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Subject: {ASSM} PARKER11: Career Opportunities 2/4
Date: Thu, 13 Jul 2000 18:10:13 -0400
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REPOST: PARKER11.TXT -- M/F, NC -- 2/4
CAREER OPPORTUNITIES
by Parker
an210088@anon.penet.fi
WARNING: There's not a lot of sex in this one. Mostly just
the setup, really. Still, if you stick with it, there's
bound to be some of that sort of stuff in the future.
Copyright 1994 by me (Parker). Feel free to distribute
(unaltered) as you will, but be discrete.
=================================================================
"This isn't gonna work."
Rodney was his usual optimistic self.
"Sure it will." Brad was confident.
But not that confident.
"It will, won't it?" He looked over at Phyllis who grinned and nodded in
response.
"No problem," she told him. "I've been signing old dragon breath's
correspondence for so long now, no one could tell the difference. Same with
Susan." Susan Morrow was Barbara's secretary, and a close friend of Phyllis.
She had her own reasons to hate her boss. "As far as anyone will be able to
tell," Phyllis concluded, putting down the piece of paper, "the letters will be
properly signed."
Rodney still looked doubtful, but he nodded his head. It would be so much
fun if it worked...
*****
Robert Baxter was not generally a happy man.
His career with the Company had been a long and successful one, but the
end was in sight now, and he had discovered, to his surprise and trepidation,
that he knew nothing else. The Company was his quite literally his whole life.
He had started out as a young clerk in the mail room and slowly risen through
the ranks until finally reaching his present position. It was quite an
achievement. His success, however, had been achieved without the benefit of a
formal education, and he had risen just about as far as he could.
Perhaps, he sometimes thought, too far. Perhaps they wanted a younger,
more educated man in his post at the Company. Maybe that was why they refused
to accept his offer to carry on past the legal age of retirement.
Six more months. That was all.
Bastards.
Barbara now... maybe she was different. Despite being a woman - Baxter was
old-fashioned enough to consider it inappropriate for a woman to have a
business career - she really seemed to appreciate his experience and wisdom.
She, of all the bright, young executives who seemed to infest the Company
boardrooms these days, seemed to understand and seek out his tutelage. It was
true, of course, that she'd screwed up royally at the last sales meeting; she'd
messed up a presentation a rookie could have spewed out with ease. But
afterwards...
Afterwards.
Baxter was not a popular man with women. He'd been married once, but that
had been so long ago that he had to page through dusty, yellowing photo albums
to recall his wife's face. Since then, he had lived only for his career, only
engaging in sexual relations to relieve physical needs.
Hookers, mostly.
But Barbara... well, she was a beautiful woman. He'd always found her
attractive; indeed, that was one of the main reasons he had agreed to have her
work in his department in the first place. The respect for her abilities came
later. He had never, however, even for a moment thought that the attraction
might be mutual. After all, he was over thirty years older than her.
Why would she want him?
Still, that seemed to be exactly what she did want. He had felt her eyes
on him during the meeting, watching... sizing him up. Finally, he had been
unable to resist it any longer. Perhaps it was the fact that his career with
the Company was pretty much over that allowed him to break free of his usual
reserve and make the first move. Maybe he just no longer cared about all those
new "sexual harassment" policies. Whatever, it had proved to be the right thing
to do. She'd melted into his arms, and had turned out to be - as they used to
say when he was just a boy - hot as a two dollar whore.
It had been an exhilarating experience.
Still, he had felt more than a little nervous the following monday at the
office. What would she say? How would she act? Would he find himself charged
with sexual harassment? The answer came to him in the form of a note from
Barbara.
A wonderful note.
Hands shaking, he picked it up to read through it one more time. His eyes
didn't even focus on the actual writing; by now, he knew every word of it by
heart. By heart. Nevertheless, his eyes scanned the page eagerly...
'Dearest Robert, last friday was so wonderful I can't
begin to tell you how I feel. I know that I often put on a
very hard, reserved front at work, but that is not the real
me. Underneath, I am a seething volcano of sexual wants and
needs. You are the only person at the company to have seen
this in me. This is embarrassing to say, but after what
happened in your office, I feel I can tell you anything.
Please don't stop. I need sex and I need it every day. The
rougher the better. Don't ask; don't take me out on dates or
spend money on me; don't accept 'no' for an answer: just
take me whenever and wherever you want. I find it
particularly exciting when you talk dirty to me: call me a
whore or a bitch - the dirtier the better.
I hope this letter has not scared you off. I don't
think it will, as you are the first real man I have met at
the Company.
Please don't show this letter to anybody.'
(signed) 'Barbara Dahlton'
That was her signature all right. He had seen it hundreds of times before
on memos and reports and the like. Even with that, however, he could scarcely
believe what he was reading.
But believe it he did.
After folding up the letter and slipping it into his briefcase, he reached
over and punched the transmit button on his intercom. "Phyllis," he asked,
"Please ask Ms. Dahlton to see me in my office right away."
"Yes sir."
Impatiently, he leaned back in his chair to wait, one hand reaching down
and absentmindedly stroking his rock hard penis...
*****
Barbara stared down at the piece of paper in her hand, glaring
suspiciously as if it might at any moment turn into some kind of poisonous
viper and inject her with venom. A memo, or, more accurately, a note. From
Baxter.
The bastard.
It read:
'Barbara: You are a great fuck. I've been watching that
hot body of yours prance around the office for years
now, and I've dreamed of fucking it in so many ways
that it'd make your head spin. Until last week, I
didn't know the you felt the same way about me. You are
one hot bitch, and now that I know it, we will be
spending a lot of time together. As well as the
fucking, I expect that our time together will help you
prepare for your new position in the company after I am
gone.
After reading this note, remove your panties and
come right to my office.'
(signed) 'Robert Baxter'
And there is was: his signature at the bottom. She'd seen it a thousand
times. Bastard probably had his secretary type it up, she thought. Suddenly
enraged, she crumpled the sheet of paper into a ball and drew her arm back to
toss it across the room, but she held onto it at the last moment. There was no
way she was going to be taking any chances that this particular note would fall
into anyone's hands other than her own. The consequences of this note being
picked up and read by the cleaners... Well, that wouldn't happen. She carefully
folded the note and put it into her purse.
The question now was what she was going to do about it. Looking back on
last Friday, she found it difficult to believe that she had acted as she did in
Baxter's office. In fact, the entire episode had a dream-like quality about it.
Or, rather, nightmare-like.
What had she been thinking?
Still, it was done. And now she had to decide how to deal with the
consequences. Barbara hadn't been as successful as she had in business by
avoiding or denying problems. And this, most certainly, was a problem.
She considered the situation as clearly as she could. On one hand, there
was the Company's policy regarding sexual harassment. She had no doubt that
should she choose to reveal the note and make a complaint, Baxter would be
"retiring" a little sooner than planned. There was no evidence of the sexual
encounter in his office, and no one would take his word over her's in that
situation. It was just too unbelievable. That was one possible course of
action.
On the other hand...
On the other hand, her mind kept returning to that one phrase in Baxter's
note: '...I expect that our time together will help you prepare for your new
position in the company after I am gone.' That sounded like a promise; a
promise and a threat: do what I tell you and you will get my position when I
retire; refuse, and you'll remain where you are. If that.
It didn't take Barbara long to make her decision. Her career was
everything to her, and if that was what it took to rise to the top... well, so
be it. She wouldn't be the first woman who slept with the boss in order to get
a promotion. And she wouldn't be the last. Besides, if she got friendly with
Baxter, it might help her increase her influence in the Company beyond what it
would already be. A little careful manoeuvring...
Her mind was made up.
Barbara stood, and, wriggling her hips a little, slid her panties down
from under her long skirt until they lay on the floor at her feet. She picked
them up and slipped them into her desk drawer. After taking a moment to
straighten her hair, she walked out of the room and towards the elevator that
would take her to Baxter's office.
*****
She closed the door softly behind her. Once again, his miserable secretary
- Phyllis, the fat cow - hadn't been at her desk and she had been forced to
announce herself. 'Once the promotion comes through,' she promised herself,
'that bitch is history.'
There he was, sitting behind his desk; watching her with hungry eyes. She
had never before thought of Baxter as a sexual being - god; what woman ever
would? - but she felt it now. Sexual tension. How on earth had he known that
she would go along with his note? Any reasonable, self-respecting woman would
have lodged a complaint within seconds of receiving it. Still... he evidently
knew what he was about: she was here. She gave an inward shudder, a little
frightened at being so easy to read. It was the ambition, of course. She wanted
the promotion and would do just about anything to get it. She deserved the
promotion.
Just about anything.
Consciously trying to be sexy, she walked steadily forward, hips swaying
out a time-worn invitation. As she walked, she slowly ran her pink tongue along
the outside of her lips. She felt more than a little embarrassed, carrying on
in this manner, but it had the desired effect. Baxter's breath quickened as she
moved towards the front of his desk. She didn't have a lot of experience with
this kind of situation - this kind of blatant seduction - but she found that
she was easily able to read the expression in his face.
In his eyes.
Lust.
He felt his cock harden behind the edge of the desk. He had never seen
Barbara like this before: so sleek; so sexy; so hot. It was like something
straight out of a Penthouse forum or something, and he just couldn't believe
that this was happening to him. These things weren't real.
But it was.
Barbara reached the front of his desk and paused there, hands on hips.
Baxter stared openly, his eyes taking in the taut bulge of her breasts as they
strained against the front of her blouse - was she pushing her breasts
outward?; the soft curves of her hips and ass under the grey, conservative
skirt; and, most of all, the look of her face. She was not a great beauty, and
was characteristically wearing little or no makeup, but with her lips slightly
parted and the tip of her tongue sliding sensuously along her lower lip, she
looked as hot as any slut. Any whore.
The note.
Almost too late he remembered: she wanted to be called certain things.
Certain names. His throat clenched up, parched with lust and fear, but he
choked out the words he thought - he believed - she wanted to hear: "Whore!"
Barbara flushed and began to breath a little faster. It was working! She
really did like it! She really did. Feeling a little flushed himself, he rose
quickly from his chair and moved around the desk.
She burned with anger and humiliation as Baxter swore at her a second time
- calling her a 'hot bitch' - and then a third. What the hell did he think he
was doing? As if his stinking breath wasn't bad enough, he treated women
like...
Her train of thought was cut off as he came up behind her and shoved her
against the desk. The breath was knocked out of her as she involuntarily bent
forward, gasping at the sudden pain.
"Little slut," Baxter grunted, clutching at her breasts from behind.
"Little whore."
She started to struggle as he roughly kneaded her aching breasts through
the thin material of her blouse, but then held back. She had made her decision.
She was here for a reason. Baxter's letter had made clear the consequences of
non-compliance with his wishes. With the note as evidence she could certainly
get her fired, but by the time the shit stopped spraying she would be out of
the promotion. Best to play along; give him what he wanted.
For now.
"Oh yesssss..." she moaned, twisting and writhing under his grip.
"Yesss..."
"Gonna fuck you bitch." Baxter leaned forward and whispered this in her
ear. She almost gagged as his putrid breath washed over her face, but still she
opened his mouth to accept his tongue. He kissed her long and hard, raping her
with his mouth while his hands continued to maul her breasts. Moaning and
gargling, she accepted his embrace, kissing back.
As if she were enjoying it.
He reached down and hooked his fingers under the waistband of her skirt.
With one tug, Barbara's skirt slid down and fell into a rough pile around her
sleek ankles. He felt around for her panties, but there were none.
The bitch didn't wear panties.
She really was a slut.
No longer embarrassed or self-conscious, he began to mutter a steady
stream of filth at her, calling her a 'whore' and a 'bitch' and a 'cunt' and
every other filthy name he could dredge up. It was clear that she liked it: her
pants and moans got louder and more frenzied.
"Ahhh... ahhhh.... ahhhh yes...."
By now his cock was rigid with lust. Roughly, he kicked her legs apart and
positioned his cock at the entrance of her pussy.
"What do you want, bitch?" he asked.
"What do you need?"
Her resolve weakened and almost shattered, but she held firm. She had come
this far; might as well go all the way. And, her mind on the job - her reward -
she answered in a soft moan: "Your cock. Please... please fuck me."
And he did.
"Well," Rodney muttered, eyes fixed firmly on the scene in front of him,
"I wouldn't have believed it." He, Brad and Phyllis looked through the one way
mirror at the scene which was being carried out in the office. Barbara, her
large breasts hanging from the ripped-open front of her blouse, was leaning
over the desk, being brutally fucked from behind by Robert Baxter.
"Ohhh... yes.... yessss...."
"She must really want that job," Brad commented. Both men's eyes were
glued to the scene in front of them, so neither saw Phyllis unobtrusively slide
a hand down the front of her skirt and begin rubbing herself.
In the office, Baxter was approaching his climax, and his pace increased,
pumping in and out of the brutalized woman. From their vantage point, the three
viewers could see the expression on Barbara's face - the grimaces of pain and
hatred; the bright red of humiliation - but her voice gave nothing away. She
panted and moaned and grunted just like some common slut.
She even, when Baxter finally came and pumped his wad of sticky cum into
her unprotected pussy, whined and bucked on the desk like she too was coming.
Phyllis, who had just had a real, albeit quieter, orgasm, pulled her sticky
fingers from under her skirt and wiped them clean.
"Oh," Baxter moaned, sliding his now flaccid cock out of Barbara's sopping
pussy, "you are one good fuck."
Barbara moaned in response, but didn't say anything.
*****
The weeks passed...
Baxter was insatiable. Since the death of his wife many years ago, he had
indulged only infrequently in any sexual relations beyond masturbation, and
even then only with prostitutes. He just didn't have the time necessary for
that sort of commitment. The job was everything to him: wife, lover,
children... whatever. That was part of why he felt such a personal sense of
betrayal at his impending forced retirement. It felt to him more like a
personal rejection; more like a divorce. With only several months now remaining
in his employment, he had already spent many nights examining his sorrows
through the bottom of an empty bottle.
Barbara, however... well, she gave him new life; new energy. He had never
met a woman like her before. She made him feel like a man thirty years younger,
both mentally and sexually. He had always, although he had kept it well hidden,
fantasized about taking some tough-minded business woman and treating her like
a common whore; degrading her; talking dirty to her; generally treating her
like a slut. Of course, this had always remained safely a fantasy, certainly
not something he would ever attempt. Baxter wasn't a particularly nice man, but
he wasn't the kind of man to abuse an unwilling woman. As well, he had become
grudgingly aware that women could be as competent as men in business. He had
gradually - no small part the result of the work of women like Barbara Dahlton
- come to accept them as colleagues. This grudging acceptance did not, however,
put a stop to the fantasies.
Then came Barbara. She was different. Special. It was her who had came on
to him; it was her who sent him that note asking - no, begging - him to treat
her like dirt. She genuinely loved to be degraded.
So that was what he did.
At every possible opportunity.
They had "lunch meetings" two or three times a week in which her only
nourishment was his warm sperm, freshly sucked from his cock. There was a
weekend "business trip" during which he fucked her seven times in two days,
twice up the ass. Several times each week he would call her into his office and
have her crawl under the desk to give him a blowjob. Once, his secretary,
Phyllis, had walked in on them during one of these sessions. Baxter had just
pushed Barbara's head down and held her hair so that she had no choice but to
continue sucking while Phyllis completed her business in the office. That
business, it had turned out, ended up taking almost twenty minutes, during
which time Baxter came and Barbara had been forced to swallow as quietly as
possible so as not to alert the busy secretary. Despite, or perhaps because, of
the danger, Baxter had found the whole episode extremely exciting and was hard
again before Phyllis left the office. Barbara had been forced to suck him off a
second time.
After that, he made a special point of taking her in relatively public
places: closets, empty boardrooms, storage rooms... She had protested at first,
but he just called her a 'stinking slut' or words to that effect and that
seemed to break down any resistance.
Besides, she seemed to like it as much as he did!
That was the best part.
After a while, Barbara got used to it.
More or less.
It ended up being just another unpleasant task which was required to get
the job done. Sort of like being asked to leave the meeting to bring the client
a cup of coffee - something that had occurred only much earlier in her career -
or being forced to spend yet another weekend in the office trying to salvage
yet another fuck-up perpetrated by one of her so-called "superiors".
And there were ways of dealing with it: always keeping a bottle of
mouthwash in her desk drawer so she could gargle away the repulsive taste and
smell of Baxter's cum; always being certain that she had a couple of extra
pairs of panties available; a bottle of aspirin for when the pain was too
great...
She never stopped being sickened and repulsed by the man and by what she
was being forced to undergo in order to get this promotion, but she endured.
Inevitably, however, her work began to suffer. This didn't bother her too
much, though. Her actions with Baxter were doing far more to secure the
promotion for her than any amount of good work. Besides, there were others to
do the grunt work. That stupid bitch Carol, for instance. She would be gone
from the company in a few months, but why not make use of her while she was
around?
In a couple of months, she would hold Baxter's position. Then things would
change...
To Baxter, the future didn't look quite so good. He would shortly be
retiring and, as if that wasn't bad enough, it had lately occurred to him that
he had not provided for his future as well as he might have done. He was only
now reviewing the numbers, and they added up to something less than a luxurious
retirement. This only fuelled his resentment against the company. Fuel that
eventually set aflame a spark of an idea.
What if...
*****
"But that's embezzlement!" The words and outraged tone sounded incongruous
coming from a half-naked woman who was stretched, legs spread wide, over the
front of a desk. From behind her, Baxter grunted in agreement as he pushed his
cock into her exposed pussy. Barbara bit her lip to keep from crying out in
pain; that first penetration of the day was always the worst. Gradually, she
felt herself loosening up as Baxter pistoned his cock back and forth. In and
out.
"Yeah," he agreed, still fucking her, "but who's going to know about it?
Between you and me, we control access to the accounts and receivables on the
computer invoicing system. We could divert hundreds of thousands of dollars
into our own accounts without anyone knowing about it, and then set it up to
look like a computer error."
Barbara, rocking with the force of his thrusts, followed his line of
reasoning. It seemed sound enough; with a little bit of work, the theft would
be untraceable.
"But what if..." She stopped speaking and let out a little wail of pain as
Baxter lurched forward with a particularly vigorous thrust. Instinctively, she
turned it into a groan of mock lust. She was getting quite good at faking lust.
"No 'what ifs'," Baxter answered through clenched teeth. He was very close
to coming now. "No one will find out. We'll split the money." With a loud
grunt, he jerked up against her, slamming her chest and face down onto the
desktop. Barbara's fists clenched tightly against the edge of the desk as she
felt his cock swell up and spit cum into her pussy.
She groaned.
Another pair of panties.
After his breathing calmed down a bit, Baxter pulled away and did up his
pants. "Well?" he asked, as Barbara slowly straightened up, wiping the thin
trail of cum off her thighs with the inside of her skirt. "Are you in?"
Barbara thought quickly. She had never before considered embezzling money
from the Company, but Baxter's analysis was accurate: between the two of them,
they could get the money out and set things up so no one would ever suspect
them. Really, it was too good an offer to pass up; it might even provide some
compensation for the humiliation and degradation she was suffering at the hands
of this asshole.
Maybe she could even find some way to pin it on him later.
"I'm in," she told him.
In the little alcove, Brad looked over at Rodney. "This is getting a
little serious," he said.
Rodney nodded in agreement, his face glum.
"What do you want to do?"
Brad shrugged. "I don't know," he answered.
But he did know. A slow smile lit up his face. "But I think that things
have gone far enough now that maybe we can help Carol keep her job here."
Rodney grunted and looked doubtful, but didn't contradict his friend.
*****
"Ohmigod... I don't believe this!"
Carol covered her mouth with her small hands, blushing a pretty shade of
red as she watched Barbara Dahlton take Baxter's cock in her hands and lather
her tongue all over the swollen cockhead. The licking and slurping sounds were
clearly audible through the microphones.
To say that this had all come as a surprise to her would be something of
an understatement. Earlier that day, Brad Tymmens had come to her with a stack
of computer printouts, a spreadsheet and an incredible story. An unbelievable
story. The printouts had been simple. They had demonstrated a course of
systematic tampering with the accounts receivable area of the firm's accounting
system. According to the modifications, a percentage of certain amounts would
never appear on the general accounts ledger, instead being rerouted to a
private account. The spreadsheets had demonstrated the reason behind the
modifications. For someone with Carol's education and intelligence, the story
had been plain: someone was defrauding the company of tens of thousands of
dollars. At least.
At first, Carol almost thought that Brad had been accusing her of the
embezzlement. Her position at the Company was very precarious; everyone knew
that she was to be "let go" after her one year contract was up, and apparently
Barbara Dahlton - that bitch! - had spread the word that she was not to receive
any assignments much more difficult than typing or filing. Carol had thus been
surprised when, over the last few weeks, Barbara had been sending her some more
challenging work, but she figured that Barbara was now so certain that Carol
had no future in the Company it no longer mattered whether she got the work.
That was why she found it difficult to believe when Brad told her that he was
attempting to help her; once Barbara got Baxter's position, Brad's own job
would be on the line.
Brad's story... well, that was something else altogether.
No matter how much Carol despised the older woman, she found it difficult
to believe that she would sink so low as to sleep with Robert Baxter to get the
promotion. No woman would do that. Even without the halitosis, Baxter was a
repulsive old man. Besides, Barbara didn't need to go to such lengths; she had
been up for that promotion for months. It was pretty much settled. Brad's story
didn't make any sense.
And that was why, when she finally did let Brad talk her into accompanying
him to the alcove outside Baxter's office, she had been so shocked to see
Barbara Dahlton kneel down before Baxter to gobble hungrily at the man's cock.
"Whore," Baxter growled, grabbing at Barbara's thick, brown hair.
"Cocksucker." Barbara moaned loudly and slid her lips down the length of her
superior's cock.
Carol could feel herself blush as she stared at the sexual activity taking
place in the next room. She was not a prude - nor was she totally inexperienced
sexually - but she still felt a little embarrassed watching something like
this. Particularly in the company of a man. Even more particularly in the
company of a man to whom she felt a strong attraction.
Like Brad Tymmens.
With his dark hair and grey eyes.
Embarrassment aside, however, she felt a strong sense of fascination at
the scene in front of her. Baxter was treating Barbara like dirt - like a lowly
slut - and she seemed to love it! Every time Baxter called her a 'bitch' or a
'slut', Barbara seemed to moan with excitement. It seemed to make her hot. BUT
CAROL KNEW IT WASN'T TRUE! Brad had told her everything, including how he and
Rodney and Phyllis had tricked Baxter and Barbara into believing that the other
one really enjoyed such behaviour. Baxter honestly believed that Barbara liked
being degraded and treated in such a manner, while Barbara understood that she
was to behave in a certain way if she wished to receive the promotion. In
reality, Barbara hated what was happening.
And that, Carol realized with a small shiver of excitement, was exactly
what fascinated her about the activity taking place in Baxter's office. Barbara
hated it, but was being forced to submit regardless.
Almost involuntarily, the small blonde woman reached down and began
rubbing her hand over her crotch.
"Bend over you bitch," he ordered. "Let's see some cunt."
Obediently, Barbara leaned forward over Baxter's desk, pulled up her skirt
- no panties - and reached back to spread her asscheeks. Her pussy was clearly
displayed.
Baxter reached down and began playing with it.
That was enough.
Brad had made his point. He turned to usher the younger girl out of the
room, certain that she had seen more than enough. Poor girl was probably so
embarrassed that...
He turned to speak, but quickly choked back the words. The "poor girl" was
slowly running her hands up and down the outside of her skirt at crotch level,
staring open-mouthed at the scene taking place in the adjoining office. Her
face was flushed, but not with embarrassment.
"Carol..."
Baxter teased and poked at Barbara's exposed pussy; he made a game of it,
running his talon-like fingers up and down the outside of the woman's cuntlips
for a few moments and then sliding them inside. Barbara twitched and moaned at
his attentions, but didn't protest.
"Like it," he asked, voice hoarse, "don't you bitch?"
"Ohhh... yessss...."
Carol had never felt anything like it. Quite aside from her hatred of the
older woman, the thought of another woman being forced to submit herself like
this when she didn't want to was... well, for lack of a better word, it was
delicious.
Delicious.
The small blonde woman felt herself going all warm and wet inside her own
crotch as she watched her tormentress submit to having her pussy played with by
the repulsive Baxter.
Carol had, quite simply, never felt such a rush of sexual pleasure.
"Carol..."
It was Brad. He could see her reaction to the events in the next room, but
she didn't care. It didn't matter. He was the one who had set this all up; he
was the one who had showed her this, and allowed her this chance for revenge.
Without hesitation, she threw her arms around his neck and brought her
lips up to his in a passionate kiss. He resisted for a moment - surprised - but
quickly gave way, melting into her embrace. Their tongue met and explored each
other in a frenzy of sudden passion.
As always, Barbara had to fight back the urge to gag when forced to kiss
the older man. As well as his breath, the feel of his cracked lips and slimy
tongue in her mouth made her sick to her stomach. She held back, though. Baxter
had set her up on his desk, and was now in the final stages of "foreplay".
"Wanna be fucked?" he growled.
"Yesss," she moaned in response, "Please fuck me."
It would be over soon...
"Fuck me Brad," Carol moaned.
She was sitting on the side of the small desk, legs spread and wrapped
around Brad's own legs. Her arms encircled his neck, pulling him forward into
her embrace. As they kissed, Brad had undone her top and unclipped her bra,
exposing her small breast to his touch. The nipples sat, rock hard on her chest
as he gently and then passionately ran his hands along them.
Carol reached down and undid her skirt. Brad stepped back, and she let it
slide to the floor, where it was quickly joined by her panties.
"Oh Brad," she whispered as he undid his own pants...
"Unhh..." Barbara grunted in pain and discomfort as Baxter drove his prick
into her pussy with one quick surge. She quickly turned it into a groan of
lust, and he didn't notice anything wrong. Almost immediately, he began pumping
his cock in and out of her unresisting pussy.
Barbara stifled a groan of pain.
Almost over...
Carol sighed with pleasure as Brad's penis slowly filled her pussy. The
steady rhythm of movement against her clit sent waves of warmth and pleasure
shooting up through her belly and into her breasts. Moaning, she once again
wrapped her legs around behind him and began moving in time with his gentle
thrusts...
The two couples came at the same time.
Carol and Brad picked up the rhythm and then pulled each other together
into a tight, sweaty embrace as they each orgasmed simultaneously. Baxter
stiffened and grunted as he dumped a load of sperm into Barbara's pussy.
Barbara moaned and bucked as he came, trying her best to give the impression
that she was coming. Baxter was fooled, but Carol, watching wide-eyed over
Brad's shoulder wasn't. That fact - Barbara's faked orgasm - allowed her to
come a second time, revelling in the humiliation of the woman who had been
tormenting her for so long.
And it gave her an idea.
And so, as she and Brad slowly disengaged; as Baxter pulled his cum-soaked
penis out of Barbara's sopping pussy and ordered the woman to clean it off with
her mouth, Carol smiled maliciously at Brad.
"That was great," she said, running her hand through her lover's
sweat-soaked hair, "but it's not enough."
"W-what do you mean?"
"All this." Carol gestured towards the adjoining office, where Barbara was
busily slurping away at Baxter's cock. "The humiliation... it's great. But it's
just the beginning."
"I don't understand." Brad was still in a bit of a daze from the sex.
"Don't you see," Carol asked. She pointed towards the pile of computer
printouts and spreadsheets. "We've got enough there to put both her and Baxter
away for some time." The blonde woman gave a smile that both frightened and
attracted him at the same time.
"She's our's," Carol laughed. "Barbara belongs to us now."
END PART TWO
=================================================================
As usual, all comments are appreciated.
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reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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