Chapter 8

An Understanding Boss

The following months were the blackest of my life.

The money Jack had lent us soon vanished into thin air and we were reduced to selling off jewelry to make ends meet.

But even this source of supply eventually dried up, leaving us one gloomy morning without a bean.

Young as I was, I realized this precarious situation couldn't be allowed to go on any longer. I decided to take the bull by the horns and start working.

However, my dear aristocratic parent had other ideas on the subject. She considered it disgraceful for a daughter of such a noble family as ours to lower herself to actually working. This she judged to be the final word in social degradation.

Nevertheless, we had to eat, so after having had to listen to her incessant moaning, I finally decided to ignore her and curled up in the sofa while perusing the advertisements in the day's paper. This, incidentally, had been bought with our last penny.

"Saleswoman wanted urgently. Even inexperienced. Novelty store, 14 Rue des Italiens."

The very next morning, at nine sharp, I was on the doorstep admiring the attractive window display. Right away I felt I had come to the right place. I went in. A very smart young woman came across to meet me.

"Good morning Miss, what can I do for you?"

"Good morning, Madame, I have come in answer to your advertisement."

"Very well. Please sit down, I will call my husband."

It seemed things were turning out all right. Obviously she was the owner's wife. She looked charming and understanding and I sensed this should not prove too difficult to handle.

A moment later a handsome man of about 30 put in an appearance.

"I hear you want to work for us. You look very young to me. How old are you?"

"I am 18," I lied glibly, not wanting to seem too young.

"Have you ever worked before?"

"No sir, I am afraid not. I have only just left school, but owing to the war ... "

At this stage he noticed my strong Flemish accent.

"You do not sound French."

"No, I am Belgian. My mother and I left Bruges because of the war."

His wife cut in:

"In that case you must speak Belgian!"

I had difficulty in restraining a smile.

"Everyone in Belgium speaks French and Flemish. As you can see I can speak French but my native tongue is Flemish."

"It is a pity you cannot speak German, as we have a lot of German officers as customers and my husband and I cannot understand them."

Luck was with me.

"Flemish and German are rather alike. If I speak Flemish to one of your German customers he will understand me, and vice versa.

I felt them warm towards me.

"This young lady seems to be just right; what do you think?"

"I quite agree. She looks the perfect type to . . ."

The doorbell interrupted the conversation as a high-ranking German officer stalked into the shop.

He saluted and spoke in clumsy French, groping for each word:

"I would like some perfume, please."

Jumping at the opportunity, I took the liberty of turning to the officer and assumed my most attractive smile.

"Dag, Mijneer Officer."

Pleasantly surprised to hear someone speaking Flemish, he burst out:

"Do you really speak Flemish Miss?"

"Ja, Mijneer."

"Ach so! I would like a small bottle of expensive perfume."

"Jawohl, mein Herr Officer."

I explained his wants to the owners, handed him what he had asked for, gave him his change, and showed him out with warm thanks in his mother tongue.

The gratified look on his face as he went out had an immediate effect on the couple. They both crowded round me, congratulating me on my excellent performance. I was hired on the spot.

And that is how in the year of 1941, I, blue-blooded daughter of a noble family, became a saleswoman ... at the monthly hiring rate of a thousand francs.

This was not much, but enabled us to live. Despite my mother's continuing indignation, I gradually grew to like my first job. The customers were mostly rich and elegant, thus taking me back to the luxurious way of living we had had in Bruges.

But there were more attractive benefits.

Very often masculine employers make use of their position to seduce and force their unwelcome attention upon the younger female staff, threatening to get rid of them if they don't give in. In my case it was the other way around. I fell in love with the boss.

At the beginning I had been so busy learning my new job that I had no time to think of anything else. However, after a while I got the hang of it and did everything almost automatically. This left me the leisure to study the customers, the way they behaved, their dress, their jewels, etc ...

Then I got fed up with this little pastime and began to observe the owner and his wife.

The lady of the house was particularly attractive. She was a fine figure of a woman, always tightly laced in well-cut dresses with plunging necklines, so that she seemed to have great difficulty in preventing her generous white breasts from bursting out at her least movement. As she paraded in the shop, swinging her finely molded hips in well-modulated undulations, she was the perfect incarnation of sex appeal.

She was so sexy that the errand boy, only about 13, used to ogle her surreptitiously, then run to the lavatory, where imagining her naked body in bed next to his, he would let loose his mounting desire with agile fingers. After having had a good toss, he would come out scarlet, his eyes bulging from their sockets.

This is to show you that her charms were fully appreciated even by precocious kids.

Her husband was more distant and aloof, although very kind. I was near him eight hours a day. Jack had left me thirsting for his caresses.

Some nights I used to fondle my tits, then slide down to the ever open lips of my un-satiated moist cunt, digging my probing fingers in the pulpy flesh until their tips were sticky with my juices. Licking them ravenously, I tried to recapture the delight of gobbling Jack's enormous prick. A poor substitute indeed!

Instinctively I had an intense desire to make love with my attractive boss.

Men are all the same. When it comes to sleeping with a pretty girl, you can always count on one hundred percent cooperation.

Rene, for that was his name, may have seemed offhand, but he was no exception to the rule.

Despite my youth, I had been well-groomed by Jack, and knew how to get what I wanted.

One morning I happened to be alone with Rene. I pretended that one of the upper shelves needed cleaning, and climbed up the small ladder. As soon as I was on the top, taking particular care to spread out my legs as far apart as possible, I called him over with a ravishing smile,

"Do you really think these bottles look their best up here?"

Coming over, I must admit he looked first at the shelf, then answered:

"Yes, but I should shift them more to the right."

He was now right underneath me. Leaning toward the shelf I parted my legs even farther. I gave him a front-row view of my thighs and his searching gaze seemed to bore through my dainty translucid panties into my yawning, expectant trench.

He was tactful enough not to show his growing excitement, but merely added:

"I think tomorrow morning we should tidy up the higher shelves."

Okay, my friend, I understand, you had a good look today, you want a better one tomorrow; I won't disappoint you.

So next morning, when dressing, I conveniently forgot to put on my slip.

When I got to the shop, putting on my most innocent air, I inquired:

"Shall we see to the higher shelves today, sir?"

"Yes, why not."

In a jiffy I was up the ladder, giving him an eyeful of my naked crack.

It did not take long. Standing perfectly still, his eyes pouring into my unvirgin forest, his gaze took on a crazy animal look of awakened passion.

This time I was sure he had been able to make a minute investigation of my inner regions with particular reference to that mysterious triangle crowned by those blonde curly hairs.

He took hold of himself in a moment, but only the better to work out his next move.

"Come down to help me fix these bottles."

"Certainly sir."

I had hardly gone down two or three rungs when I felt two strong arms lifting me and putting me down on the ground. Two hands grasped my breasts. My head drawn backwards, his greedy lips stuck to mine. Intoxicated, I opened my mouth. His searching tongue found mine. Our teeth knocked together. Under his expert pressure, my breasts stuck out under my light dress. A long satisfying kiss ended with a soft sigh.

His voice hoarse, he gasped:

"Did you do it on purpose?"

"What do you mean?"

"Not putting on anything underneath."

My only answer was a diabolical smile.

Wasting no more time, he introduced his hand under the dress. Lightly shimming over feverish thighs, he found my expectant furnace. His burning fingertips worming their way into my red-hot cunt produced a sensation of utter ecstasy and, squirming and shivering, I unloosed the accumulated overflow of mammal orgasm. J

I stayed pressed to him, motionless, as he looked down at me, smiling, apparently well satisfied with his morning's work. Then he drew me towards the back of the shop.

"But what about your wife?"

He shrugged negligently.

He laid me down on the rug. Again he lifted my skirt and, reverently contemplating my cleft still over-boiling from excitement, slowly, without hurrying, he thrust his lance into me. He was not in the same class as Jack for all the preliminary diversions, but he was an artist at the normal sexual act.

Now slowly, then faster, he carefully worked up to a calculated rhythm, always just stopping on the edge of his spasm and mine.

At last the moment came. Pushing his monster to the climax, he filled my inside with endless waves of hot milky fluid which mingled with the outgoing tide of my orgasm.

A few moments later, letting down my dress, I sat down on the sofa. I could not resist saying:

"How marvelous it was!"

My new lover burst out laughing, then kissing me said:

"You may be a trollop but you don't make any bones about it."

That was my first contact with my third lover.

Anyone seeing us just afterwards busily tidying up the shop would have been surprised to have learned what had just gone on.

As usual, when his wife came in she greeted me with an affable smile. I was young and rather stupid then; I felt very nearly sorry for her.

This did not last long, however.

Next day my lover surreptitiously murmured:

"I will meet you in my studio tonight after we have closed."

"What about your wife?

"Don't worry your pretty little head about that."

After we had closed up, he showed me into his apartment above the shop.

His wife had been gone for about an hour. I asked where she was.

"Don't worry, she is out."

He sat me down on a large and comfortable sofa where he undertook to strip me. I protested feebly.

"Please, what if she should come in "

"It doesn't matter, darling, she is out."

As I have already told you, when a man kisses me and strips me, playing his tingling fingers all over my anatomy, pawing me with frenzied caresses, it sends me out of my mind. I can't help it, that's the way I am made. So naturally I had no time left to worry about his absent spouse.

Rene popped out my two ripened pears, with their tiny upturned points, nibbling and sucking them; then, unfastening my skirt while idly stroking and kneading my buttocks, he lifted it over my head. With the result that, a minute or two later, I was stark naked on the cushy sofa.

Then his famished lips worked down on my neck, on my pouted lips, on my breasts now as hard as rock, then on my belly already arched towards his willing, slithering tongue.

I was already lost, when all of a sudden, despite myself, I heard a slight noise. My eyes widened and I uttered a cry. His wife had come in!

I leapt off the couch, completely out of my mind. I looked everywhere for a hiding place. I wished the floor would swallow me.

A soft and ironical voice nailed me down.

"Well my little friend, what's got hold of you?"

Bewildered, I stared at her, fascinated.

She was leering at me mockingly.

I must have looked a perfect fool, absolutely naked; I gazed into her eyes fearfully.

She had the cheek to ask me what I was doing.

At that time I was still naive! The legitimate wife of my lover found me nude in his arms and she just smiled and asked me what I was frightened of! This upset all my preconceived ideas. I have seen worse since, but just at that moment it seemed incredible.

There was more to come.

Still smiling, she approached me and tenderly forced me down on the sofa. I had no will of my own, but was like a puppet in her hands.

As she bent down to my level, to my astonishment, her fur coat opened, revealing her completely naked body.

I was so bewildered that I had difficulty in taking in what was happening to me.

With fondling and wheedling gestures, she maneuvered my body into a more comfortable position, then, with a swift movement, rid herself of her superfluous garment, revealing her sensuous, provoking anatomy.

Her fully shaped breasts already stuck up towards me like a couple of spoiled poodles begging for biscuits.

The black bushy hairs of her pussy hypnotized my eyes like priceless jewelry.

She was a sexy bitch!

Still with a charming smile, she bent solicitously above me. Her charming voice was now a little strained.

"Well, Monique, you did not expect to see me here, did you?"

I shook my head negatively.

That was all I was capable of doing by now.

She took my head in one hand and with the other stroked my breasts. As she did so, hers protruded dangerously towards my face.

She went on:

"Why couldn't I join in with you both in your fun and games? As usual, Rene has told me all about it. He has already described your beautiful, promising body. I can see he did not exaggerate. It also seems you have a healthy sexual appetite and an inexhaustible thirst between your rosy petals. It's only fair I should want to have my share of it. My dear husband told me I should be very satisfied, and I can quite believe it after having seen you."

While she had been speaking, I had forgotten all about her husband. Now, looking round for him, I found he had wasted no time; he had also stripped. He was completely naked!

Smiling, his whole face afire with desire, he scrutinized the two female beauties who stood revealed before him.

His battering ram thrashed the air with renewed ardor.

He came towards us, then spoke to his wife.

"What do you think of her Suzette?"

"She is a marvel, a real gem, darling."

I heard no more, as Suzette, having had enough of just looking at me, pressed her lips to mine, forced open my mouth, inserted her throbbing tongue with deft strokes, tasting the full flavor of my salivary excretions. Hysterically, her hands forced my buttocks upon her body, while from behind Rene darted his red-hot poker into her.

This touched off my orgasm.

To my great surprise, he fished his rod out of her and, seizing me roughly, stuck it agonizingly through my labia, up into the vagina, high up towards the cervix, undulating his behind furiously between my legs. His self-imposed frustration disappeared on the first entry. Up and down he drove his penis, growing thicker and stronger at every stroke; I clung to him desperately, moaning softly. I clutched his advancing knob, welcoming it into my dark tunnel. He put his hands round the delectable mounds of my buttocks. As his searing tool advanced deeper and deeper into me, I felt him sucking and nibbling at the tautened points of my breasts. His cock was now an enormous beast roaming into my primeval forest, ready to burst at any moment. He gasped, caught his breath, then lost it in a great out surging of his lungs as he discharged shot after shot from his "big bertha"; answering his precise aim, I exploded into myriads of tiny fragments of excruciating spasms.