricia.”
The three seated men were moving closer. Large Man was awkwardly removing his pants, having already dropped his jacket. The other two made no effort to disrobe.
“Come here, cunt.” Johnson pulled her to the leather sofa and forced her over the arm, so she rested on her elbows, ass outwards.
“If only I had my Louboutins on,” Patricia thought to herself. “My legs look so good in high heels.” She smiled as she heard the zipper on Johnson's pants, felt his hand fumbling at her pussy. He grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled sharply, forcing her head back. Then, she felt his hard cock pushing into her cunt. She couldn't help releasing a loud gasp.
“Yeah, cunt, you like that, don't you! Oh, god, so tight! Krushank must be a real needle-dick! Christ, your cunt is so smooth, so wet, and so very, very tight!” Johnson began very deliberate, very deep thrusts. “Mmmmm...yes...so slippery, you little slut. You love this, don't you!” He leaned forward and bit not too gently on her shoulder.
Johnson's cock was larger than Krushank's and Patricia was totally absorbed in the incredible sensation of this hot, hard cock pushing into her and pulling almost completely out. She realized the “Uhn...uhn...uhn” sounds were hers, each thrust evoking her mindless, satisfied sound. She was pushing her butt back against him, matching his rhythm perfectly, maximizing the intensity of his thrusting. She felt a smooth but firm cock pushing against her lips and realized that Large Man was kneeling on the couch, expecting her to suck his cock. She eagerly obliged him.
His cock was not even as long as Bill's, but it was the thickest Patricia had ever experienced. She could scarcely get her lips around it. Patricia felt an orgasm building, probably due to the excitement of the situation as much as to the actual stimulation she was experiencing. She sucked hard, not particularly to please Large Man, but simply because she was responding to Johnson's pounding.
“Mmmm...Mmmm...Mmmm.” Mouth filled with cock, Patricia's orgasm was accompanied by only inarticulate sounds. Her hands gripped Large Man's waist firmly.
“Oh, god, she's squirting! I'm going to cum!” Johnson called out, and pulled Patricia's hips hard, forcing his cock even deeper into her pussy.
Patricia was only dimly aware of Johnson's cock throbbing inside her because she was busy swallowing the copious amounts of cum Large Man was spewing into her mouth. She did her best to take it all, and only a few strands leaked, forming long, thin drips from her lovely lips. Patricia wiped one with her fingers and transferred it to her left nipple, where she gently rubbed it onto her rock-hard little tit.
Large Man slowly moved from the couch, and Patricia dimly realized that Reynolds was taking his place. Reynolds unzipped, and guided Patricia's free hand into his crotch, where she discovered his quickly hardening long, thin snake. Within seconds, the member had pushed out and was within reach of her mouth.
Patricia leaned forward as far as she could, aided by hands pushing down on her back. Even as she managed to take Reynolds' cock into her hot, hungry mouth, she felt an odd, cold, wetness on her asshole. This was followed by a firm, insistent force stretching her delicate anus. She had been fingered before, but aside from two attempts with Bill, she had never given her ass for fucking.
The cock did not seem as long or thick as she expected. In her pussy, Johnson was certainly bigger than Bill. Yet now, she could feel her butt stretching to accommodate this visitor. She felt pain, but also fullness, intensity, and satisfaction. Again, she pushed back against the force and felt herself even more deeply penetrated. She felt Mr. Johnson reach around her hips and gently rub her pussy.
“Nice ass, slut.” The person she had assumed was Mr. Johnson hissed in her ear, and she was pretty sure that it was NOT Mr. Johnson, that Undertaker was fucking her. She was being fucked in the ass by a complete stranger! And at the same time she was sucking the cock of the vice president of finance! And she was rapidly approaching another orgasm! Patricia let her head ride up and down the shaft in her mouth. She could feel it stiffen, hear his stertorous breathing. Lubricated with her saliva, her pursed lips moved up and down more easily now. Mr. Reynolds was lying back, his hands riding on her head, not attempting to control her motion, merely playing with her hair and enjoying the sensation.
Patricia felt hands pulling at her, pulling her away from Reynolds' delightful cock, pulling her onto the couch atop him. Almost without realizing it, she was guided down onto Reynolds' shaft, which filled her pussy as fully as moments earlier it had filled her mouth. She gasped aloud as her weight pushed her completely onto him.
“Oh, yes. Yes, fuck me.” Patricia began riding Reynolds' cock, shifting her weight and even raising and lowering her hips. “Oh...so big...I love it...yes.” Patricia was close to loosing control. This was a far better fucking than Bill had ever managed, or even Barry. And there was no indication of it ending. Patricia ran her hands over her breasts and tweaked her hard little nipples. The additional stimulation was enough to bring her orgasm fully. She arched her back and cried aloud, humping furiously. After she crested, she began rising and settling deliberately, at first slowly but her pace increased. She had her arms down, holding Reynolds' shoulders, her head down, eyes closed, entirely focused on the sensation of that long, hard cock inside her.
Hands on her shoulders followed by a man's weight pushed her down, almost kneeling on the man beneath her. Unexpectedly she felt fingers applying the same cold wetness to her ass, followed quickly by the same hard, thin cock being forced into her ass. Patricia's eyes widened and she again gasped. She was being stretched beyond anything she had previously experienced.
Undertaker let his weight push her back until Patricia's belly was pressed against Reynolds'. She was no longer able to move easily, but even the small motions Reynolds made generated such intense sensations that Patricia felt herself quickly cresting toward yet another orgasm.
Seeing Patricia's double penetration was evidently a powerful stimulus because Johnson and Large Man again sported erections, although Johnson's was clearly the harder of the two. Johnson carefully stepped up to the couch, bringing his cock close to her mouth, and was rewarded by having Patricia slurp his swollen member into her mouth.
Eyes again closed, her hands teased her nipples. Patricia was again pushing her ass back in contrapuntal rhythm to Undertaker's thrusts. “Oh god! I feel you rubbing against each other! Oh...so good. Gently! Please, not too deep! Oh yes...like that! Yes...yes...unnnnnnh!”
“You little slut! You love being fucked, don't you!” Mr. Johnson had pulled his cock from her mouth and was stroking himself vigorously. “I should have invited the entire upper management staff. You'd like that, wouldn't you, slut! Think about it, Patricia...fucked by 18 horny guys until they're drained. Think about it...cocks continuously probably a whole day of hard, slippery cock.”
The image set Patricia off again. She tensed and again arched her back – although not so far this time because Undertaker restricted her motion. She felt hot juice strike her face...Johnson's ejaculate.
Large Man had been watching and masturbating. His thick cock was almost purple with pent-up blood, and the veins bulged prominently. The man's face was red and his visible skin glistened with sweat. He showed no interest in fucking her further, but was fascinated by the cum dripping off her face. Patricia's face was only a foot or so from his; she could beads of perspiration on his forehead, the enlarged pores on his nose.
The sensations of the double penetration were again overwhelming Patricia's senses. Reynolds and Undertaker had synchronized their movements; and the result was so intense Patricia was unable to do more than let the waves wash over her. Her eyes were open, but what she saw didn't register. The only thing running through her brain was the sensation, the movement towards orgasm.
Suddenly, Patricia's reverie was broken by a sharp smack on her ass. Then another. Undertaker had pushed into her deeply, and was slapping her butt cheek. Patricia turned her head to see him, not so much out of curiosity as to signal assent. Another smack. Harder. Undertaker was glaring at her, his face twisted and cruel. Another smack. He had stopped thrusting and was devoting his energies entirely to slapping now. Both cocks were still hard inside her and the slapping served to give a very pleasurable stimulation. Patricia moved a bit to give Undertaker better access to her pussy.
Undertaker noticed her shift and took advantage of it to strike harder.
“Smack!” Patricia jumped a bit, causing Undertaker's cock to partially slide from her ass. She whimpered a little, but didn't try to stop him.
“Smack!”
Patricia buried her face in Reynolds' chest. “Uhnnn. Oh, please...”
“Smack!” Louder this time.
“Goddamn, Smith. She's creaming...her pussy's creaming. The bitch loves this.” Reynolds' cock exploded.
“Smack!”
The sensations – cocks in her pussy and ass, cum on her face, Large Man masturbating inches away, and those painfully delightful slaps – together pushed Patricia over the edge. She screamed. Patricia was orgasming. Totally oblivious to her surroundings, she grabbed her breasts and squeezed them hard, kneading her nipples. The intensity subsided after a minute. Reynolds pushed himself out from under her, turning her onto her back as he did.
Patricia realized Johnson was approaching, with something long, white, and skinny in his hand. It had a cord dangling off one end. She felt a hand on either shoulder, pulling her backwards and pushing her onto her back on the couch. She heard a hum and felt something vibrate against her pussy. The effect was electrifying! After so much fucking, her clit was hypersensitive.
Patricia writhed on the couch as best she could, but her shoulders and ankles were being held. She looked up into Large Man's leering face. It was his hammy pawns holding her shoulders.
“Just give up, cunt. We're going to fuck you senseless.” He was practically drooling.
The relentless throbbing at her pussy couldn't be ignored. Patricia jerked violently, another orgasm absorbing her. That was the last thing she remembered clearly.
She remembered swallowing lots of loads, and cocks in her ass, her pussy, her mouth, her hands, everywhere. She wasn't sure how many different men there were – it might have been the four, it might have been twenty or more. She had a vague recollection of men cheering as Large Man forced his thick cock into her ass. She was pretty sure she had licked him clean afterwards, too. She remembered other things, but they weren't at all clear.
When she regained her senses, she was on the couch. Her butt was sore, her asshole was sore, her thighs were sore, her jaw was sore. She was exhausted. There was dried jism on her belly, on her breasts and chest, and on the upper parts of her stockings. She was pretty sure that her face was covered, too. One stocking had a run from her toe to her knee. She could feel a slimy discharge in her crotch. She couldn't see her shoes. Her bra, blouse, and skirt were neatly folded on the back of the chair where she deposited them.
The door opened and Mr. Johnson walked in, carrying some towels.
“Good. You've come 'round. Here, clean up. There's a mirror on the back of my lavatory door.” He helped her stand, then gave her the towels.
Gingerly, Patricia walked to Mr. Johnson's private restroom. Her knees were shaky and her butt hurt. The slimy discharge started oozing down her legs, too. Not a pleasant sensation. Overall, though, she felt surprisingly good. Sweaty, slimy, and sore, but good. She looked in the mirror, debated, and decided that a shower was probably in order. She turned on the water, and removed her garter and the ruined stockings.
Mr. Johnson walked in without hesitation and put his hands on her waist, pulling her ass against his crotch. “Mmmmm. Nice ass. And you use it so nicely.”
She stood, now completely naked except for the dried jism, and faced him defiantly. “Yes, I do. Now are you going to let me shower, or do you want to fuck again?” Her bluff wasn't quite as effective as she'd hoped because she was trembling and wobbly.
“Not today, Patricia. I'm satisfied for now.” Mr. Johnson behaved as if he didn't even sense her attitude, as if he knew she was going to do whatever he wished. “You did very well.
“I'm afraid the party's pretty much over. It's 4:30 in the morning. Krushank got very drunk when he couldn't find you. I think he went home. Alone.
“I'm going to call you a cab and you can go home and get some sleep. Recover. We'll talk on Monday.” With that, he left her alone, closing the door behind him.
Patricia showered, discovering that her pussy was as sore as her ass. Her pussy lips were swollen and pink, too. Still, it felt nice when she gently stroked herself.
It had been an interesting evening. More interesting than the evening she'd planned with Barry. She stroked herself again, water running down her body. Her nipples were hard and she realized she was feeling a bit excited. Better shower and get going. She didn't need to get distracted right now.
She toweled herself dry and tossed the stockings in the trash. Without the stockings, the garter belt was pointless, so she didn't bother. She ran a comb through her hair.
She strode into the main office completely naked. Not looking up, Mr. Johnson was seated at his desk. “Your purse and shoes are on the chair with your clothes.”
Turned towards Johnson, Patricia put on the bra, then pulled her skirt on. She sat to strap on the shoes, making a point of flashing her bare pussy Johnson's way.
“I need to fix my make-up, then I'll take that cab.”
Mr. Johnson nodded. “Take your time. It'll be waiting.”
Patricia returned to the lavatory and carefully applied some powder, blush, mascara and lipstick. She turned to leave and almost collided with Johnson.
“Patricia, you were very, very good. Too good to give up, actually.” He stroked her shoulder with one hand. “I can be a very helpful friend if you let me, Patricia.”
Patricia turned to face him, and tilted her head, as if trying to see him in a different perspective. “I think I'd like that. I'd like that very much. But I won't do anything that would hurt my husband.”
“I think this is the beginning of a very interesting relationship.”
Aeryn
- 21.01.2021
- 6
- 0
