Chapter 1
"I have to go to the bathroom, Mr. Daniels," I said, peering around the entrance to his office. He looked up and frowned at me but even he couldn't override nature's laws. I walked down the long corridor, past a line of desks arranged in perfect lines outside the offices of executives, a secretary at each desk, typing, filing, or looking busy. Voices droned into Dictaphones, men conferred about insurance matters, the water coolers stood desolately in their niches, and it was all systems go at Porter Assurance Ltd.
Only one of the cubicles in the bathroom was occupied. I took the one next to it-and fit up a cigarette. The smoke went down smoothly and livened my system up a bit The boredom of the job was killing me by inches and these little private moments on the john were all that was keeping me above water.
Was this the way I'd spend the rest of my life? Hell, I was nineteen and had nothing going for me but a business school diploma. Porter Assurance Ltd. paid me well, I had a nice studio apartment, a few dollars in the bank...but oh! the boredom of it all! All the men were over forty and married to the point of slavery; and all the women were under twenty, too naive to buck the system.
My thoughts wandered from one area of discontentment to the next. I lit another cigarette to stock up on nicotine, because smoking at one's desk was prohibited. And then, for no reason, I realized that the woman in the cubicle next to mine wasn't doing anything. There was no hiss, no plopping, not even the sharp intake of smoke. What could she be doing? I leaned down and peeked under the partition. Her panties were around her ankles, draped decoratively over her bright green platform shoes. With shoes like that she could only be Amy, the office rebel. Her boss disapproved of her dress, her "meretriciousness" as he called it, but Amy took no notice. I was about to strike up a conversation with her when I heard a strange little sound. "Ooohhh!" she moaned, ever so softly. I pricked up my ears, hardly able to believe them. It was very still in the bathroom. A new sound reached my ears, a faint rubbing, chafing sound, and then a wet little squelch. "Mmmmm-oohhh!" My heart beat faster as I realized that Amy was playing with herself right next to me! How could she!
Not that I hadn't done that to myself. Sometimes I felt so strange and empty that I had to masturbate, but I wouldn't do it anywhere but in the privacy of my studio. After all, what if someone caught you at it? I was willing to bet that Amy would be embarrassed if she knew I knew. In that case, why did she live so dangerously? I looked under the partition again. Her legs were spread far apart now and her panties were on the floor. She had to be half off the John to maintain that position and my imagination quickly filled in what my eyes couldn't see. Amy had long legs and a slender body with small breasts and a boyish ass, features that she displayed to their best advantage by wearing clinging, silky dresses and those gaudy platforms. Her hair was cropped close to her head and very blonde, streamlining her small head and long neck so as to give her the appearance of a sleek animal of prey. When she moved about the office the staid executives shook their heads and clucked their tongues, but I was sine they were all willing to part with a testicle just to spend a night with her.
Amy was in full swing now. I could hear her finger rotate over her clitoris clearly and her moans were more than audible. Suddenly she let out a loud gasp and rubbed harder, then everything stopped. She lit a cigarette and rested. I sat very still and hoped she wouldn't notice that I was in the bathroom with her, and I remained frozen in the one position until she had washed her hands and left. With trembling fingers I lit my third cigarette and tried to steady myself. For some reason my body was in an uproar. My pussy was sopping wet and I hadn't even touched myself! The image of Amy playing with herself burned before my mind's eye and aroused me from head to toe! Why? Was it her daring that impressed me? I couldn't think straight, but the urge to try it myself was very strong.
In the past I had masturbated to the tune of a specific fantasy, and before I started anything I rummaged about in my memory banks to find a good one. Without a dream there wasn't any point to trying to get off. But nothing appealed to me...nothing but Amy's daring, that is. When I thought of her jerking off so boldly and openly my cunt began to quail and my clitoris grew hard and hot, and my nipples pressed urgently against the bra I wore for the sake of office policy. Absently I let my hand go down to my pussy and it caressed that hard little ' knob lightly, stroking it until it was too late. I couldn't stop now. A few more caresses and I dropped the lighted cigarette into the bowk I sat forward and leaned back against the cistern. Now I was getting the beat of it. Rubbing, relaxing, thinking about Amy and her long legs, her panties draped over her platform shoes, thinking about her finger between her labia, her emotions, her fantasies, getting hotter and wetter by the second, squirming about on the uncomfortable toilet seat, moaning to relieve myself of an excess of pleasure, digging a finger into my virginal hole and contracting my cuntal muscles all around it, wondering, dreaming, squeezing my tits through the stiffness of the bra cups, and coming with a force that almost toppled me off the toilet!
Sobriety returned in its own good time, and I found myself blushing at my own madness. One last cigarette, then I hitched my panties back up and washed the hand that had groped about in my pussy so shamelessly, If Mr. Daniels got a whiff of that there was no telling how he would react. That is, if he recognized the aroma, of course. I grinned, suddenly pleased with myself. Porter Assurance could keep me in my place behind the typewriter, it could make me dress like a wimp five days a week, and force me to be polite and deferential to the executives-but there was nothing the company could do about my private moments in the bathroom! On the way back to my desk I passed Amy. The sleek blonde looked at me searchingly for a moment, or so it seemed to me, then she smiled and went about her business. I blushed again and hurried back to my allotted place.
Mr. Darnels complained that I smelled of cigarettes and as a punishment he loaded me up with work, but I put up with it all in a land of dreamy trance. My body felt in tune and my rebellious behavior had given me a sense of self-esteem that had been missing for the year at Porters. As soon as lunch rolled up I left the typewriter with a half-completed letter stuck in the roller, and walked out. Never had I been so slap-dash about my work, but the day was special.
The other girls repaired to a nearby restaurant where they could get martinis with their cottage cheese and lettuce lunches. A lot of them returned to work with a strange glitter in their eyes and a flush in their cheeks. But I wasn't interested in food or drink. I went walking in order to straighten my thoughts out.
Fifth Avenue was packed with people just like me and the executives I worked with. To escape them I turned a few corners and headed further downtown, all the way to Times Square. Squalor and variety, pushy signs, a focus on cunt, wrecked people and horny readers of adult literature, pimps and whores, cops and cops, everyone partaking of the armpit ambience. Men stared at me with palpable lust, a few approached me and asked if I wanted my pussy licked. Yes, but not by them. I didn't say that, of course, I just put my nose up into the air and walked on. But secretly it delighted me to be so naughty and brave. Did Amy dare to venture into this area?
"Hey, miss, excuse me!" someone called out. I kept walking. "Miss, please don't ignore me, I have an offer for you!" A man rushed up to me and blocked my way. On his shoulder he supported a movie camera, a sight that soothed my suspiciousness to the point at which I became willing to look at the rest of him. He had longish hair, dark and curly, and intense eyes, a corduroy jacket and faded jeans, cowboy boots, simple but expensive attire I decided, no ass. "Come over to the side," he said, taking me by the hand and leading me out of the mainstream. "There, that's better. My name is Jack and I make loops."
"How wonderful for you," I said dryly.
"Do you know what loops are?" I shook my head. "They're short films of beautiful women in various stages of undress.. I'm willing to pay you thirty bucks, of course, but apart from that I think you owe it to the world to display your beauty. You really are a lovely woman. Have you done any modeling? No? Well, you should. Perhaps a session with me will give you the boost you need. Now I see you're looking at me warily, and I don't blame you. But I assure you this is a legitimate offer, the money's up front, I do this all the time and no one has ever complained about me." He talked fast and smoothly and I could tell he was well educated. Was he spinning me a line? Then what did he carry that big camera about for? That thing must have cost him a pretty penny; no matter how desperate a man was he wouldn't spend thousands just to get laid. And he was good looking; he didn't need to resort to extremes. Once I had resolved that I nodded and said it would be okay-but I hadn't really dealt with the idea of taking my clothes off in front of a stranger and a camera.
That hit me as we ascended the stairs to his apartment It was a clean, well-kept building and his place was stylishly furnished, if messy. When he closed the door I became acutely aware of being at his mercy, and I didn't like it. "What's your name?" he asked, his intense dark eyes boring into mine.
"Gena," I said. Wherever I looked I saw evidence of his filmmaking. Empty boxes, canisters, outtakes, a small editing table, and reels of film hanging from hooks above the table. Jack was in the business up to his eyeballs, but still I felt distinctly uneasy. He loaded his camera and checked the battery that operated the fight on top of it. I felt as though I was in the dentist's chair watching him put a new bit into the drill.
"There, all set," he said breezily. "Now let's get an idea of your posture, your body, yes, yes, that's good, excellent, turn to the side now, straighten up a little, oh beautiful! Yes, that's perfect, let me get a shot of you that way, push your breasts out and your ass back, yes, wow! I can feel myself getting aroused! And you've still got all your clothes on! Could you unbutton your blouse a little, just a. few buttons, that's it, one more, one more, great, terrific, they look really big and firm; let me get a better shot of them."
He talked and talked, directing me to do this and that, and each time I went to protest he had me doing something else! Before I knew what had happened I had my blouse unbuttoned and hanging open, and Jack ran his hand over the swelling of flesh over the tops of my bra, praising my form and volume as if he was talking about a show dog! No man had touched my breasts! And yet he had touched me without asking me or wining and dining me! How could he do things like that?
"Great, baby, great, let's get a shot of that." His camera whirred briefly and then he moved my blouse over one shoulder. "Wow, look at those curves! What a stomach you've got, really nice, perfect, wait, let me move your bra up and out of the way." Before I could stop him he pushed the bra up so my tits suddenly sprang into view and pushed out at him like two wantons! "Jesus, look at that!" he moaned, turning his camera on me and taking a good long shot of them. "Those are the finest tits I've seen in months! So white and ripe, nipples as pink as a baby's bottom, mmmm! Let's get rid of that blouse and bra altogether, a good clear shot...yes, that's good, that's good, I love it, let me kiss you right there!" His lips touched one of my nipples, sucked it in and held it for a second, then he was back at work.
It was all going too fast for me! He had touched my tits and kissed them, and I found myself standing half naked in the middle of a stranger's living room, and it was high time I got back to work too! What was I to do? I couldn't interrupt his loop halfway through but I did think it was necessary that he be told. "I don't have much time, Jack, so.. . "
"Oh sure, baby, no trouble, this won't take long. Listen, to save some time why don't you take off your skirt and shoes, good girl, and the pantyhose too. Right, good, terrific, what a shot!" Was I going crazy? Now he had me down to my panties! "You wear panties under pantyhose, huh? Clever, you can't be too careful these days what with all those patent leather shoes. Now sit on the couch, no, not like you've come for tea, relax, recline, luxuriate, smile for the camera and keep your legs slightly open, a bit more, oh yeah, that's it, that's it, the magic wand tells me so." He was getting hot so he interrupted himself briefly to take off his shirt. The camera went back on his shoulder and he filmed me all over, close-ups of my tits, the crotch of my panties, my thighs, feet, belly, nipples, and as the big round lens swept past me I felt the shakes starting up. He had a good body, strong, tanned, a fluff of hair in the center of his chest and a thin trail of it creeping out of his pants to his navel. My mind was in such disarray that I began to wonder what was in his pants. I had only seen my father naked in any detail and that brown snake dangling between his hairy thighs had mesmerized me without actually appealing to me. Would Jack's be the same?
As if he had read my thoughts he undid the belt and the zipper of his pants and let them fall to the floor. He didn't wear underpants, that I noticed right away, but my eyes couldn't focus on what I was seeing. There was a dark patch of hair and something swung off that patch, something big and thick. Actually two things. Slowly I made out the specific forms, a thick, flaccid cock and a heavy ball bag, brown and hairy except for the end of his cock which was smooth and quite rosy. Just like Daddy! I blushed violently and averted my eyes. Now what was he going to do? Would he stick it into me?
"Now the finale!" He sounded breathless and his cock seemed to be growing bigger. "The panties, come on, come on, get them off!" I couldn't refuse him, much as I wanted to. I felt sure he'd be able to tell that I had been playing with myself, the clitoris would be too red or there might still be juice around the lips. But I shimmied out of them and sat with my legs tightly pressed together, very ashamed of myself now. "Good, good, now open your legs very slowly, get some suspense into it, time it so they'll all go crazy when they finally see it, yes, yes, slowly, slowly, smile for the camera, run your tongue along your lips, beautiful, yes baby, do it for the camera, think of the pulsating masses, think of the men panting to get into your beautiful pink treasure chest, to stick fingers and tongues into you! Think about it imagine them, imagine how they feel, give them as much as you can now, move your hips, yes, good, terrific, shake them a little, push them up at the camera!"
His instructions bypassed my brain and affected secret parts of me that moved me to undreamed of extremes. There was something about "them," the people who would view this loop, that excited me beyond reason. Yes, they deserved all I could give them, they would see what pussy was all about. The camera came in very close to my cunt, moving in between my wide open thighs like a giant cock, and something snapped in me. "Come on!" I gasped, reaching out for the camera with all my limbs. "I want it so, yes, give it to me, come right in! Oooohhhh, closer, closer!" My whole body shook and alternated between hot and cold, my hips were moving sensually at the camera's lens, inviting it inside, fucking at it, and I could hear my cunt smack its lips wetly as it prepared for penetration. Jack was hard as a board now and I was awed by the size of his cock. It stood up, leaning to his left, and the veins girding the shaft throbbed heavily. His rosy knob was a darker hue now and much bigger, shining under his light, and for some reason the sight of it made my mouth water. What was happening! I thought of Amy and her tiny moans, I thought of myself sprawling all over the John and-digging fingers into my cunt, and then I turned my attention to that round, black, ominous lens almost touching my cunt and I felt faint all over!
"Turn over on your belly, baby, show the world what a beautiful ass you have. Wow! Look at those orbs! Yeah, baby, move 'em, shake 'em, they're going to love you for every quiver! Now get into the doggie position, split your cheeks wide open and look back at the camera, smile, lick your lips, you're beautiful, beautiful!" The cold lens touched my ass for a second and my cunt contracted in a spasm of ecstasy. The juices were running down my legs by this time and his camera must have caught every sparkling drop of it. I was coming for the world at large! Now that I had my back to the camera it became an even more delicious threat. He could shove it up me without my knowing about it until the last moment, which meant that at any tick of the clock I could expect to feel his rosy, swollen knob against my cunt. I longed for him to fuck me, but it was an abstract feeling, something which had more to do with the spirit of the occasion than Jack personally. But nothing happened. Jack kept on filming and he instructed me to strike different poses.
Toward the end of the reel I was lying on my back on the couch with my legs up in the air and wide apart, my hands holding my cunt open and my hips jerking up and down. Jack operated his camera with one hand and stroked his cock with the other. It was very hot now and my body glistened with sweat, as did his. We functioned as two parts of the one whole, him filming and getting off on me, me being filmed and making love to him and his camera. He trained the lens on my pussy and told me to masturbate. For the second time that day I brought my fingers down to the top of my slit and rubbed them in small circles over my exposed clitoris, slowly at first, speeding up as the passion flared higher. "Finger yourself!" said Jack. He was on his knees behind the coffee table and his camera rested on the table top, focused in on my cunt. Now he was able to jack off with all his might, stroking and rubbing his stiff cock while his eyes were riveted on the finger plunging into my cunt. I watched him just as closely, amazed at the sight of a man masturbating. Not only hadn't I seen that before, I hadn't even dreamed that men did that sort of thing.
"Not long now, baby!" he panted. "We're almost out of film!" He checked the camera and peered at me through the view finder, then hurried over to kneel on the couch beside me. "Let's go!" He rubbed harder, his back hunched, biting his lower lip, and his verve infected me to finger myself harder and to titillate my clitoris with the other hand. "Yes, yes, YEEEESSSSSS!! " he yelled, his hand a blur now. "Here it comes, baby, HERE COMES, COME WITH ME, AAAARRGGHHH!! " White fluid shot out of his cock and landed on my belly. It was warm and slippery and it burst out of his swollen knob in thick dollops. That excited me so much that I rubbed it into my skin and came with a bang. Just then the camera clicked over and the whirring stopped, and Jack got to his feet wearily.
"That just goes to show," he said, more to himself than to me, "when you think you're cool something happens to break the illusion. I haven't been so excited for months!"
"Since the girl with tits like mine?" I asked. I felt very contented, not at all ashamed of myself. My body seemed to enjoy these ventures into erotica, and in the back of my mind I had already resolved to do more of the same. Jack turned and gave me a strange look, nodded, and got to work on his camera. I found a Kleenex and wiped the sperm off my belly before getting dressed.
"Listen, before you go, here's my card. I want another session with you real soon. Can you give me your phone number?"
"I'll give you my office number." Now that I was dressed again I felt much more composed, less vulnerable to him. I gave him the number and he paid me for the session. The money was incidental but I took it anyway.
"There's more where that came from," he pointed out "With your body and your natural sensuality you could clean up in skin flicks, baby. Hell, loops are only the beginning! It's a sort of apprenticeship, you know, and as far as I'm concerned you're ready to break into the big time right now. But that's up to you."
I'll think about it." At that moment I just wanted to get back into the street so I could think about what had happened. A look at my watch made me. all the more anxious to get out of his place. I was ten minutes late, already! Mr. Daniels was going to be a real grouch now. To save time I took a cab back and used some money from my wages of sin to pay for it
It was weird to walk into the quiet building after what Jack had put me through. Suddenly I saw my co-workers through different eyes. The older employees were dead! They went about their chores without a spark of life in them, they addressed each other like automatons, and they even smelled of death. Stale, musky, and damp people! Wherever I looked I saw the same abysmal sights, Only the secretaries stood out of this creeping fungus, but they were surrounded and would one day be swallowed up by it all.
"So there you are!" Mr. Daniels stood at the entrance to his office, his arms folded, his stereotypical bureaucrat's face pinched into a frown. "Twenty minutes late! Do you think everyone can wait on you, Miss Rogers? Aren't the company's hours satisfactory to you?"
"Yes," I said blankly. Ordinarily I would have scurried over to my desk to start typing furiously, but this time his words struck no cord in me. He looked such a fool from where I was standing.
"That letter, which you did not see fit to finish, is needed! And now!" he said. I sat down and continued typing while he stood behind me and breathed heavily. From the corner of my eye I could see Amy watching the spectacle. I winked at her and she winked back. That made me feel better. His presence was angering me, I wanted to shove the typewriter up his ass, but Amy understood and that discharged the emotion. "Thank you," he said stiffly when I handed him the letter. "Please see to it that this doesn't happen again."
"Fuck you," I said under my breath. Amy must have seen my lips move because she let out a peal of laughter. Mr. Daniels turned to look at her, but he. didn't understand the undercurrents in the office, so he returned to his sanctum and left me to glare at the work that had piled up. I didn't want to type anymore. Dammit, I'd made thirty bucks in an hour, and it had been exciting, adventurous-everything this job wasn't! I did my best to bend my mind back to the office routine but it proved impossible. At last
I wandered over to Amy's desk with a folder in my hand in case someone asked what I was doing there.
"I had a really strange experience today," I told her, and when she looked interested I told her the whole story. As the tale went on her eyes grew bigger and bigger, and at last she shook her head incredulously.
"No! You did that? Why, Gena, I thought your heart was in a convent! And this guy comes up to you and-Jesus Christ, that's terrific! I can't tell you how I admire you for that"
"You do?"
"Sure! Hey, listen, when you go next time take me with you, okay? I have to do something outrageous just to keep from losing my mind. This job is too much for me."
"I know what you mean." I went back to work quickly because Mr. Daniels emerged to glare at me some more. What a pain in the ass he was! Later in the afternoon he called me in to take dictation and he talked deliberately fast so I couldn't keep up with him. He unbraided me roundly and warned me that my job was in jeopardy. "But I don't want to go abroad!" I quipped, and all I got in return was an angry glare. Why did he dislike me so much, I wondered. I did my work as well as any secretary, nothing special but efficient. For most of the year I'd spent working for him I hadn't made any major errors. So what was his problem? Because my day had been such a peculiar one I decided to ask him.
Mr. Daniels was taken aback by the question but he rallied quickly. "Miss Rogers, you seem to misunderstand me. I have nothing against you personally.
In fact, I don't regard you in a personal light. I am an executive with this company and it is my responsibility to see that the work gets done. When you arrive late I must take you to task. It's as simple as that." He dismissed me with a wave of his hand and I took my notes to the typewriter to transcribe them. What had I expected of him, anyway? A confession of mental illness? It didn't pay to be human in this place, that was all there was to it. I couldn't concentrate on my notes at all. Flashes of Jack and his camera, my emotions, Amy, sex, interfered with me. I sat behind the typewriter and felt my pussy grow hot and wet again. Was it possible to have a sex life and a job at the same time?
The president's secretary came down the corridor and she stopped at each desk to tell the others a piece of news. When she came to me she repeated it: "There'll be a party after work. Mr. Porter is celebrating his fiftieth birthday and he wants all the staff to assemble in his suite. But please don't forget to punch out first."
"A party? Here?" I looked over at Amy and she seemed as stunned as I was. The president's secretary didn't answer, she walked on to the next desk. A distraction at last! I managed to get on with the job and by the time the day was over I was abreast of it all. Amy and I took the elevator up to the penthouse suite together and speculated about the party. Neither of us had very high hopes for it. I thought we'd all be issued a hot cross bun and a can of soda, but Amy said I was optimistic. However, when we walked into the palatial suite maintained by Brian Porter III, we saw that nothing had been spared.
Champagne bottles in ice buckets, hors d'oeuvres aplenty, valets and maids, the works!
When everyone had assembled in the suite, Brian Porter III walked in, tanned, handsome, silver-haired, and smiling the smile of success. We all applauded and toasted him, and he accepted it as his due. The executives were quick to sidle over to him and to make themselves agreeable, while the lower echelons split into small cliques and made the best of the refreshments. A small dance band took over one corner of the room and struck up something nondescript, but no one danced. Instead they used the music as a cover for their gossip.
At the height of the party there must have been some two hundred people in that big room, each one of them talking and drinking. Mr. Porter stood out among the multitude, radiant with money and confidence, and I noticed a lot of the girls were looking toward him with some hope. If only he would pick me, they seemed to be thinking, then I would never have to touch a typewriter again! Just a nod, a simple "I do," and one's whole life would be changed! Yachts, beautiful people, hot spots, clothes and jewelry, living on that rarified plane to which Brian Porter III and his ilk had the key.
Amy and I stood to one side and observed the goings-on. A few drinks were working their magic. Stuffy executives were turning into male impersonators before our very eyes. And from among their number came Mr. Daniels himself. His tie had been slightly loosened and he held a tall drink in one hand. He had his eye on me, I could tell that right away, and my first impulse was to hide behind Amy.
But it was too late. "Hello, Miss Rogers," he said, speaking with a slight slur. "Take this down, please. Miss Rogers, full stop-I mean, comma! ha ha ha...Miss Rogers, comma, you look ravishing. Full stop. May I have this dance, question mark?"
"Why, certainly," I said uncertainly. He put his arm about my waist and swept me off to the dance floor, still holding his glass with his free hand. I couldn't adjust to this change in roles. There was my stuffed shirt boss with his glittering spectacles and his wear-ever business suit waltzing me about the floor! His body was very close to mine and there was something solid in his lap that pushed into my belly. The only way to deal with it was to keep back and dance, but each time I pulled back he tightened his grip on me and pushed his cock against me harder. The man was horny! And I hadn't even imagined that he had a cock to get horny with. When the band finished its set he walked me back to where Amy was standing and offered to get us both a drink.
"Boy, is he after your ass!" exclaimed Amy as she watched my boss teeter toward the bar. "I thought he was going to rape you on the dance floor right in front of BP III! Everyone was watching you two, did you know that?"
"Oh God no!" I wouldn't have minded if it had been BP III if only because it would have turned the other girls green with envy. But Daniels! He came back with three drinks, spilling them as he proceeded toward us, but he didn't care.
"Miss Rogers, may I call you Gena? Thank you very much. Gena, I want to tell you...I want you to know that I'm...well, nuts about you. There's no use in hiding from the truth. Ever since you began to work under me I've adored you slavishly. Yes, you're surprised, I knew you would be. But it's the truth, I want you, I must have you!" He was standing very close to me again and ignored Amy altogether. She had heard his every word and stood by to rescue me if necessary. "Let's go to the office and talk about this some more," said Mr. Daniels. He was leaning all over me and his hands were wandering over parts of me that had been virgin territory until I'd met Jack. I figured it was better to get out of the public eye because nothing could stop the man at this point
"Is it all right if my friend comes with me?" Yes, anything, just as long as I came downstairs with him. Amy and I exchanged winks and led him to the elevator. She whispered that I should follow her lead when we got to the office and I nodded my agreement. The few drinks I'd had made me courageous enough to face anything! Amy closed the office door behind us and locked it securely. Mr. Daniels stood by his desk and looked at us with all the glee of a birthday boy. "Well, here we are," I said, "now what happens?"
"I don't know," he said. "I'm overcome, honestly, I just don't know!"
"In that case well have to be the bold ones," said Amy, and to my surprise she began to undress. Mr. Daniels froze when he saw what she was doing, and when I started to take my clothes off his eyes almost popped out of his head. Neither of us said anything.
Once we were naked we did a few turns for him and the jerking erection under his pants told us we were affecting him just the way we were supposed to. "Now then," said Amy, "how about you, big fella?" Mr. Daniels opened his mouth to speak but only disconnected syllables came out. "Okay, well do it," said my new friend, and she kneeled down in front of him. Her face rested against that big, restless bulge in his pants as her hands reached for his belt. Mr. Daniels managed to find support on the desk behind him, and he stared at the girl as though he couldn't believe his eyes. Amy opened his zip and reached in to extricate his dick. I came closer to check and see if it was like my father's or Jack's. It wasn't dissimilar but it was paler and longer, not quite as thick, and the foreskin hadn't been cut.
"Mmmmmmmmmm, delicious!" crooned Amy. Her tongue leaped out at the fluted prepuce and licked it round and round before digging into the circle of skin to get at his glans. Mr. Daniels closed his eyes and sighed deeply. There was utter contentment on his face. I wondered what I could contribute to his surprise party but Amy had his cock all to herself and besides that I didn't know what to do with cocks. By watching her I learned quite a lot, though. She spiraled all the way down his cock and back up again, running her tongue along his pale skin to get at his balls before moving right up. And when she had reached the top her hand closed around his erection and pulled the skin back with a jerk to expose the rosy knob all the way. Now her lips pouted and closed around that helmet-shaped thing, sucking on it and wetting it before moving on down. At first she took no more than an inch, perhaps two, into her mouth, but as I watched she worked her face back and forth and with each move she swallowed some more of him. Mr. Daniels was very red and his breathing was rapid. I began to wish I could do things like that to men.
Amy's fist was clenched around the base of his cock and it moved up and down in time with her sucking. Mr. Daniels looked at her, then at me, and his eyes rolled back into his head as his body began to shudder and sweat. He was losing control, I could tell that. His cock began to sink deeper into Amy's mouth; he was fucking her face and she was doing her best to accommodate him. How could she do that? I tried to imagine that long cock pushing down my throat and I felt sure I'd have to gag. But Amy was cool and in charge. She sucked my boss' cock until he was cramping and groaning, holding her head so he could fuck her face all the harder, looking at me as if to stimulate himself visually. Suddenly he let out a hoarse cry and I saw Amy's cheeks billow with a load. He was shooting his wad! And she was drinking it! I didn't know what to make of that. Half of me was thrilled, the other half repelled.
"Okay, Gena, let's go." Amy wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and licked the traces of sperm off. "We mustn't over-expose ourselves. Are you okay, Mr. Daniels?"
"Yes, yes, fine-but don't go yet, stay a while; we could have such fun. Please Gena, don't put your clothes on yet!" He was pleading with me and I felt badly for him, but Amy insisted with a look that I do as she say. We dressed hurriedly, fixed our hair, and left the boss standing against his desk, his cock drooping out of his fly, pleading with us to stay. But we had a party to go to.