Women Who Perform With AnimalsChapter 4
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Boss Carl's back room was the most lush and luxurious that Lenny had ever seen. It combined the attributes of a bedroom and office, containing a large double bed and a huge walnut desk.
On the desk, Lenny was surprised to see a complicated set of telephones... including a red phone marked, "hot-line."
But that was not the object of her visit... her purpose was to obtain an interview for the position he had advertised. The ad had not specified precisely what he had in mind, so she asked him that question first of all.
"What, precisely, would be my duties?"
A low, threatening laugh escaped from Boss Carl's lips. He sat heavily into the swivel chair behind his desk and held a pencil in his large, hairy hands. For several seconds, his eyes seemed to be transfixed by the tiny pencil. Then he broke it violently in two.
"Time," he said.
"Time?"
"There will be time for those questions later... the first order of business, my little princess, is to derive your own suitability for the job."
Something about his voice, its basso timbre making the very walls shake, made Lenny excessively nervous. Why, she thought to herself, couldn't he tell her what her duties might be?
He stood suddenly and walked to a corner of his desk. His overcoat had somehow become unbuttoned during their conversation and now flopped open, revealing his burly prick where it hung between his massive, hairy thighs. His face was cracked by a meaningful leer.
"Before we begin to discuss terms," he rumbled, "we must see how you perform."
She shrank away from him, desiring only to escape from this impending and brutal attack. The rumors about his sexual prowess were really common knowledge. In every beauty parlor in every mid- town office, the word had long ago been spread that he was the most vicious and insatiable of men.
With a shudder, Lenny remembered how she had once boasted of being enough woman to completely wear even Boss Carl out. She had never dreamed, of course, that she would be put to the test!
"Well?" there was a hint of deprecation in his voice, as though he were insinuating that Lenny were not up to this sort of activity.
"I've... I've never had any complaints."
"I like to check over every piece of merchandise myself..."
The thought suddenly struck Lenny, if she were to get the job, if she were to become the woman whom this brute of a man would turn into the world's biggest star; then she would have to handle every situation with absolute poise.
It was suddenly obvious to the shapely young blonde that this too was a test.
"I usually receive some form of remuneration..." she said coldly, backing away from the advancing brute.
"I think that these circumstances are a bit different, Miss Morgan," he replied. "Perhaps we can look on this as a preliminary audition."
"I am afraid that I cannot perform for you without an advance... for my own professional protection, you understand."
Boss Carl stopped in his tracks. This woman was different! So, he thought grimly to himself, she was parrying his every attack. In that case, he decided, he might as well move on with all possible haste. He pulled a thick wallet from his trenchcoat pocket and produced a one-hundred dollar bill.
"Will this be sufficient?" he asked gruffly.
"Five-hundred," she snapped coldly.
Boss Carl was genuinely impressed. He knew that a cheap street whore would have grasped the money eagerly, ramming it down her blouse before anyone would have the chance to snatch it away from her. A more expensive slut would have demanded two or even three-hundred... but only a woman with truly high professional standards would have had the gall to ask him for five-hundred. He was slightly stung and greatly pleased.
Somewhat reluctantly, Boss Carl dipped into his wallet once more and produced four more one-hundred dollar bills. He tossed them on the floor before Lenny's feet.
"Hand them to me!" she demanded.
He bent and procured the greenbacks, with a humble grin, and pressed them into her waiting hand.
"Now," Lenny pronounced, "you may undress me if you wish."
He grinned and began to work at the buttons of her sweater; finally, with great impatient coughings and gaspings he pulled it off over her head. There was something in the tousle of her blonde hair that excited the animal in him. He ripped her bra from her breasts viciously, cupping one in his hand. He stared for a moment, as though pondering what to do next.
"You..." Lenny smiled, "are not living up to your reputation."
He looked into her eyes with a surprisingly tender grin, then bent to kiss the roundness of her bosom. She thrilled at his gentle touch; she had expected nothing like this at all.
As he fondled and nibbled at her breasts, his other hand slid down to release the fastener of her mini-skirt. It dropped to the floor with a rustling sound. Then his great hairy finger hooked over the waistband of her panties. With a deft flick of the wrist he pulled them down over her knees.
"Kick 'em off," he barked.
She kicked them off.
With a proud smirk, Lenny arched her back, thrusting her hips toward her lover's loins. He responded as though connected to her desire by some magical, golden cord. His great stiff cock thrust against her furry cunt. It prodded the lips, probing for the hot little knob that was her clitoris...
"... the bed..." in the transport of his desire, Boss Carl was barely able to speak. In his wild, exotic life he had never seen such a beautiful, perfect body.
"Your skin..." he marveled. "It's so perfect, so soft and smooth..."
She stretched her body out on the crisp sheets and crooned, "Tell me more, baby."
"Your breasts," he moaned, "they're colossal, and shaped like golden pears..." She had not expected any such tenderness from this magnate of erotica. He kissed her passionately yet gently, covering every inch of her delectable body. His lips brushed lightly along the curve of her neck and moved down to bite and hickey at the soft swell of her tummy. His tongue probed into her elongated navel.
"More!" she cried.
"More, more!" he answered in a joyous, coarse voice.
His lips found the lips of her womanhood then, kissing her cunt with deep and meaningful passion. Lenny felt a hot wave of desire sweep up the length of her body. No one had made love to her with such fierce restraint before... she felt as if he might explode into an uncontrollable animal at any moment. Indeed, this was the skill of the famous Boss Carl; he knew precisely what to hold back and what to force onto a woman. His mouth tested the extent of her desire then pushed it to and beyond its own limits.
"Oh!" she screamed, "Give me more, kiss me there! Suck on me! Suck! Suck!"
He made peculiar grunting sounds as he worked at her open lips of desire, his head bobbed up and down between the soft, silky flesh of her thighs.
"I can't stand anymore!" she roared out, "I can't stand it! Screw me Carl! Screw me!"
His tone became demanding. "Boss!" he hissed into her cunt, stirring the female fluids to a broiling torrent of raw need, "Call me Boss, baby!"
"B... Boss... Boss!" she crooned, "Please screw me, Boss!"
He laughed then, a strange hollow laugh that echoed and reechoed throughout the room. With a fantastic, athletic lunge, he arched his body up over her prone loveliness and sank his magnificent cock deeply into her open cunt.
The sensation was marvelous; Lenny felt as though a huge cannon had gone off inside her vulva. She strained and arched against it. Driving her hips up against the hard muscular flesh that ravished her so delightfully.
"Oh!" she cried out, "It's beautiful... it's so groovy! Uh! Uh!"
Now Carl was hunching his loins up into her with a jackhammer force, urging her and smashing her to the very edge of climax.
Then, with a small cry and a great raking of her fingernails across the hard, muscular back, Lenny Morgan came extravagantly. Her woman fluids rushed and poured from the opening between her long, slender legs. The flesh of her thighs glistened with the consummation.
Grunting rhythmically, Boss Carl drove his great prick into her with spurts of orgasm. Lenny could feel the hot liquid splashing into her, mixing with her own juices to form a witch's brew of satisfied lust.
"That," Lenny said after she had caught her breath, "That was just divine..."
Boss Carl growled something about the second test and scooped up his trenchcoat. He wrapped it around his body like a dressing gown and then walked to the great walnut desk. He was making some kind of notation on the pad.
"Well, lover," she said hoarsely, "do I pass the test?"
"Dynamite!" he snarled in genuine appreciation of her talents. "But that was just the first test..."
Lyle Montagne was a very successful actor. He left the lobby of the theater early--as was his custom at world premieres.
This was the premiere showing of his latest picture, Men Among Menageries. He had hated the picture, with the exception of the animals involved... he loved animals, with the soft fur and large, beguiling eyes.
He directed his driver to proceed to the usual spot. The usual spot in this case was the Phylogem Club.
Lyle Montagne was typical of the extraordinarily wealthy and influential customers who frequented Boss Carl's exotic club. He enjoyed the privacy, the lush and extravagant decor... and most of all--the extraordinary entertainment.
Geraldine
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