Chapter 3

Tony reached into the top of my kimono robe and put his hand on my bosom.

At his touch, my nipples came alive.

They tingled, then got stiff. His hand was between the inside of the robe and my flesh, and slid glidingly across my breasts.

He took hold of a stiff nipple and played with it

I opened my legs for the hand be put between them.

We stood on the floor at the foot of the fold-out bed, embracing.

His front pressed mine. I rubbed my hips against his groin. I felt motion there.

He took his hand out of my robe, freeing both hands to hold me while we kissed.

His mouth was very kissable....

He rubbed the line of my back and reached for my rear. He patted my ass and took hold of the bottom cheeks, one in each hand.

I have a very sensitive and sensual bottom, and having it stroked and petted makes the juices flow inside my pussy.

As they now were flowing.

Good to be with a man I really wanted it excited me.

Tony lives hand to mouth, and if it wasn't for subsidies from home,r he surely would be unable to continue living in the city.

He has few prospects, is charming but penniless. Careerwise, there's nothing he could do for me ... which makes me like him all the more.

After all, even for a girl like me, with ambitions, it can't be all work and no play. Sometimes I have to let my hair down and just plain have some fun.

Another thing I like about Tony is that he wants nothing from me but my body. Of course, he's very greedy for that ... which is fine.

So, I would give him a taste (and more!) of what we both really wanted.

My nipples felt so stiff that they smarted with soreness. My breasts pressed his chest, flattening against them and shivering as I breathed.

Where my hips pressed his groin, I felt he was hard.

I took a little step back from him and unwrapped the package.

I unknotted the sash of the kimono robe and opened it down the front. I swept back the twin halves of the robe to display myself.

Under the robe I was naked, and all of that was exposed.

He saw my high firm shapely breasts, with their stiff nipples; my long lean torso, widening at the hips; my pussy; my naked white thighs.

I pulled the garment off my shoulders and let it slip to the floor.

I pressed against him, pulling at the sweater which he wore.

He wrestled it off and was naked from the waist up, showing his fine form.

I got down on the fold-out bed and crawled to the head of it, where what was the couch's back of the seat had become the bed's headboard.

Sheets covered the mattress, clean and smooth and white. My limbs rustled on them.

Tony stood at the foot of the bed and took off his jeans.

He wasn't wearing any underwear beneath them.

His belly was flat and under it rose a horn of flesh that was his stiff penis. It was red, thick, circumcised, swollen.

His erection bobbed as he padded, nude, to the table, reaching for the lamp to switch it off. "No," I murmured, "Leave it on."

"All right," he agreed.

He was a fine figure of a man, a gorgeous male animal, and I wanted to feast my eyes on his masculine beauty while we made love.

My arms-and legs were open from him. I sat up and reached for him, taking his hand to pull him down to the bed.

Flesh massaged naked flesh as he lay down alongside me and pressed me.

His penis was wonderfully stiff, yet smooth and sleek where it rubbed me.

We kissed, and all of me was open to him. He kissed his way down from my mouth to my neck, top of my chest, then my breasts.

He rolled me on my back and my breasts were open and offered to him.

He nuzzled them, pressing his face from side to side. My nipples throbbed as his face rolled over across them.

He pressed many hot kisses on the breasts. Where his lips had been, his tongue followed, and he licked them all over.

My breasts were sticky with saliva when he took hold of one, gripping it so that its nipple jutted from the top of his hand.

Holding it in place, he licked it many times, his tongue flickering like a snake's.

My breasts were super-sensitive, and when they were kissed, I could feel the rushes all the way down into my pussy.

Which was also super-sensitive....

He kept on kissing his way down my body.

"Ummmmm, yes, that's so' nice," I murmured, "don't stop...."

"I won't...."

"Ummmm, do my pussy...."

Ordinarily, I would have been happy to take him by mouth and suck him off, and I might yet, but for now I just wanted to be done, not to do.

I had done when I was with Stan Simmons. Now, I would be the one to lay back and be pleasured, an erotic task Tony was only too happy to carry out.

As he kissed his way down my body, he slid on his belly on the bed, so that finally he lay on his belly with his upper body stretched between my legs.

And his head poised over my pussy.

He nuzzled the mound and the pubic bush, inhaling the scent of my sex.

I reached down and fondled his thick fair hair, caressing it.

He held my hips and pressed hot kisses on my pussy.

I squealed softly the first time he kissed me there, and as he continued, my sighs and gasps got louder and more prolonged.

He kissed the pussy lips until they were warm and then hot.

I felt all dreamy and floating....

His tongue returned where his lips had been, and where he had kissed me, he now licked me, with slow gliding strokes of his tongue.

I rocked my hips and rubbed my pussy in response.

He pressed his tongue against the slit and pushed it inside me.

I gasped from pleasure as I was penetrated by his tongue.

Inside the slit, I was moist and sticky. As his tongue worked, I got hotter and wetter, juices oozing from the membranes.

His parted lips were pressed to my pussy while his tongue thrust.

He licked and lapped for a long, sweet time of prolonged pleasure.

At last, he took his tongue out of me and pressed it to my clitoris.

If he had pressed too hard at first contact, I think I might have writhed out of the bed and flopped on the floor, I was that sensitive.

But instead he first licked long wet circles around the clitoris, then made little light passes across it, then pressed more urgently.

Then he massaged it steadily, but by then, I was ready for all the force of his tonguing, and could enjoy it to the fullest.

Down between my legs came wet, slurping, sucking sounds.

My pussy felt all squishy and dripping inside, while the pussy lips were so alive and electric that they seemed to glow like neon.

My buttocks were clenched as I rocked my hips and pressed my pussy in his face.

He held my hips and his head bobbed while his tongue thrust.

I came hard and heavy.

My body tightened at the climax, peaked, then eased off, relaxing once more.

The flash of the big orgasm had hit me and crashed over me.

I was left weak and gasping and wonderfully well satisfied.

But there was more....

I was weak from pleasure and lay there barely able to move. But Tony moved me. He took hold of my legs and spread them wider apart.

My pussy felt like one glowing mass of pleasure. I couldn't make out the outlines of it, or tell where the labia began and the membranes ended.

The bush was soaked, and saliva and juices were smeared over the slit.

Tony got on his knees between my spread legs.

The rod of his penis jutted from his hips as he lowered himself down on me.

He got on top of me. He took hold of his rod and pressed its head to my slit.

My pussy dripped with moisture on the outside and the inside. I was well lubricated with saliva and juices, and was more than ready.

He pressed the tip, then the head of his member into my slit.

It filled me and stretched me. Since I was ready for it, eager, it felt so fine.

He had partial penetration. I was seething and sighing under him.

He let his weight push down on me, and the shaft sank into me.

I wondered if I would faint from the pure pleasure of his thing entering me.

He was full, thick, strong. He entered me and filled me.

I wrapped my arms around his sweaty upper back and held him tight. His head was next to mine, our moist cheeks pressing.

He moved on top of me, working his rod inside me, thrusting.

He took me there. Having my pussy eaten to a climax had already steamed and satisfied me, but more pleasure was in store for me....

For a long time he took me on that bed, so that when he finally stopped delaying and came, we both were ready for it.

Sweat dripped from us, soaking the sheets, as we lay gasping after our mutual climax.

It was a good time, a sweet time, and the thrill of the memory helped get me through the grim tasks at work the next day.

The grimmest of which was letting Stan Simmons use me.

He had nerve, that man, real brassbound gall. He summoned me to his office for what I thought would be a mid-morning conference.

When I came into the office, he was alone, and sat behind his desk. He wore a gray suit jacket, white shirt, striped tie.

"Do come in, Donna," he said. "And please shut the door behind you."

"Yes, Stan."

"And lock it, please."

I did so, then when I went to his desk, he motioned for me to come around it.

As I did so, he pushed his swivel chair back from the desk, turned, stood up.

From the waist up, he wore his conventional conservative business suit, but from the waist down, he was nude!

He had taken down his slacks and shorts, which hung at his feet, while between them and the tails of his shirt, was his hairy reddish-pink flesh.

I wondered how long he had been dressed, or rather undressed, like that.

Had he done it just a moment before, when he had summoned me? Or had he been that way all morning, conducting business from behind his desk, giving orders, making calls, getting papers from secretaries?

I knew that it would turn him on to be nakedly exposed, with the secret of his nudity concealed under the opaque desk.

At any rate, he sure intended to make use of his condition.

He was semi-erect, and as I moved around to him, he handled himself.

Leering, he pointed down at the floor.

I knew what he wanted. I set down my notepad and pen on the corner of his desk, then put my pocketbook down on the floor, propping it against the edge of the desk.

Then I got down on my knees at his feet, facing his groin.

He moved closer to me and patted my head and fondled my hair.

He put his hand on the back of my head and pulled my face to his cock and balls.

His cock was thick but limp, a warm hose of flesh, while his balls were all heavy and dangling. He jammed my face to them.

He took hold of his penis and massaged it against my face.

The penis jerked and thickened, not getting fully stiff.

"Turn me on," he said, "make me hard!"

I cupped his balls and held them in the palm of my hand, where they tightened in the sac when I played my tongue over them.

I licked my way up his cock and took the head of it in my mouth. I rubbed the smooth insides of my lips against the rod.

I took the long, semi-erect member deep in my mouth, between my lips.

His thing got hard when I mouthed it, growing and stiffening on my tongue.

I pulled my head back a few inches to keep from choking, then sucked the rod.

He groaned, gasped, and grunted as he fucked my mouth.

Actually, though, I did all the work, since I bobbed my head back and forth while I sucked him, and he stood there in place.

His spit spilled from the corners of my mouth I didn't want it to spill on my blouse, so I was careful to keep wiping it off.

When he was going to come, he held my head in place, like he feared I would pull away, to cheat him of the fun of coming in my mouth.

He shuddered and his cock spasmed and spurted a load down my throat.

I took it and swallowed it, not liking it. but knowing my innings were due.

And after lunch, in early afternoon, they came due.

"Come on and suck me ... suck it ... suck it, you black-haired bitch! Ah, that's good, so good ... so fine but more tongue there-"

Stan Simmons sat statue-still, listening to the sound of his own hoarse voice, playing back at him through the portable tape player on his desk.

I was playing a fast game, and now that I had him where I wanted, there would be no delay in showing him exactly where things were at.

I sat in the chair on the other side of the desk, looking all lady-like, prim and proper, with both feet on the floor, knees pressed closed, and skirt pulled down.

Stan was a study in emotion, all right.

When I took out the tape player and hit the PLAYBACK button, so that the recorded cassette began to unreel, he was mildly puzzled, amused.

It took him a few seconds to recognize the sound of his own voice on the tape. That often happens people think they sound different in real life.

But this tape recording of the morning's blowjob session was all too familiar for him to stay in the dark about for long.

His eyes widened, then narrowed as the tape played on.

He frowned. Furrows were plowed in his forehead. His face reddened and swelled up, like an enraged heart pumped extra blood there.

For an instant, I hoped that he didn't have a heart problem.

If he should keel over while listening to this tape, the hard work I had put into this situation would all be for naught.

I would have to choose a new exec and start all over again ... happily, for me, Stan's ticker was able to withstand the shock I handed him.

But he was shook, I'll tell you that!

His face got redder and redder, going from a deep red to a lobster red, to a lava-like red, with his face swelling up more and more.

When he had heard enough, he gasped in a strangled voice, "You cheap little blackmailer!"

He shouted some other stuff, too, which was even less nice.

He grabbed the tape player and tore at the lid. He tried to open it without stopping the mechanism first.

His finger trembled as he stabbed the STOP button. He tore the cassette out with such violence that he broke a fingernail.

The tape wasn't yet freed from the machine, and long spirals of thin tape unwound as he ripped the cassette loose.

He tried to break it in two, then saw he couldn't, so he threw it on the floor and stamped on it, crushing and crackling it underfoot.

He was huffing and puffing from the exertion, which was more energy than he had put into the suck-job I gave him early this morning.

When he finally turned to confront me, I said dryly, "Feel better?"

"You you witch you're finished here!" A sob of rage, pure hate, crackled in his voice.

"You're through here," he stormed, "you're through here, and in the industry, too, I'll see that you never work on Seventh Avenue again. I'll-"

"Shut up."

"What?! "

"Sit down and shut up. And you better sit down; you'll need it."

He opened his mouth, a big black hole gaping in a furious red face, and took a deep breath of air, to begin another tirade.

"Don't!" I held up my hand to silence him. "Don't say another word, until you've heard me out, or you'll regret it!"

Something in my voice, in the calm way I was playing my hand, warned him that I had cards up my sleeve.

He shook from pure rage, but he shut up, his hands balled into fists.

I flashed him a thin smile, just to enrage him some more.

I said, "You don't really think I played that tape for you just so you could destroy it, did you?! Don't be ridiculous!

"That was just the tape of our little session this morning! The real stuff is on the tape that I made last night!

"Sure, that's a real hot tape. I played it back a few times ... sure made good listening, all that hot action going down.

"I especially like it when you're telling just how you like your balls licked ... but then, maybe even better, are all those parts where I call you by name.

"And best of all is the part where you're telling me how good I do it, and how your wife doesn't suck it at all, and how dull she is in bed.

"Yes, that sure makes interesting listening, all right!

"My friend is out this morning, making a number of copies of that tape. It's just too good for me to keep all to myself!

"No, Stan, I think that your wife might find it as interesting as I did-maybe even more interesting. Why, she might even learn something!"

He groaned, "Damn you!"

I went on: "And of course, if you want to push things, and get me fired from my job here, why, I'll just bet that the officers of the company, and especially your bosses, will be interested in hearing a copy of the tape!

"Not only that, but when I go file a complaint with the city's Human Rights commission, to claim that I got fired due to sexual harassment, that tape should surely prove a compelling piece of evidence, eh?

"With a big stink like that, a nice headline-grabbing lawsuit added to it, your name will be mud on Seventh Avenue it'll be you who'll never work in the industry again! And if you think I'm bluffing-why, call my bluff!"

But he knew I wasn't bluffing-I had him right where I wanted him. By the balls.

His voice was dull, strangled, when he asked, "What what do you want?"

"Before I present you with my list of nonnegotiable demands, there's one little thing I have to take care of first," I said.

Reaching across his desk, I took hold of the framed photo of his wife and kids which sat on the desktop, and turned it face down.

"Out of respect for your family," I gloated. "We wouldn't want them to hear all the sordid details!"

I told him what I wanted.