Chapter 3

In the fourth floor employees' lounge Mona bolted the door and, slipping out of her black wool pants and soiled panties, ran a basin full of hot water, crinkled up a crisp paper towel, dampened it and mopped around the swollen fur-lined lips of her vagina, scrubbing away all the male essence of her adultery. Then, worriedly, she checked to make certain her IUD was still securely in place. To have intercourse with a strange man against her will was bad enough, but to get pregnant by him, that would be nothing short of a Shakespearean tragedy.

Gazing at her own reflection, she used a red lacquered fingertip to wipe away the black clown-like smudges of mascara under her eyes. Deep down in the secret corner of her heart, Mona knew she was a willing adulteress. In this age of frivolous, musical-chairs sexuality, hers was hardly headline news, but the fact that she'd reveled in it was. And all for the sake of a silly sunlamp! Oh, I'll never be that vain again... I promise, dear Lord!

To sweeten her foully defiled body, she dabbed perfume on the wheat-tanned smoothness of her inner thighs and stripped to the waist then, splashing cold water on the swollen welts branded on her breasts by Nick's kneading fingers. Baptized back to purity, she went to find her husband.

The escalator smoothed its descending path to the first floor, setting a weak-kneed Mona at her husband's feet where he leaned against the jewelry counter, a picture of composure. His patient blue eyes that usually asked no questions and expected no lies

seemed to be asking something very specific.

"Darling... I'm sorry, I'm so sorry... I'm sorry I'm l-late, but I had the worst time trying to find somebody to wait on me, and the credit manager... well, I didn't get the sunlamp!" She rolled her turquoise eyes at him and pooched out her pink-glossed lips in the way that always drove Orin crazy.

He didn't say much. Mona slipped her arm under his, ready to go home to a hot bath and a cup of tea. "Look, Bunny, there's no way we're gonna get home tonight in this snowstorm!" His gloved finger pointed to the sheet of snow falling thick and fluffy as the rain of ivory flakes dumped into a washing machine. Accustomed to having her own way, Mona withered at the sight of weather-beaten customers crowding in front of the door, standing in a puddle of muddy water dribbling from their boots.

"What-what are we going to do, Orin? I want to go home!" she wailed, her chin quivering like an animated button. "I've got to get out of here!" She covered her face with her hands and whimpered.

"Now don't get hysterical, honey. We'll have to patient and wait 'til it stops," reasoned Orin in his mellifluous, lullaby voice, casting her a quizzical sideways glance that asked more questions than she cared to answer.

God, he knows! I'm in trouble. I can tell from that glint in his eye. Mona shivered, not from the cold, but from the lingering snaky feel of the credit managers bony hands on her naked body.

Then it sounded, like the voice of God overhead:

The loudspeakers crackled and broke the strains of innocuous hi-fi music filtering throughout the store. "Ladies and gentlemen, Joseph's Department Store is now officially closed to business. We regret to inform you that due to weather conditions, we recommend no one attempt to drive home. Store departments will open to all stranded employees and customers. Complimentary dinner will be served in the Green Leaf Tea Room between seven and nine o'clock. Please stand by for further information..." The gusty male voice clicked off and Montovani's orchestra took his place.

"Oh, Orny!" Mona gasped and bit at her clenched fist. What are we going to do? We'll miss that party and, and..." Her voice was muffled by Orin's sweater where she'd buried her face.

Snowbound in a department store with a man who'd sworn to violate her again or charge her with fraud, causing Orin to lose his business-his life's blood! "Oh, Orin!" She sobbed.

Any fears of being alone in this damnable predicament were dispelled when a beehive of buzzing voices and tromping feet made Mona pull her face from Orin's lamb's wool sweater, and raise her eyes in incredulity as down the escalator tromped a horde of disgruntled, frowning humanity. Employees, hidden away in windowless offices and corner departments, blasted the store's lack of concern. Why weren't we told earlier? The common complaint rippled through the crowd. Straight from the fitting rooms half-dressed customers in stocking feet and crisp clothes fresh from the hangers nodded in agreement. Anger and perplexity rose from the mob in a grey aura of disgust.

At least there's safety in numbers, thought Mona. Nick Harrington won't have a snowball's chance in hell of getting his filthy hands on me with all these people around. Or would he...?

Upstairs in the sealed off privacy of the inner business office, the head manager of Joseph's Department Store poured himself a shot of whiskey before taking care of personal matters.

"You mean that foxy looking tanned blonde bimbo with the big boobs that was just in the office applying for credit?" Hugh Murphy rumbled from deep in his barrel chest, his pale grey eyes watching hungrily as Blanche Harrington, his secretary, leaned over to pick up the wisp of nylon panties she had just shed. Naked now, her curvy, voluptuous body was revealed to him in all its ripely mature beauty. "The one I said looked like a stripper?"

"Yes, that's the one," affirmed Blanche. "He couldn't wait to tell me every little detail about how got her in the mattress warehouse. Boy, sometimes I think he's just trying to make me quit my job here."

It was precisely Nick's philandering that had driven Blanche into Hugh's arms and ultimately to his bed. One year ago she had known Hugh only as her husband's boss. Then one day she'd happened into his office to be greeted by a tear-faced secretary who in a fit of anger dumped her belongings in a box and tromped out the door with Hugh waving his fists after her. Hugh offered Blanche the job, considering her svelte qualifications, and they became close working partners.

Somewhat foolishly, Blanche had let the subject her husband's infidelities slip into the conversation. Hugh had listened attentively and soothed her with a drink or two, and before she knew what was happening, she was in his private office, adjacent to his business office, the very room in which she was now taking off her clothes in willing anticipation. This room contained no desk, but it did have a well-stocked bar, stereo and video machine from which he could watch the activities of his employees... including those of unsuspecting customers in the department fitting rooms!

The couch was an easily convertible bed with a soft mattress... the best Joseph's furniture department had to offer... and it made the change from seductive coaxing, to sexual congress an easy one. Wily-minded Hugh convinced her of the one true way of evening the score with Nick, until at this point, she was well ahead in the race for infidelity.

Blanche looked down at his burly bulk as he lay out full length, naked on his bed, remembering how repulsive she thought his hairy body was when she had lain there nearly petrified with fear that first time as he brought her to searing arousal and ultimately to an earth-shaking climax. Now, she knew every square inch of his body as well as his filing system. Unconsciously, her eyes drifted up to his craggy face, clean shaven and smooth as his bald head. Her eyes locked onto the rock hard massiveness of his erect penis which stood up like a mighty obelisk spearing out of the dense brush of his graying pubic hair. From his private papers she'd learned his age was fifty-eight, though he hadn't slowed down sexually one pace. He was married, too, to a dark haired beauty

named Sondra who represented his third (or fourth?) attempt at matrimony. If there were other women in Hugh's life, she didn't know and knew better than to probe. Hugh had made that point clear... forceful so, but she guessed he probably did bring other women into this room. Of course she'd never know: the man was tight-lipped and secretive, and perhaps that aura of secrecy surrounding him kept her coming back to his bed.

"Did you say her name was Mona Bradley?" Hugh queried, taking Blanche into his bearish arms as came to the bed and crawled up on top of him, lowering her mouth to his and accepting his slithering tongue into the sweetness of her mouth while at the same she spread her thighs, then clamped them tightly as she captured the jackstaff of his pulsating cock in the fleshy trap between them. It lay hard and throbbing up against the naked pink flesh of her bedewed pussy.

"That's what her credit application said," she mumbled into his mouth as he flexed his hips, rubbing the thick base of his heated cock on the throbbing, vibrant shaft of her fully awakened clitoris.

Blanche felt the tingling tickle of his extremely hairy chest against the sensitive buds of her erect little nipples, and she moved them in a short repeated arc, back and forth across his chest, reveling in the tantalization. Before she had begun the affair with her

boss, she hadn't known that her breasts were so sensitive.

Hugh's paw-like hands roamed caressingly up and down her back, paying special attention to the round, protruding globes of her pliantly soft and smooth buttocks as he cupped them up, then pinched and massaged them, making ridges of her silky flesh ooze like white butter through his strong fingers. He felt her ripely naked loins undulating counteringly, as she began to slide her moistly naked cunt up and down the rock hard shaft of his cock.

Breaking the deep kiss, he rumbled in his deep bass voice; "You can go down on me this time, doll..."

"Ohhh, goood!" she breathed, agreeing instantly and giving him a bright smile. What she had learned in the months since she had been working here in Hugh's office, was that her willingness, her efforts to please him, had a direct effect upon her and Nick's standard of living. Hugh wasn't a cheap employer and raises came easily... if one followed the unspoken rules. Yet to this day, Blanche failed to decipher what her husband had ever done to warrant a raise.

She slithered nakedly down over him, pausing for a moment to lick and suck at each of his tiny nipples, burrowing down through the thick hair fuzzing his chest to get at them. Blanche knew of his secret fetish, so she bore the intense tickling his kinky chest hair produced on her lips and nose. It was a small favor in return for the complete satisfaction he gave her each time they fucked.

Hugh moaned his satisfaction with her as she knelt subserviently-her heavily ripened breasts swaying like fruit ready to be plucked-between his wide-spread legs. In one hand she held the lust-thickened shaft of his purple veined cock, while the other reached under to caress his hairy, sperm-laden balls. In spite of the erotic pleasure her feathered touch brought him, Hugh's mind was on other matters. Changes of which, Blanche was ignorant, were in the offing.

At the last board of directors meeting, he'd strongly recommended that Nick Harrington be considered for their new store opening in Fairbanks, Alaska, and it looked certain he would be transferred. In a way, Hugh hated to promote Harrington out of state, for certainly Blanche would follow. But hell... gotta tend to business!

Nakedly kneeling below him, Blanche had sucked one of his egg-sized testicles into her soft warm mouth and was gently laving it with her velvety tongue. His hands went down to her jet-black hair to smooth and caress her. In the next few moments, she had likewise sucked on his other sperm-filled ball. The feel of her hot mouth working down there between his legs gave him a whole series of erotic sensations. Then, she was licking him, her tongue flicking back along the sensitive flesh behind his scrotum until she was moistly nudging her tongue tip into the sensitive, puckered ring of her anus. He moaned and writhed under the electric charge of it, groaning. "God, Baby... that's it! Damned nice!" His wildly aching cock throbbed and lurched involuntarily... and after a minute, he gasped: "That's enough, Blanche."

His hands on her head pulled her wetly probing tongue away, then he guided her hungrily open mouth toward the bloated purple head of his pulsating cock. Her smoke-grey eyes bored up at him sexily as she murmured, "That must have given you a charge!"

"You know damned well it did! My cock yelled for attention!"

"Mmmmmmm!" she mumbled unintelligibly as her sensuous lips ovaled and slowly slid down over the heatedly pulsing head of his penis, her wet little tongue instantly beginning to swirl around the smooth, satiny flesh. One hand held the long thick shaft, while her other caressed his scrotal sac, scratching lightly with her sharp fingernails. Every now and then, she slid her middle finger back and under a little farther to press against the saliva-moistened flesh of his anus. All these tricks were things that Hugh

Murphy had taught her... small details that were a large part of her job description as his private secretary.

The audacity of lying there naked on top of the top man in Joseph's Department Store while his wife Sondra browsed through the racks of designer-made dresses down on second excited Blanche Harrington to lustful heights and, with renewed vigor, she licked at her boss's purpled knobbed cock as if it were heaven-sent nectar. Soon his cum would be hosing into her mouth, and obediently she would gulp it down, then lick him clean.

Often, she wondered how Sondra would react were she cognizant of Blanche's dedication to her employer. And, that matter, how would she, Blanche, respond if Hugh would refuse her admittance to his private office in favor of another woman's body.

After one year of faithful service to the bearish man, wasn't it time she found out?