Chapter 4
The next day when Joyce Johnson came to work, Steve regretted the fact he'd ever made such a promise to his wife.
He got as far as lunch time and then Miss Johnson sat on the edge of his desk and pulled up her skirt so he could see her knee.
"Are you trying to entice me?" he asked her boldly.
"I don't know," she smiled.
"The hell you don't know," he told her. "You're trying to get me excited. I know it."
"Forgive me, baby," she told him. "I don't mean to be difficult. But you are such a handsome man that I find you irresistible."
At that point she parted her legs, from where Steve was sitting he could just see her pussy.
"Don't you wear panties?"
"No," Joyce shook her head. "I keep them in the refrigerator."
"Why do you do that?"
"Because my pussy's so hot I'm afraid I'll burn them up," she giggled.
"You heard that from Marilyn Monroe," he laughed. "She did that in the Seven-Year Itch. Remember that picture?"
"What a dreadful name for a film," Joyce told him. "Seven-Year Itch sounds like a disease."
At that point Steve got a wild idea.
"Mentioning disease," he told her, "a person has to watch the meat they're eating these days. You know, like pink beaver."
"Oh, you nasty man," she giggled. "I suppose that means pussy examination."
"Yes," Steve grinned. "How did you guess?"
"It was easy," she smiled as she pulled up her skirt and revealed her crotch to him.
"Oh, it does look beautiful," he told her. "You sure keep your pussy nice."
"Nice and clean," she smiled as she pulled her pink pussy lips apart.
"Wow!" Steve exclaimed. "It does look delicious."
"And nutritious, too," she smiled. "I've got some strawberry pussy jelly. Wouldn't you like something now?"
Steve shook his head.
"Quit tempting me."
"You know you want it," she told him. "Let's be realistic."
"All right," he agreed.
Steve locked the door. Then Joyce took off her clothes and spread her pussy across his desk as she lay there.
"You shouldn't have done this, Joyce," he said as he was about to place his tongue in her pussy.
"Don't tell me you're getting guilty at your age," she laughed.
"I promised my wife," he explained, "that I would quit screwing my secretary."
"Don't bring your wife up," she shook her head. "I'm not a lesbian. I don't give a damn about her sex life. Now let's get on with it."
"I'm not trying to arrange a lesbian affair with you and Melinda," he assured her. "She says I should be loyal to her snatch."
"Look, sweetheart," Joyce told him, "you're a big boy now. Loyalty is for the birds."
He laughed as he let his tongue slip into her moist pussy.
"Suck it," the panted. "Suck it."
Just then the telephone rang. He was about to pull his face away from her crotch when she answered for him.
"Hello, who am I speaking to?" Melinda demanded.
"Steve's secretary," Joyce said in her most languid tone.
"Where is my husband?"
"Right now?" Joyce demanded.
"Yes," Melinda shrieked.
Placing her hand over the receiver, she looked at Steve.
"Do you want to go on licking my pussy or do you want to talk to my wife?"
"I'd better talk to her."
Steve pulled away from her pussy for a moment. He took the phone in his hand and began chatting with her.
"Hello, honey," he began.
"Hello, you bastard," his wife exclaimed. "What are you doing with that secretary in your office? I thought we made a deal last night that you were going to fire the little fucker."
"Now, now," Steve told her, "watch your blood pressure."
"I'm watching your pecker slipping into her," his wife complained. "How would you like it if I went and got balled by any man I could pick up?"
"Now, dear," he told her, "that isn't nice. A wife's place is in the home."
Melinda was so angry that she hated her marriage vows.
"Sure," she exclaimed tightly, "a wife is supposed to be a charmer in the living room, a cook in the kitchen, and a whore in the bedroom. Well, you married the wrong woman. I'm a lady."
"You don't fuck like a lady," he laughed.
She hung up the phone.
"I'm sorry she interrupted us," Joyce told him. "Now you go right ahead to what you were doing."
It didn't take him long to get down there between her legs again. He was turned on by the scent of her snatch and the delicious taste of her pussy juices.
His tongue flipped quickly back and forth across her clit. And then he licked her velvety vagina walls. She loved the erotic sensation of his tongue licking and lapping away like that.
"Eat me," she begged anxiously. "Suck me. That's what I want you to do, darling. Suck my pussy."
All at once she was cuming.
"Ohhh, I can't stand it," she panted as she locked her legs around him and shoved him hard over her pussy.
It was a great pleasure for him to accommodate her this way.
"Oh, honey," he smiled at her, "you don't know how good this feels to me. I just love licking you."
Now he was eager to demonstrate what he could do with his cock.
"Baby, I am dying to stick it up your asshole. I hope you don't mind."
"Mind?" Joyce laughed. "It's the anal age. Every man I've been going with for the last two years has asked to get into my asshole. I would be worried if' you didn't."
"I hope it isn't stretched too far," he shook his head.
"You don't have to worry about that," she told him. "I can take care of you."
She was prepared. She had a tube of KY that she used immediately to lubricate his shaft for him.
"How thoughtful of you," he smiled.
At that point she pulled gingerly up and down his long, hard penis. He loved the sensation.
"Now, baby," he told her, "you and I are gonna have a real good time."
She bent over his desk. He gripped her firm, ripe ass cheeks.
"You shove back while I shove in," he suggested.
The secretary accommodated him. She winced in pain as he plunged his long, thick prick into her tight anal channel.
"Fuck it, baby," he whispered as he pumped it into her passionately.
She loved the feeling of his long, hard cock gliding into her asshole. She swung her hips around.
"Now you're fucking," he told her eagerly. "Come on, baby, do it."
She was giving him the fuck of a lifetime. And he was becoming more and more turned on every second.
"Yes, baby, yes," he told her, "that's what I want. Now you're doing it."
Grasping her ass cheeks firmly he rammed in with all of his thrusting power.
"Fuck it, baby," he told her. "Fuck. That's what I want you to do. Come on. Fuck."
Passionately he rammed it to her. She loved the erotic sensation of his huge manhood jabbing up her asshole.
"Now you're doing it," he told her. "Fuck. Oh, baby, you're beautiful. Just like I like it. Keep fucking."
With deep, hard cock stabs he continued slamming up her ass.
"Oh, wild," he told her. "You've really got it down, baby. Swing it."
It did feel fantastic to his long, hard penis to be sucked in by her twisting asshole. She knew just how to develop a rhythm with her buttocks.
"Fuck, baby," he whispered enticingly. "Fuck."
He drove in deeply.
"That's what I want," he told her excitedly. "Oh, baby, you're beautiful. Fuck it off."
He continued slamming it into her ass.
"Oh, baby, I sure like being banged in my asshole," she cried out. "Your long, thick prick feels super to me. Keep shoving it."
He went on thrusting. He knew that it couldn't be much longer until his cock exploded.
Just as he was about to get his pistol off, the secretary in the other office decided she was going to come in.
"Damn her, trying to come in here," he complained.
"Don't bother me," he called out to her.
She got the point. She left him alone.
Now Steve was fully aware of how far his wife would go. She was even working on his old secretary to check on the young one.
He rammed his cock in once more. The wild, erotic sensations of his thick prick assaulting Joyce's asshole had her churning in delight.
"Keep it up," he told her. "Fuck."
She continued grinding her hips around.
"Now you're doing it," he told her. "Oh, baby, you're beautiful."
All of the sudden his hot, white sperm spasmed up her asshole. Her ass muscles clamped on his cock. She milked him for dear life.
"I'm cuming," he exploded. "Oh, baby, milk my pecker."
Her wild ass gyrations milked his long, hard penis.
"Am I a wild fuck or not?" he asked her.
"You're really wild, lover," she assured him.
He was pleased that she enjoyed his performance. He was equally excited over the fact that she wanted more and more.
"If I was your wife," she suggested slyly, "think of the fun we would have."
"If you were my wife we probably wouldn't have any fun," he told her. "I know how you women work. Once you have me as a permanent meal ticket, that would be that."
It really bugged him that women always wanted to talk about lasting relationships. After all, he thought to himself, it was pretty damned stupid. Didn't she have all that she needed? She was happy getting what she wanted. Why should she want any more? It just didn't add up.
He got dressed and so did she.
"Do you want to join me for lunch?" he suggested.
She nodded. As he went out the door with Joyce, to lunch, he turned to his older secretary sternly.
"I don't want to be bothered when I'm tied up in a conference," he told her.
"Oh, I'm sorry," she apologized in mockery.
When they were out having lunch, Joyce asked him how he was getting along with his wife.
"Melinda's a real nice wife," he told her, "but she expects too much."
"Little things like loyalty," she laughed. "Apparently, that is not one of your strong points."
"No, it isn't," he admitted. "I've got what you'd call a wandering eye."
"I've deal with many bosses who had that problem," she told him. "That is why I don't care to ever get seriously involved. I think it's better playing around. I pity these poor women who are stuck in the kitchen slaving away for the slobs who carry on with gorgeous chicks like me."
"You're such a generous-hearted dame," he laughed.
"I think so," Joyce told him. "I really do. I wish that all of these women were able to satisfy the men as I am. I would sort of pass it around."
"You're too much," he laughed.
When he got back to his office he was jolted. For Melinda was there confronting him.
Melinda made no bones about her feelings.
"I want to talk to you and your secretary," she said angrily.
"I think I'd better be going now," Joyce said as she started to leave.
At that point Melinda glared at her.
"No, honey," she told her. "I want you to stay and listen to what I've got to say. It's real important."
"Yes," Joyce nodded innocently, "what have you got to say, dear?"
"Don't 'dear' and 'honey' me," Melinda said grimly. "You've been playing around with my husband. He puts on a good innocent act. But he's been doing this for years. He's got the most unfaithful pecker in the world."
"That's quite a touching tribute," Joyce assured her, "considering how many men there are in the world."
"I've checked it out," she told her, "and I've checked you out, too. I did a little research on your background, Miss Johnson. And my spies tell me that you were fired from your last job for hustling office boys."
Joyce's face turned red.
"Is this the truth?" Steve asked grimly.
"There were rumors," Miss Johnson shivered, "but, of course, they were false. Rather than create a lot of fuss, I figured it was better to leave the damn job."
"That isn't the way it happened at all," Melinda told her husband. "That fucker was fired. And you'd better fire her and fast. I don't want any hanky-panky going on around here. You've got your choice. Either I walk away with half of what you've got, or you get rid of her. I think it would be cheaper to delouse yourself of her."
Joyce had never been so angry in her life.
"You're going to eat those words," she snapped in defiance.
"The hell I am," Melinda said, "and don't you try to threaten me. You've really got me uptight. Now get the hell out."
It was a battle now between Melinda and Joyce. The two of them were starting to assault each other. Steve didn't know what to do at this point.
'Girls," he exploded, "quit fighting over me."
That reached Melinda's ears as the sound of fury.
"What a damned despicable thing to say," she quipped. "You really burn me up."
There wasn't the shadow of a doubt in Melinda's mind that she had gotten rid of the other woman. Sure enough, Joyce left.
When she was alone with her husband she glared at him.
"I guess I fixed your wagon, honey,"
"Damn you for interfering in my business," he told her.
"Monkey business," she quipped. "You need a trainer. You need to have someone to trail around with you on a leash. Then perhaps you could be loyal."
"Of course, you know that it's ridiculous that I was doing anything," he insisted. "You were just feeing us both a pack of lies. I respect Miss Johnson for leaving. She had the grace to overlook your false weaknesses."
Melinda laughed. She went over to his bar and poured herself a whiskey.
"Now don't start drinking and blame me," he told her, "because the next time you get in the alcohol sanitarium I'm not gonna come and get you."
"How kind of you," she quipped. "As if I care."
She was getting slobbery drunk now. As she started to slur her words, he felt like slapping her. But hew knew better.
"Baby doll, go home," he told her.
"You have made my life pure hell," she told him, "and now I'm gonna give you some hell right back."
He sat there trying to figure out what to do.
When a business call came through he found it extremely difficult to conduct it with his wife sitting there, slurring her words and cursing him.
"Is something wrong?" his business associate asked him.
"Why no," he assured him. "Everything is all right."
He continued the conversation and when the deal was concluded on the phone, he hung up. Looking at his wife he begged her to go home.
"On one condition," she told him. "I want to play around. I want to find out what it's like to have somebody else. Maybe you're not the best man in the world. Maybe I would discover pleasure with another pecker."
"You foul-talking, good-for-nothing, double-crossing devil," he quipped. "You got me to fire a perfectly moral secretary. Now you want to play around."
"What's good for the goose is good for the gander," she laughed raucously. "I'm getting the sudden urge to find out about sex. I'm sure not gonna find out about from you. Damn you."
It was outrageous to him that she would suggest playing around.
"On one condition," he told her, "that I know who you're doing it with. I want to watch."
"You are a voyeur," she exclaimed. "I always had you figured as that. Sure, if you could get your kicks watching some man screw me, you would be satisfied."
"At least I'd know you weren't getting hurt," he told her. "Some men are sadists. Sure, they'll play around with you, but they'll hurt you, too."
"Work something out, dear," Melinda demanded, "because I'm gonna even the score. You've had other women. I've never had another man outside of you. And now I want to find out. Do you understand?"
"It's sick as hell," he admitted, "but I understand. Some way, I'll figure something out. I don't want to do it, but you're forcing my hand."
"Thank you, love," she told him. "I'll go home now and rest up. I can hardly wait for our orgy to take place."
When she left him alone he was disturbed and uptight. But he knew that his wife was right. For he had played around. And she had not enjoyed the equivalent of sexual pleasure. The past was catching up with him.