Chapter 7
It didn't take me long to learn about Harding Scott's amazing personality.
Late one afternoon, as I was finishing some dictation for him prior to the day's coming to a close, we were interrupted by a telephone call.
"I don't want to take this," he told the telephone girl. "I'm busy with dictation. I've got lots to do."
"It's your wife, sir," the girl told him. "Oh shit," he said disgustedly. "Fine, I'll take it."
His tone changed as he spoke smoothly to his wife. I observed a frown surfacing on his forehead.
"It will have to be tonight? Okay, fine, I'll be there then. Goodbye, dear."
He hung up the phone, then shook his head disgustedly.
"I can't ball you like I want to do tonight," he said sadly. "My wife's sister and her husband are in from Chicago for tonight. They're expecting me home for dinner. Dammit to hell."
"Maybe we can get together tomorrow night," I suggested.
"No. I can't make it then either. I've got a dinner party that I'm giving, or I should say, my wife is giving. She's such an expert at these things. Anyhow, that leaves tomorrow out as well."
"You can always do one of two things," I grinned. "You can fuck your wife, or you can beat your meat."
"There's one other option that you didn't mention. I can fuck you, and I can do it right away."
Harding startled me by jumping out of his swivel chair with great determination, then striding rapidly into the other room.
"Everybody can go home now," he called out.
"But it's only a little after four, Mr. Scott," one of the men reminded him, thinking he had made a mistake.
"Look, dammit, I know what time it is," Harding Scott said with a tone of great impatience. "I've got things to do before going home. There are some relatives at home tonight. You folks have done a good job today. I'll let you go a little early."
"Thank you, Mr. Scott," I heard one of the girls say.
"Think nothing of it, honey. It improves morale, and that's exactely what I'm trying to inject in you."
"Very thoughtful of you, sir," another girl said.
"I'll see you folks in the morning," he told them.
I looked out the crack in the door, observing Harding lighting up a cigarette and taking several puffs as the office cleared out.
As the last person left, I saw Harding sigh with relief. He ground the cigarette into a nearby ashtray, spun on his heels, and walked quickly back into the office.
"Through with dictation," he said impatiently. "I've got other important things on my mind."
He wheeled around and locked the door, then walked toward me.
"Come on over on the convertible sofa," he winked. "You see, a Girl Friday has to be ready for all kinds of situations. And my cock is ready for them too. Hence, I have the convertible sofa."
I stood next to the sofa, watching as he pulled it out.
He drew the drapes shut, then turned and unzipped his trousers.
"Just take a look at that," he showed me his hard dick. "Does my prick look appetizing?"
"Yes, it does."
His hot hands clutched tightly at my swaying hips as he tugged me downwards into the sofa.
With a quick flick of the wrist, Harding began tugging at my panties. He flung them on the carpet, right alongside my blouse, skirt and bra.
He had undressed me so quickly that I was barely aware of what was happening. I could see that when Harding Scott wanted something, particularly when it applied to his hard, throbbing member, he could accomplish it with little difficulty.
We were sprawled out together on the sofa and Harding hadn't even removed his clothing. All he had had time to do, aside from opening his fly, was loosen his tie ever so slightly.
He began the swift onslaught by exploring my curvaceous buttocks with a soft, massaging motion. Both hands were working eagerly toward my buttocks, and as he let them go to work, my whole body swayed rhythmically.
I could tell from the size of his bulging cock, along with his general air of impatience, that Harding wasn't about to do much in the way of fooling around.
He would have that huge pecker sliding inside me very shortly.
The excitement mounted speedily inside Harding and his cheeks began to flush. He swallowed hard, raising his now trembling right hand and delivering a sharp open-handed blow to my left buttock. It landed with a sonic impact of a rifle shot in a wilderness.
Once more Harding lifted his hand, this time making contact with my right buttock. It stung a little, but it was the kind of love sting that I actually liked. It proved conclusively that he was a man, and was dominating me. Maybe women's lib has a few good points, but when it comes to fucking, I prefer the old way any time. I want to be dominated by a hot-blooded, big cocked stud, and with Harding coming on in that manner, I was perfectly contented.
"Baby, I'm going to fuck the hell out of you," he grinned, murmuring softly as beads of sweat formed on his forehead. "That's just the way you want to be fucked."
"Drive your prick into me."
"Oh yes, but first I'm going to get some real thrills."
His trembling right index finger pressed its way inside my ass. With a teasing, jerky movement, he tickled my ass till he got the action he wanted-a sensuous wiggle.
Harding chuckled boyishly, a grin filling his reddened face.
"What an ass you've got, beautiful baby," he said. "You've got the cheeks I love to squeeze."
His next move was to apply his tongue to my ass, moving it skillfully inside my ass-hole until he produced wiggles of sensation in me.
He kept up the ass movements for a few strokes, then decided it was time to go on to the main portion of the sex episode. He wanted my cunt, and I could tell by the look of hunger in his eyes.
"Get set, because I'm going to blast away," he gasped. "I want your pussy."
He plunged his hips forward dramatically, then permitted his hard dick to enter my mound.
He planted his prick into me deeply, rotating his hips back and forth and thrusting with everything that he had until he drove the spirited, surging rod ever deeper inside me.
"What a tight snatch," he gasped. "I really love plunging this pecker into you, honey. I love it in your snatch. I love the tight mound."
His fingers roamed first over my ass-cheeks, then worked their way upwards towards by breast.
His fingers dominated me with powerful breast movements. He alternately squeezed and rubbed them, permitting his fingers to work with systematic grace.
All the while his prick continued to plant itself ever deeper inside my pussy. He thrust and drove it into me with overpowering force. He was determined to unleash its juices inside my mound, as quickly as possible.
With spirited determination, he kept up the jolting movements, pushing himself and me along with him ever closer to climax.
I liked his manly thrusts, and regretted that I couldn't be his wife. The first time I had met Harding I had hoped I would some day become Mrs. Scott, not realizing that there was already a Mrs. Scott in existence.
But since I recognized that marriage was now out of the question, I felt that at the very least I could still please him more than his wife, and that gave me some satisfaction. I could fuck with him any time, I could fuck with him regularly, and communicate with him in the most spirited way possible.
He rotated the hips smoothly but speedily as he worked into the final stages of the act.
His fingers were working with great determination over my nipples. He pinched and squeezed them, slamming his pecker forcefully inside my mound.
"You're tight, real tight," he murmured.
As the cock continued working with effective enthusiasm, he slid his tongue forward inside my mouth.
As our tongues converged, my body began to shudder. I recognized that my juices would be exploding in just a matter of seconds.
The body trembling continued, and finally the juices began to explode out of my pussy.
He continued tonguing my mouth, realizing just how close he was to delivering his searing cock juices into my snatch.
He drove the prick forward, slicing his tongue against mine, penetrating inside my mound with everything that he had.
Several strokes later, the hot juices spurted out of his prick.
An exhilarating feeling overcame me as I received the bountiful pleasures attached to his orgasm.
When he released his cock from my mound, he exclaimed happily: "That's what I call a fuck. I'm just sorry we couldn't carry this out all evening."
"I can see you're one man who's not going to be denied," I laughed, climbing to my feet swiftly. "When you want to fuck, you want to fuck."
"I don't usually get this carried away, but looking at you for eight hours in this office is enough to make me horny."
"I look that good to you?" I grinned.
"You certainly do. If I had it to do all over again, I'd marry you. I just thought I'd tell you that."
"I appreciate that."
"But just because we're not married doesn't mean that we can't fuck up a storm any time we feel like it."
"No, I guess not. Even if the office help has to go."
"That was the only way I could do it. That is, and make my wife happy."
"You're making both your wife and your mistress happy," I laughed.