Chapter 10
A night's sleep didn't cool Floyd Bedell's anger one bit. At about ten o'clock the next morning, without even bothering to see whether or not Carol was at her desk, he stormed to the head of the personnel department and said that he wanted the girl fired.
The woman in charge of hiring and firing for the agency looked up at him from behind her desk, ironically, and said, "I'm afraid you're going to have to take that up with Mr. Palmer personally."
Floyd broke out in a cold sweat. "Mr. Palmer?"
"That's right, Mr. Bedell," the woman explained. "Mr. Palmer asked for Miss Francis' personnel file late yesterday afternoon and first thing this morning he requested that she be transferred to his personal secretarial staff."
From that point on, things moved fast and furiously for Carol. So fast, in fact, that many of the details were lost and forgotten along the way. From being just one of several girls on Quincy Palmer's secretarial staff, Carol advanced rapidly, taking on more and more responsibilities, until his private secretary of more than twelve years resigned and he moved Carol up to take the woman's place. But none of these moves put Carol any closer to her goal. The possibility of her ever becoming the third Mrs. Quincy Palmer remained as remote as ever.
He made it perfectly clear to her, as he had to the rest of his personal staff, that he didn't mix business with his social activities. Regardless of what people might say or think, or how desirable he might find Carol, he kept their relationship on a strictly business and platonic basis. He let it be known, too, that he had a wife to whom he had been married for more than ten years and that though he might "play the field," he made sure that all these affairs were far removed from business and never included one of his staff. Which couldn't help but make Carol wonder whether once again she had played the wrong hand, whether the path that she had figured would lead her to the altar with him had boomeranged? Whether it mightn't have been better to try to meet him some other way and have a more intimate relationship with him? This was especially true when the hot winds blew and stirred the passions deep within her and her tormented body cried out for him. But fortunately, most of the time she was contended just to be near him, hear the sound of his voice, see the strange look deep in his eyes when she could catch him studying her.
All in all, Carol admitted that it was one of the happiest periods in her young life. While she mightn't have been making nearly as much money as she had with Zina, she was living respectably and advancing herself mentally and socially with each passing day-and she was near the man whom she wanted to be near more than anything else in the world, even if he did keep her at arm's length.
There was, however, one disturbing factor in this new life that Carol had carved out for herself. He was Roy Ferret, Quincy Palmer's stepson by his present wife. Roy was also first vice president of the firm and was looked upon as his stepfather's logical successor, if and when Quincy decided to step down.
From the very first time that she saw him, Carol instinctively disliked the man. She didn't know exactly why. Certainly he was good looking enough-at least most of the girls in the ad agency thought so and went far afield to make a play for him. Maybe it was his manner, the dirty way that he looked at her, or simply an unfavorable chemical reaction.
Of course, he treated her with respect, the same as he did the rest of the girls on his stepfather's personal staff. This was an unwritten law. These girls were untouchable-for Quincy as well as everyone else in the firm. Yet, Carol couldn't help but have the uneasy feeling that if, by chance, her relationship with his stepfather did develop into something more than a secretary-employer association, Roy Ferret would try to do something to sever it. What it would be, she had no idea. But she was sure that it would be something very unpleasant.
Carol had been working as Quincy's private secretary for more than four months, then he called her into his office one day in the middle of dictating a letter to her, he dropped a bombshell in her lap.
"I'm sailing for London in two weeks, Carol," he told her. "I could fly. But I'd like to just relax for a few days, so I'm going by ocean liner." He paused and looked at her intently. "I'd like you to go with me."
Carol's heart skipped many beats, then began thumping wildly. Quincy Palmer was asking her to go to London with him! It was an unprecedented happening in that company. Never had he ever taken a female employee with him, anywhere. She was the first!
However, she dared not attribute too much significance to it. Even after their first day at sea, he gave absolutely no indication that it would be anything but a very pleasant business trip without any amorous or sensual overtones.
Many times during the ocean voyage she remembered that very first time when she saw him in that Sunset Strip bistro; how she had felt just looking at him; how she had imagined that if he ever took her in his arms and kissed her, she would experience a climax.
One evening, after dinner and after a nightcap at the bar, he walked her to the door of her cabin, right next to his. With a romantic schoolgirl's sentiments, she wished that he would take her in his arms-if only to kiss her goodnight. Instead, he simply opened the door for her, bid her
"pleasant dreams" and left her standing there, disappointedly.
When she got inside her cabin and closed the door, she stripped off her gown and her bra and panties and stood in front of the full-length mirror. If anything, maturity had made her body even more beautiful. Her breasts were high and firm and even fuller than they had been before. Her stomach was flat, her waist almost nonexistent and her hips and thighs sensuously moulded. Zina had helped her attain this perfection and had told her that no man would ever be able to resist her. But the one man that she wanted in the whole world was resisting her and she wasn't entirely sure in her own mind how much longer she could nurse along her frustrations, how much longer it would be before she took the initiative and let him know how much she wanted him-even if it cost her job.
With an aching inside her body and her loins burning, she put on one of the filmy black nighties that she had taken expressly and hopefully for this voyage that she was making with him. She took one last look of longing at the door that separated her cabin from his. Then she put out the light and got into bed.
She lay there in the darkness, listening to the rhythmic throb of the powerful liner's engines. It seemed to match the tempo of the throbbing in her womb, in her entire body. She could see the image of him standing there in front of her, naked, beautiful and magnificent, staring down at her in that moment before he would take her.
Suddenly she felt her own hands begin to slide downward over her tummy. Oh, God, she cried out in her brain, what a terribly ironic thing it would be if, with him only a few feet away from her in his cabin, she would have to masturbate! Bu the pressure in her loins was too fierce, the urgency too intense and demanding that somehow she must find relief ... !
And then an incredible thing happened. There was a faint tapping on the door. At first, she was sure that it was just her imagination playing cruel tricks with her. But the tapping resounded again.
With her stomach fluttering and the blood pounding in her ears, Carol sprang off the bed and hurried to the door. "Is-is that you, Mr. Palmer?" she whispered, trying to quiet her jumpy nerves.
"Yes, Carol," he answered. "I hope I didn't wake you?"
It was difficult for her to answer him in her normal voice, she was so excited. "No ... I ... I haven't been able to sleep."
"Neither have I," he told her. "I was wondering if-well-if maybe you'd like to-to open the door-and perhaps talk for a little while?"
"Oh-I would very much!" she blurted out. "Just let me put on a wrap. I won't be a minute."
When she returned and opened the door she saw that he was wearing a navy blue satin bathrobe over striped silk pajamas. A white ascot and black patent-leather slippers completed his apparel.
Carol couldn't help but stare at him, not only because he looked so handsome with his hair slightly mussed, but also because it was the very first time that she had ever seen him in anything but business suits or formal dress.
He did considerably staring, too, and for good reason. Neither the nightie nor the negligee, combined, even began to offer her adequate covering. Through the diaphonous garments, he could lasciviously see her jutting breasts and her hard, pointed pink nipples, the shadow triangle of black hair that covered her throbbing crotch, and the pleasure-promising curves of her luscious young body.
If he came to talk, he never got around to it-at least, not for quite some time. Without conscious thought, doing only what her reflexes demanded, Carol took a step toward him. He seemed momentarily paralyzed as if his sense of what was right and wrong were in command of his limbs and body. But then his arms were around her and he was drawing her softness close to his body. She lifted her lips and he brought his mouth down to meet them.
The kiss lasted a long time, bringing her to the brink of the climax that she had so long anticipated would happen. But she didn't want it to happen so casually. Now that the seal had been broken, she wanted to go all the way with him. She wanted that wonderful, big stiffness that burning against her belly, through the thinness of her clothing, inside her.
He brushed the negligee and the strap of her nightie off her right shoulder and put his hot mouth to her naked flesh.
"I love you, Carol darling," he barely whispered, but to her ears the words came like the crescendo of a mighty symphony, complete with violins and harps and timpani. "I don't want you to think of it as cheap ... that I'm just on the make for you...."
Her heart sang right along with the violins as he swept her up in his arms and carried her to the bed. The negligee had fallen open and his mouth, greedy and ravenous, were on her lightly covered, throbbing breasts. Carol clung to him joyously, giving herself up completely to his sucklings, moaning at the sensations that he was bringing her. Try as she did, she failed to hold back her first orgasm. The anxiety, the wanting and the maddening frustrations that she had suffered proved just too much for her and she felt her first climax catch on even before he deposited her on the bed, while he was still carrying her in his arms. True, it was only of the "skimming" variety, with the peak not nearly as high as a full-scale orgasm, but exquisitely gratifying, nonetheless.
Then she was on the bed and his hands were stripping her, and her fingernails were clawing at the bedsheets with impatience. "Oh, hurry, darling," she begged him breathlessly. "Ooohhh, hurry...."
But Quincy wanted to admire each and every delightfully exciting part of her fabulous body as it became bared, kissing her throat, her shoulders, her breasts, her nipples, her navel and then through the silky black forest that grew down between her thighs. But as he started to move his tongue down between them, she grasped his head in both hands and lifted him away. "Oh, God, no, darling," she panted. "I couldn't take it. Not now. I want you. I want to see you."
He drew himself erect and began to pull at his clothes.
Carol's senses whirled as she watched the lines of his strong body become bared. His pajamas bottom was the last to fall and she stared fixedly at his cock. It was huge and intriguing and exciting as it stood up arrogantly out from his flat belly. It was uncircumcised, and Carol felt a hot stab of ecstasy shoot up through her body as she saw the velvety-soft, vermilion glans peeking out wetly from beneath the gripping foreskin. She never knew why, but she had always preferred a man who wasn't circumcised.
He came to her on the bed, their bodies meeting and clinging tightly to each other, their mouths fusing and devouring with unashamed hunger.
She welcomed his kisses and the intimate contacts with his flesh. And then she felt him start to climb atop her and she spread her wet, tingling thighs wide apart so that he could get between them.
Her whole body was alive with a frenzied passion that threatened to eat her alive as she prepared herself for his glorious entry. She was driving herself out of her mind as she watched him position his cock. God-she was hot! Hotter than she had ever been before in her life.
Ooohhh, hurry, my lover ... hurry and put it in me!
She had all that she could do to lie still as she felt the heat of his desire-swollen cock brush lightly against the ultra-sensitive wet lips of her cuntal opening. Up and down the length of her labia the erection went, inching ever so slowly into her velvet-lined trap. Slowly, without him being too acutely aware of it, she lifted herself and sucked him subtly deeper and deeper between the spongy walls of her hotly palpitating cunt until she had devoured his entire blood-bloated length. It was like nothing else-absolutely nothing that she had ever experienced before. No man, out of all she had known, no matter how big or small they might have been, no matter how proficient they may have been in their love-making, had ever even begun to bring her the thrill that Quincy was bringing her now. The difference, of course, was that this was a great deal more than mere physical satisfaction, this was the real thing, this was love!
Carol had him lie still atop her for several long moments, his cock buried inside her so deep that she could feel the tip of it pressing against her womb, while she nibbled at his throbbing flesh with her inner cuntal lips. When he began to move against her, she humped right along with him, falling easily into his rhythm, speeding up when he wanted to, slowing down when he slowed down, until the flame of their passion ignited the tapestry in their minds and they both were suddenly out of control. Then her legs climbed instinctively, finding their way on the backs of his long legs, her hips pounding up at him as fiercely as he was pistoning his big pulsing cock in and out of her warmly wet cuntal channel.
She felt his cock swell inside her and gasped as the first jet of his searing hot sperm spurted into her belly. Then she wrapped her arms and legs around him and clung to him, milking him slowly, lovingly with the band of muscles that encircled the bulging, sensitive knob of his penis. Somewhere along the way, he tripped her mechanism and filled her with exquisite sensations as his bulging cock-head throbbed and rubbed back and forth over the sensitive pearl of her clitoris. Her orgasm was intense, violent, cataclysmic-sending her soaring out of reality....