The Bahamas was a lovely place any time of year, and Freeport, in the Bahamas, always had that delicious tropical feel about it. The air was pollution-free, and the sights on the Sunrise Highway were totally unlike the sights on the Sunrise Highway in Freeport, N.Y. Here, palm trees swayed, grass grew the year-round, and the little shops and arcades had colorful exteriors.
Rosalie Martin was always enchanted with this particular Island. She loved coming here for the various conventions her company held. She breathed deeply through the open cab window as it pulled up in front of the Queen's Tavern as she got out. The bell-boys bowed obsequiously, hurrying to take her luggage, as they followed her to the front desk.
"Ah, yes, Mrs. Martin," the desk clerk smiled. "Mr. Martin is not with you, I see."
"Mr. Martin hasn't been with me for several years," she told him, "ever since I threw him out of the house and divorced him. Now what room am I in?"
"You're on the second floor, toward the rear," he told her.
There were no elevators in this particular hotel. That was one less mechanical contrivance, to rust in a hot, moist climate like this one.
Rosalie asked that her luggage be sent up, and she went wandering through the hotel's inner arcade, looking for the bar. She found it, had herself a vodka martini, then headed for her room, feeling a little more relaxed.
"Good afternoon, Mrs. Martin," she heard as she paused outside her door, and noticed the room next to hers was occupied by Rand Stroud, the head of the entire eastern home office of Residential Insurance. Rand was moving up to the presidency of the entire company, and it would be officially announced at the final convention meeting Wednesday night. The convention officially began on Monday, but Rosalie felt it wiser to come down early Sunday mornings to get settled.
"Mr. Stroud," she nodded, coolly, then went into her room.
Ironically, she, Rosalie Martin, was slated to move up from District Representative into Stroud's place. That is, she and two men were vying for the spot, but Rosalie felt confident' she would win it. Her overall performance as District Representative and supervisor was far superior to those of her two competitors. The only thing not in her favor was her being a woman. Residential Insurance was an old-fashioned, hard line company that had little respect for women.
Rosalie had unpacked and everything had been neatly stored in either closets or drawers, which was another headache out of the way.
Removing her staid blue dress and frilly under things, she went into the luxurious private bathroom and ran hot water in the tub. She noticed the hotel had an assortment of bath oils and soaps on the shelf. She also noticed the full length mirrors that had been treated so they wouldn't steam up, allowing her to view herself.
At forty-two, she looked better than most women half her age. Her stomach was still flat, her waist still pinched, and her thighs still rounded. She had full, firm breasts, the flesh as taut as ever, the areolae a rich tan, and her nipples a nut brown. Facially, she liked to think of herself as a handsome woman rather than a prissily beautiful Dresden doll. Her hair was short and upswept, a chestnut brown with the slightest auburn tinge to it. Her pubic hair, soft and sparse, matching her hair color. She had nice thighs-firm without being muscular, and her calves were full without being fat. All in all she was quite a package, though after her experience with that imitation of a man who had been her husband for so many years she had no desire to have anything to do with men, least of all with Rand Stroud. He was one of those tall, handsome men who thought his good looks were enough to conquer any female. Well she was not just any female. As far as she was concerned, men were good for taking her out, feeding her, putting a little alcohol in her, and a ride home. No man had entered her home since she had thrown her husband out, and she, in turn, had entered no other man's home.
Taking a cigarette from the pack she had brought in with her, she lit up, and sank into the bathtub. Being surrounded by lots of bubbly soap and the delicious aroma of lilacs felt great.
She remained in the tub for a half hour, flicking her cigarette ashes on the floor, and then the cigarette into the nearby commode. She finally emerged, toweling herself down briskly, so that her firm flesh glowed with a rosy hue. She proceeded to dress, putting on a light rayon pair of panties, a very light net brassiere, nylon foot coverings, sandals, and a white sleeveless dress over everything, displaying the cleavage of which she was so proud, daring all men to look, but not to touch.
Leaving her hotel room, she went downstairs and discovered the circular pool surrounded by all the other buildings belonging to the hotel where what she considered were the lesser guests stayed. She rented a long cushion and put it on the wooden chaise she found unoccupied near the pool. From her purse she took a pair of sunglasses, put them on, and laid back, letting the sun's rays do their work.
"You can get a burn if you don't put lotion on," the voice of Rand Stroud broke into her rest.
"Where's Mrs. Stroud?" Rosalie asked, thinking to catch him off-guard.
"At home with the children," he told her, not the least bit perturbed. He'd never made a secret of the fact that he was married while he continued playing the field.
"Ummm! And I suppose you're volunteering to put the suntan lotion on me?" she asked.
"Frankly I'd rather not have you greasy," he replied.
"Frankly, you're not going to have me, at all," she snapped.
"You're mistaken," he assured her, sitting on the wooden chaise next to hers. "I've been waiting for this opportunity for quite some time now, and I intend taking full advantage of it. May I suggest that we walk while we talk? After all, if we remain on our feet, I'm sure you'll feel safer, at least for the moment."
"That's the first intelligent thing you've said," she told him, getting up, noting he was a good six feet tall as she stood next to him.
He had jet-black hair, straight, and combed back with neither a part, nor a wave. His brown eyes were very intense, complementing his natural olive complexion. He had a nose that was just the littlest bit too long, coming to a point. He was a handsome man, with a firm jaw, broad shoulders, and a body which, if not muscular, at least wasn't running to fat. A long time ago he had been fat, when Rosalie had first started with Residential as an insurance agent, but over the years he had lost a considerable amount of weight, and he had kept it off. He wore his blue bermuda shorts and white short-sleeved shirt without straining the material in any way.
They left the hotel grounds and crossed the street to the vast shopping area. All the stores were closed being Sunday. They strolled leisurely, passing many other people out for an afternoon walk.
"Permit me to be blunt," he said, as she lit a cigarette. "You've had your eye on my job ever since you heard I was going to New Jersey to become president of the company."
"And I'll be every bit as good as you, if not better," she told him, blowing a puff of smoke straight ahead.
"Rosalie, in just a few years, Harry Norton, the chairman of the board, will be retiring. I will be moving into his spot. Whoever follows me into the eastern supervisor's job has a good shot at the presidency. There are four different home office districts, and though the other three supervisors will have been with the company for a much greater period of time, there are ways you can insure your becoming Residential's first female president."
"You're telling me then that I'll definitely become the new Regional Supervisor?"
"No indeed. As present supervisor, I can virtually select my own successor. Now you're good enough to follow me, but there are certain prejudices against you. For me to have to choose you over the men, as we both know, you're better than they are, I need one damn good reason. Just remember, if I choose a man over you, the company will approve my choice without a qualm. If I choose you, I'm going to have to really defend my choice. So far, you haven't given me one good reason why I should pick you."
"What is this, some kind of corporate extortion?" she asked, flicking her cigarette away.
"Call it what you will," he shrugged. "To be very blatant, I want your body. I mean to have it in every and any way possible. I'm not telling you I'm going to lift you to paradise, nor am I telling you what a fantastic lover I am. But I am telling you I wish to enjoy myself with you."
"I'm a lousy lady, " she told him.
"I don't care. I fully intend to find out just how lousy for myself. We have a connecting door between our rooms. I expect to be able to walk freely back and forth between the two rooms, and I want to enjoy you."
"Even if I acceded to your demands, I'd probably fight you all the way, once we were in bed. I don't particularly care for sex. My husband made it all so cut and dried."
"Fight me all you want-once our naked bodies are in the same room. Just don't scream, and don't try either kicking me or biting me in any delicate areas. I'm neither a masochist nor a sadist. I don't get pleasure from B and D, or S and M. I like burying my penis in a woman's orifices with as little resistance as possible. You can lie there like a log if you wish, or you can rage and struggle and curse, or-if the mood grabs you, you can even enjoy it, but remember, I want you. I want you starting now, and for the entire convention."
"What guarantee do I have you ll nominate me if I do?"
"I guarantee not to nominate you if you don't. "
"I'd like time to consider it," Rosalie told him.
"The more time you take to consider, the less time we'll spend together. Let's cut the bullshit. You want my job. The only way you're going to get it is by my recommendation. The only way you're going to get my recommendation is to give me what I want. This is what it all boils down to. You do for me, I do for you."
"For how long?" Rosalie asked.
"For starters, the entire time of the convention."
"You said something about the presidency of Residential being open in a few years when you move up to chairman of the board."
"For that, you'll have to be prepared to offer your ... ahhh ... services more liberally, and on a full-time basis."
"There are so many younger women working for the company. Why aren't you going after them?" Rosalie wanted to know.
"Every one of them is ambitious, like yourself. Every one of them is also a bit more realistic. I could have any one of them for the asking, and I eventually probably will. I'll probably have all of them. However you're the one I want as a sort of semi-permanent mistress."
"If I should marry?"
"So what? I'm married. No, dear, I'm afraid I'd want your body even if you got married again. I'd want it even after you were elected president."
"I might promise, and, assuming I am eventually elected, back out, afterward."
"That bridge is a few years away. I'll cross it at the proper time, if that's all right with you."
"I'll hate you every time."
"That should make it all the more interesting. I've never constantly fucked a woman who hates me. It ought to be a novelty. At least there won't be any pretended orgasms or sounds of salacious moanings," he laughed.
"I'll fight you to the best of my ability every time, and if you do succeed in entering me, I'll lie there like the log you mentioned once. You won't enjoy me."
"You underestimate yourself, and overestimate my needs. Come come, Rosalie. No more hassling. Yes or no, here and now."
"If I'm a mistress, I expect to be treated like one," she told him, "even if I'm an unwilling mistress."
"You already have a nice home, you're making nice money, and you're in line for a position which will triple your income. If I choose to bring you any gifts, it'll be because I wish to give them to you, and not because you think you've earned them."
"You're a stingy son of a bitch."
"I think making you regional representative and supervisor of the entire eastern home office is far from being stingy. Yes or no."
They had walked in a big circle and were back at the hotel. They walked inside silently and mounted the stairs. When they came to his door, she turned and said, "If you want me, you'll have to fight to take me. I will not merely surrender myself. I have a certain amount of dignity, and I demand respect."
"So then you're saying no."
"I didn't say that. I simply refuse to say yes."
Rand Stroud was unable to fathom the woman. He watched her go into her room, wondering just what was going on in her mind. He wanted her, he wanted her very much. Part of her attraction was the fact that she wasn't an easy lay. Putting his words together was no simple task.
Entering his. own room, he went to the bathroom and shaved. Dabbing a little cologne on his face, he returned to the bedroom in time to hear a click from the other side of the door connecting his room to that of Rosalie Martin. Now he understood.
It was war, of sorts. She considered herself a prize worth fighting for, at all times. Well, she was right. The foe was the woman, herself. She wanted him to conquer her, otherwise her body simply didn't belong to him. She was reticent enough as it was. That she had come this far under the tremendous amount of pressure he was applying to her was a tribute to Rand, himself.
Opening the connecting doors, he entered her room. She was still fully dressed, sitting in a chair, smoking another of her cigarettes.
"What are you doing here?" she asked. "I didn't invite you into my room."
So, it was a game to be played to the hilt. Fine, Rand Stroud was very good at playing games.
"I decided to come in anyway," he told her. "I have some Pernod in my room, and I thought I might be able to offer it to you."
"I'm not thirsty," she told him, crushing the cigarette out in the ashtray.
"Well then, suppose we get down to more interesting things."
"What are you talking about?" she asked, standing when he began shamelessly undressing before her.
Rosalie felt a strange, shuddering wave of sensation flood through her as the man's naked chest came into view. She stood rooted to the spot as he loosened his belt.
"Don't be gross," she hissed at him. "Kindly leave my room."
She was frozen, unable to move, like a little mouse charmed by an anaconda. She wanted to shut her eyes and block out the terrible sight, but she was afraid he'd jump on her while her eyes were closed.
It seemed to take only a second as he stood in front of her completely undressed. His flesh was tan all over, his swollenly solid penis standing out from beneath his flat stomach like the menacing shaft of a solidly blunted javelin. He looked at her with a crazy kind of grin twitching at his lips as his hand reached down and began half-consciously stroking his heavy, circumcised penis back and forth, making his rubbery, bulbous purple head swell even more.
My heavens! she thought. He puts my husband to shame. I've never imagined any man constructed so big.
It was big, all right. The inches were immeasurable to her eye, but it was the thickness that really got to her. Hell! It would be like shoving a log into her. It was impossible that any man could be built so big.
"You're a truly stunning woman, Rosalie," he gasped, hoarsely. "I've waited a long time for you, and I'm going to enjoy you."
There was a quiver to his voice, and the man seemed to have a certain amount of difficulty breathing. His brain was churning with an overwhelming desire for this woman who had been untouchable for so long. Now she was going to be his, even if he had to fight for it. The basic difference between possessing her now and trying it before they'd had the little talk was that now she would not scream the house down, or sic the police on him for rape, afterward. He would rape her with her consent, if not with her approval. Just thinking about what he intended doing to her made the pulsating hardness in his cock stiffen a bit more.
"Undress!" he said in a low, guttural voice.
"I will not," she snapped, a look of horror and disgust filling her eyes, causing a spark of frustrated lust and burning rage to shoot through him. Who in the damn hell did he think she was, making him work for his cunt when they both knew all along it was the only way she was going to get what she wanted. She was toying with him, playing games. She had refused him all this time thinking herself too good for him. Well, hell, she was no better than all those other women he had fucked. Damn her and her smug superiority. He began moving toward her.
The twisted look of fear that crossed the helpless woman's face moved across like a dark storm, and the twitching in her right eye began to excite the lusts of Rand Stroud even more. He was going to fuck her within an inch of her life. The expression of calm self-assurance was no longer on his face. It had become ugly and twisted with lust.
Something snapped in Rosalie at that moment. She decided no career was worth going through this. She wanted to run out, but he had moved around to block her from the door. Thinking quickly she turned around and rushed through the connecting door, into his room and ran for his door. He had thrown the Do Not Disturb lock on it, and before Rosalie realized how to work it to open it, he was on her.
She spun around, facing him. He grinned again, crazily, his mouth licentiously twisted into a hideous grimace. She saw that in spite of his claim of inner gentility, he did have a streak of sadism in him, and looked at him like a trapped insect caught in a web, watching a spider, the cruel glint becoming stronger in his eyes. She wanted to speak and opened her mouth, but the words simply would not come out. Maybe she might duck under him, but even as she thought of moving, she found herself immobily frozen. His penis now swung from side to side like a giant boom, and to Rosalie it appeared even longer and harder than before. Against her will, her eyes dropped once more to the solidly fleshy instrument, seeing the way it menacingly wavered its way toward her.
Goodness! It was so immense!
Through her fear, Rosalie wondered how any woman was capable of handling such a mighty spear. Yet, from stories about this man, she knew literally hundreds of women had handled him, and not one of them had ever been hospitalized. To her knowledge, none of them had ever complained either. For a moment longer he stood before her, seeing the shuddering fear in her eyes and reveling in the knowledge he had provoked some kind of emotion from her other than disgust. Once again he started moving toward her.
"D-Don't you dare come near me," Rosalie gasped, finally managing to stammer out a sentence through the immobilizing fear she felt. She knew there would be no escape now. She had, by trying to run away, put a slur on his manhood, and now like all men he would have to try and prove himself. He was going to ravish her if she gave him half a chance, no matter how she pleaded with him.
"Either you take off the clothes, or I take off the clothes, and if you're thinking of sneaking around me somehow and getting to your door, I took the liberty of locking it, as well."
Rosalie stood motionless realizing she had no chance whatsoever. There was nothing she was capable of doing against the man's strength. She was all alone, helpless at the mercy of a man who had very carefully spelled out his intentions.
He reached out with his well-manicured fingers, grabbing her face, cupping it in his palms, and with a viciously qufck and sudden jerk pulled her to him.
"I've been dying to kiss those saucy lips for so long," he told her. "Now, little by little, every one of the fantasies I've had about you are going to come true." He pressed his moist lips tightly against hers, thrusting between them with his tongue, letting his oral digit sink deep into the warmth of her moist oral cavern. She stood rigidly in front of him, feeling the upright rigidity of his pulsating penis as it began digging into the softness of her flat stomach. A last ray of intending to tear herself away from this terrible man flickered through her mind, but as his fingers pressed harder, digging into the sides of her face, the hopes faded.
Rosalie felt the pressure of his lips actually sucking hers into his mouth as she fought him, knowing she didn't like what he was doing. She was only dimly aware of his hands leaving her face and snaking around her body to the zipper at the back of her dress. With a single, swift, downward jerk, he pulled it down to the flaring tops of her lovely, rounded buttocks. Rosalie felt a rush of cool air against her naked flesh as he tugged the dress from her shoulders and let it fall in a soft heap around her ankles. His hands, still around her, undid the snaps of her brassiere next, and the flimsy net undergarment fell forward, off her arms, fluttering to the floor. He stepped back for a moment to admire her full, white breasts as they came into his field of vision for the first time. He muttered a faint gasp of lusty appreciation at what he was seeing. He fell to his knees before her as she swayed above him, her mind blanked out for a moment-unable to believe that after all this time a man was truly overpowering her. Her husband had always been a weakling, whining for sex, then never able to properly perform, and he had been the only man to ever make love to her. Love? That was a laugh. There had never been a single night of love between them. All her frustration had been taken out in her work, which was why she had been the best saleswoman Residential Insurance ever had, and why she had been a good division manager and a great company manager.
Stroud reached out with his strong hands and firmly pulled her white rayon panties down over the soft mounds of her quivering buttocks, letting them fall in a small pile of circular cloth around her ankles. With a little prodding, he made her step out of them, and that was when Rosalie snapped out of her gaze.
She suddenly realized there was nothing covering her. She stood before him totally naked, unable to try and run into the hallway since her modest upbringing would make her die of shame to reveal her nakedness to passing strangers. As it was, she was reddening because she was completely undressed in front of this strange man-strange in that there had never been intimate contact with him before. She heard his heart beating as he remained kneeling before her.
Turning, she found herself staggering feeling drunk with terror as his lips suddenly burned themselves into her belly, pressing firmly into her whitely naked flesh, branding their delineated shapes into her. The abrupt, wet contact sent a shuddering chill racing up and down the length of her spine, and she found herself swaying, and she automatically reached forward with her hands locked in his hair to keep herself from tumbling.
Stroud knew this was by no means surrender on her part, but he had her off-balance and he intended taking full advantage of it. He said, with his face pressed close to her body, "I don't know what kind of sexual enjoyment you had when you were married, but here's one thing I'll bet your husband never did." He pressed his lips into the soft V of her groin, spreading the soft, auburn brown pelvic hairs, and like an iguana he flicked his long tongue into the moistly flowering slash of her unprepared vagina.
Rosalie leaped and squealed as the man's tongue made electrifying contact with her trembling clitoris, washing over the tiny bud. She began staggering backward, and he, on his knees, moved with her, until her knee-backs pressed against the mattress of his bed. The edge caught her, and she found herself falling, falling, tumbling on her back, sprawling flatly on the covered mattress, her legs spreading wide apart as she landed.
Rand Stroud leaped up from the floor and delved between her wide-open thighs, catching her in the helpless position in which she lay as the naked female executive fought to clamp her thighs together, wanting to shut him out before he did anything more to her already bruised ego. Stroud clamped his strong hands against the softly white insides of her trembling thighs, pressing them even farther apart. Her eyes were wide open in a combination of astonishment and abject terror, and as she wondered how he had maneuvered her into this position so easily, she struggled against his powerful grip, but it was a one-sided battle all the way. He was now on the bed himself, hunched on all fours, his head and shoulders between her wide-apart thighs, and as he lifted his face to peer between her firm breasts at her astonished face, she thought of him as a ravenous crocodile pouncing on its helpless victim, ready to savagely devour it.
The moistly pink flesh of her completely naked vagina was presented to his hungrily leering countenance like some pagan sacrifice. She lay frozen to the mattress for a moment, feeling shamed in having been subdued so quickly and easily. His tongue was circling his hungry lips in licentious preparation for the ravishment about to take place.
Once again he placed his palms flatly against the tender insides of her soft, white thighs, his thumbs resting on the softest part of her inner loins, reaching out to touch the tender flanges of her vagina. Then, with a slow, torturing outward movement of the thumbs, Stroud tugged the curlicued pink labia stickily apart, exposing the wet pinkness of her inner self to his lust-filled gaze. He stared at her hot cunt greedily for a moment, and then, with an animal-like groan, he instantly dropped his head and sank the entire length of his lengthy, slippery tongue into the heatedly pulsating and throbbing depths of her shuddering vagina. She had leaked so much oil, it was no longer colorless, but had turned to a white froth.
Rosalie gasped and tried jerking her body away, a soul searing moan escaping from deep in her chest. Her whitely rounded nether cheeks ground into the mattress, rotating, spinning, hoping to find a hole somewhere to escape the maddening assault on this hidden part of her.
"I ... uuuuunnnnnnhhhhhhhh ... ohhhhhhhhh ... Ooooooooooooohhhhhhh ... hhhhaaaaannnnnnnhhhhhh ... n-o-o-o-o-o-o-o!! ! " she whimpered in the face of his depraved attack.
Her head was up off the mattress, and she stared in horrified disbelief at this nightmare that was actually happening to her. His head was moving up and down, nodding in rhythm with the way his tongue slurped into her, as if telling her, yes, it was indeed happening to her. He continued hungrily feasting on the wet slickness of her hot cunt, eating vibrantly.
Rosalie had never been subjected to this kind of sexual contact, before. Her husband had performed miserably-had been a missionary style fornicator himself, and though he had often urged her to try fellating him-which she thought was disgusting and so never did-had never once considered doing anything like this to her.
"This can't be, this can't be," she silently muttered to herself again and again, feeling undisguised humiliation and horror, her head falling back on the mattress, then flailing helplessly, whipping from side to side. All the while his tongue continued spearing in and out of her bubbling vagina as her lower inner lips involuntarily dilated in order to make more room for the pressing digit. In spite of her terror and hatred for what was happening to her defenseless vagina, the first tiny wisps of unwanted pleasure began their invasion, rippling deep down inside her laddering belly. His hands reached up over the flat whiteness that was her lovely tummy, crawling over her skin like a many legged insect, finding, feeling, and digging almost harshly into the firmly quivering roundness of her womanly breasts. His fingers rolled the hard nipples between them in a continuous and unrelenting motion that felt akin to fury. As his mouth and tongue worked in a reptilian manner, his slavering subjugation over the widespread tightness of her narrow pussy, his eyes remained wide open, watching with an almost arrogant pride the lined contortions of her pretty face. He stared between the upstanding dunes of her lovely breasts, enjoying the way they quivered. He was waiting, knowing eventually the first signs of surrender would appear, and when a crack in the dam did show, eventually her entire resistance would completely crumble.
Rosalie remained completely frozen, her body temporarily in abject submission to the horribly depraved outrages now being heaped upon her trapped and helpless self. For the moment there was nothing she was able to do, and large tears of self-denigration and humiliation swelled in her eyes. Random and crazy pictures of her former husband flickered through her mind as her ears picked up the noisily vile and wet sucking sounds her superior continued making into the warmly pulsating depths of her sloppily wet vagina. Her husband would never have had the chutzpah to try something like this. This was cruel and inhuman treatment. It wasn't lovemaking. It was a depraved rite probably performed at some kind of black sabbath by witches and demons. She felt more humiliated and ashamed than ever watching him crouch on all fours between her wide-open thighs. It was as if the man was defiling the inner temple of her womanhood, shaming her beyond her wildest imagination, and there simply was nothing she was able to do other than lie there and accept this horrible degradation. She had sworn she wouldn't scream, and that made her feel even more humiliated, because a series of loud screams would bring the hotel personnel on the double.
She inwardly gasped. Is anything worth this evil? Was this new job really worth this humiliation? The worst part of it was, this was only the beginning. Stroud had promised her many more nights of such terrible things ... not to mention the days. She was a slave, committed to him. For the first time since her divorce Rosalie felt truly alone.
Her eyes remained locked on his face, and he, in turn, continued staring at her. All the while he continued the torturing thrusts of his tongue into the wetly clinging orifice that was her cunt. He watched the helpless tears falling over her lovely cheeks with cruel satisfaction. He smirked to himself. Rosalie Martin was helpless and at his mercy, and she was crying all because of what he was doing to her. This was the first of many lessons he intended on teaching her, letting her know she was a cunt, like any other cunt, and cunts were meant to be fucked. Hell, she had always held herself above the animal act of coition, and Stroud laughed to himself, working a little harder with his tongue, thrusting it a bit deeper into her. He was going to show her the true meaning of sex. No matter how much she might hate him, she was going to learn the meaning of a real orgasm. It was a sure bet she'd never had one, because any woman who did have an orgasm wanted more of them, and this one was being so stand-offish all the time. So it stood to reason she had never really enjoyed sexual contact before. Well in the process of pleasing himself, he intended pleasing her. Before the afternoon was over, he'd have her crawling to him on her hands and knees, begging for more. If he had the strength, he'd damn well give it to her too ... and more.
Chuckling quietly to himself, the man brought his strong hands back and down, sliding them beneath the backs of her knees and tugging at the same time so they were splayed widely apart on either side of him. He lifted and shoved them up and over her nakedly squirming body so her kneecaps were on either side of her lovely face, exposing the entire flattened plane of her seething vagina to his wide-open, staring eyes. He had something else in mind and knew this was something that was bound to set her off. He slid his face a little lower and flicked his working tongue into the tightly puckered little hole that was her crinkled anus, teasing it swiftly, shockingly, touching nerves the poor woman had no idea were there.
The unexpectedly wet and searing contact with her tremblingly sensitive rubbery orifice brought a low, shuddering moan of almost screeching anguish from the tortured lips of the lovely brown-haired woman. She clenched her eyes tightly shut, pulling her working lips back, exposing her white teeth as she felt the squirmingly torturous sensation his tongue caused to begin racing out of control through her shuddering body.
"Ohhhhhhh good ... for the love of ... u u u u it n n n nnhhhhh ... heaven ... oooonnnnnhhhhhhh ... don't do ... uunuunnhh ... that, " she whimpered, desperately and anxiously trying to screw her hotly trembling buttocks away from the heatedly flicking tongue licking without mercy at her tiny little rectal rictus. Stroud's answer was a licentious chuckle as he probed even more deeply with his stabbing tongue, pressing into the tight, fleshy ring of her shuddering sphincter.
"Aaaaaannnnnnhhhhh ... hhhhuuuuuunnnnnnhhhhh..." she groaned repeatedly as a series of tiny duck bumps began spreading like a rash over her quivering white stomach and full, heaving breasts.
Rosalie sobbed helplessly before the man's oral attack, feeling the mounting of a new and even more terrible fear. In spite of the fact that this was obviously revolting and disgusting, as well as shaming, she felt her love-starved body starting to desert the rules and regulations her mind had set down at the start. Her rounded buttocks jerked helplessly back without meaning to because of the pressure of the wetly darting oral organ as it continued sending helpless spasms of sweetly delicious sensation coursing through her raw nerves, below.
"Oh no! No! I can't! I mustn't!"
She realized she was starting to lose control of herself, and the shameful impact suddenly hit her. head-on, bringing further cries and moans of humiliation and debasement at the thought that not only was she finally doing something totally wrong as far as her upbringing was concerned, but more frighteningly, she was starting to feel the twinges of enjoyment. She gritted her teeth tightly together, and fought with all her will against the tiny lapping sparks that threatened to suddenly burst into some kind of uncontrollable flame and completely devour her helplessly feminine body. She struggled, she truly struggled, but it was a losing battle as Rand Stroud's tongue lapped and licked unendingly at the naked wetness of her delicious vagina and anus.
After what felt like an unending eternity of long, desperate struggling within the depths of her tortured and confused brain, the dam of emotion suddenly burst, and all the built-in inhibitions she had accumulated over many bitter and frustrating years were washed away in a boiling sea of shuddering lust.
Her shamelessly aroused and wantonly thrilled body began moving, slowly at first, then picking up speed. She continued the writhing, wriggling wanton motion against the lusting pressure of the man's tongue as he thrust it back and forth between her anus and her vagina, delving first into one, then into the other.
Without realizing it, Rosalie's hands once again curled in the man's straight black hair, and a deep, soul-stirring moan rose from deep inside her chest. Forgotten were the thoughts of what she did and didn't do with her husband. Forgotten for the moment was the deep humiliation she felt. All that mattered now were the delicious arrows of delight continuing to deeply pierce her prickling feminine flesh like tiny sharpened needles of burning flame.
Stroud now sensed her final submissive surrender to what he was doing, and he savagely grinned, thrusting the thickness of his wet oral digit into the pinkly quivering sheath of her trembling vagina. She wriggled again, which pleased him, as the wetly soft and silken hairs of her pubis tantalizingly grazed the tip of his nose as well as the sides of his cheeks as she ground her delightfully rounded ass-cheeks in a continuous, slow hypnotic movement against his anxious face.
The woman was his for the moment, and he inwardly gloated, staring with arousal and excitement at the contorted expression of pleasure blanketing her face as her eyes closed and her mouth clamped tightly shut to keep in the sounds aching to leave.
Yes, yes, he had her. It wouldn't be much longer, now, and he felt a sense of excitement burn through him. Soon he would be cramming his hot cock deep into her tremblingly white belly, shooting his eager sperm so far into her it would come out of her mouth. By heaven, she wasn't too good for him anymore. She was just another aching cunt waiting to be properly fucked by any decent cock able to penetrate her. Hell! She hadn't been laid since her divorce. It was almost like fucking a virgin. Oh was she ever going to get it from him.
Their two bodies continued writhing and wriggling on the bed, the man's darker head buried deep inside the widely splayed V of Rosalie Martin's thighs. Her hands clung tightly to his hair holding on as if it were a matter of life and death. Her delightfully ecstatic face was contorted into a half-crazed expression of seething passion that seemed to border on the very edge of hysteria.
Rosalie writhed and wriggled under the continuing pressure of the maddening torture caused by her superior's constantly flicking tongue until she believed her beating heart would literally burst through her trembling chest. Her rolling head was once again lifting itself from the bed, straining forward, watching his face, her hands locked tightly behind the back of his head, pulling the wonderfully punishing lash of his tongue deeper and deeper into her greedily devouring vagina. It appeared as if the deliciously oral fucking would go on forever, and Rosalie wanted it to do just that. Sparks flew inside her, and she shuddered and trembled, aching to peak, but before she was able to do so, Stroud raised his head from between her thighs, pushing her hands away. He rose higher and brought his knees between her open thighs, allowing her legs down on either side of him.
Now that he had stopped and was looking at her, Rosalie felt a strong sense of humiliation, lying beneath this man she had only known as a business superior, totally naked and helpless against the wide-open stare of his constant gaze. She felt more shame than ever because of the weakness that had momentarily possessed her, and she was determined not to let it happen again.
"Now," he said to her, "I'm going to fuck you, probably in the position you were most used to with your husband. Only when I fuck you, it won't feel anything like the way your husband did it, Rosalie. When I get through with you, not only am I going to be satisfied, but so will you."
"I thought you weren't going to make promises of how good you are," Rosalie sneered at him, finding an opening and sticking a verbal barb into it.
"I promise you, no matter what happens, this is one fuck you'll never forget. I can feel my sperm bubbling in my body, and I know I'll be able to hold it back for quite awhile, but I'm telling you, when I do come, you're gonna know it baby."
Rosalie simply lay there, determined not to respond to anything he did. Hell, she had been able to keep her body from responding to her husband all those years. No, that wasn't true. She had wanted to respond to him, but the son of a bitch hadn't done a thing to get her going. He was always in, out, in out, wham bam, no-thank-you, ma'am.
At the moment her lungs were on fire, feeling as if they would burst. Her shuddering belly was shaking and heaving as if the man had already buried his thick pike inside her.
What's wrong with me? she asked herself. I'm behaving as if I want this to happen.
Stroud bent low over her lovely, prostrate form, kissing the fullness of her breasts, one at a time. His tongue came out and stabbed at her nipple, licking it consistently, then it moved to the other nipple, licking it as well. He fastened his teeth around the erect bud of her left breast, feeling it heave and pump. She groaned in pain, attempting to twist away from the suddenness of the sharp torture. His hands continued gently playing over the softness of her lovely hips and thighs, at the same time holding her tight. His lips traveled wetly over her white, palpitating mounds, causing a delightedly blissful twitch to descend, almost feather-like into her vaginal opening, below. Without realizing it, she began bouncing her buttocks, using a slow, impatient grinding motion, churning against the firm mattress beneath her.
"Why not admit it," he whispered to her. "You're starting to get hot, honey." His lips continued slavering over her trembling body, kissing here and there, touching all the inner sensitive parts, his eyes still brilliantly lit with shining desire for her. "I'm going to fuck you like you've obviously never been fucked before. When I first spoke to you, I had no idea just what kind of a lover your husband was. From your reactions I can see the man never did anything to stimulate you. So it isn't that I'm so great, but that you've simply never had a truly decent screwing. That much, at least, I can promise you. By the time the full length of my cock is in your belly, you'll be twisting, turning, squirming and writhing. Honey, I want to see you beg and scream for it."
Rosalie lay frozen, shivering from the very sound of his licentiously obscene words. Their very lasciviousness aroused and inwardly thrilled her no matter how she tried keeping her body under control. She had to find a way to strengthen herself and continue fighting against this monster of a man. To let him know he was reaching her when he finally "opened her up" would be the ultimate humiliation.
"Get those lovely thighs wide apart, gorgeous, I'm coming in, right now," he told her, grinning the grin of a vicious conqueror.
Quivering, half in fear and half in anticipation, the lovely brown-haired Rosalie Martin parted her loins wider, lifting her knees on either side of him. Stroud levered himself above her, his hands resting on her rounded shoulders, his arms stiff and supportive. Once he was in position, he released one of her shoulders, reaching between their bodies, taking his angrily pulsing penis in his tightly gripping hand and guiding it slowly forward, using the thick, rubbery tip to separate her inner labia of her full-fleshed vagina, all slick with a mixture of his saliva and her inner vaginal secretions. Rosalie, not wanting to see the triumphant smirk on his face, turned her head to the side, closing her eyes as he pressed his penis more firmly against the ultra-sensitive ragged edges of her licentiously dripping cunt. She held her breath for what seemed like an infinity of time, lying absolutely still in utter subjugation beneath him, feeling she didn't dare breathe.
"Oooooooh!" she hissed, the breath seeping out of her as she felt the first solid pressure against the tight elastic opening of her shuddering vagina.
He pushed-hard.
"Hhhhaaaa-uuuuunnnnnnnhhhhhh!" she gasped out loud as the massive, blood-bloated, onion-shaped tip slowly slid through her lower lips, working its way into her narrow hole, cruelly stretching the tight, rubbery opening until Rosalie was certain her vaginal lips would be rended wide apart, and her thighs would be torn cruelly from the rest of her body. The relentless outer pressure continued cruelly.
"Ohhhhhhh ... you son of a bitch ... no more ... no more ... you're ... uhhhhhhhhhh . . hurting me!" She was rasping at him with a hoarse voice as the pressure seemed to constrict her very throat. Her eyes had snapped wide open in fear as she saw his sadistic grin of triumph. He seemed to be enjoying the sight of her as she underwent suffering. He continued the cruel, relentless penetration of her heated cunt.
At last! At long last he was fucking Rosalie Martin. He had waited for what seemed like a lifetime for this moment. Were he to die now, it would be worth it. He had achieved his goal, attaining the unattainable. He was in!
The wide grin on his face was no longer one of triumph or achievement. He was now wearing an expression of raw, contorted licentiousness. Stroud was no longer able to move slowly, watching how helpless and seemingly innocent Rosalie looked beneath him, her arms and legs widely spread. He looked a little lower, thrilled to the sight of his cock-head hidden inside the tightness of her squeezing pussy ... and it was tight.
Now was the time to fulfill his ambition completely. Now was the time to fuck her.
Falling forward, he pressed his weight against the rounded domes of her full breasts, feeling them spread like flesh puddles against her body. He slammed his hips forward at the same time that he fell on her, and his thick, lengthy cock slid into her wetly cringing vagina like a raging express train, pushing the shuddering wet flesh of her pink vaginal walls in rippling waves before it. In, in, in, there was no stopping until, with a loud, lustful groan, his sperm-Filled testicles smacked heavily into the upturned cheeks of her tightly clenched buttocks.
"Uuuunnnnnnhhhhhhh ... ohhhhhhhhh..." she gasped, feeling more than a twinge of agony for the moment as she lay there, gasping under him.
She had never been so Filled by her husband in her entire life the swollen massivity of his hotly throbbing cock felt as if it had ripped the flesh from her inner walls, tearing the membranes into tiny shreds as her husband had done to her hymen on the night he had deflowered her. The man was stabbing into her rapidly and without mercy, and she was certain he was giving no thought to the possible injury he was causing her. The thick length was already pumping slowly back and forth, filling her feminine interstice again and again, throbbing against every inner part of her. There was not one little ridge of flesh within her that was spared the pressure of his massive flesh hose as it swelled the walls of her vagina. His swollen cock was enclosed in a wonderful crypt of moistly warm vaginal flesh like a sword cutting cruelly into the belly of its victim.
He lay still for a moment, his face hovering directly over hers. Rosalie also remained unmoving, trying to wait out the pain she knew had to disappear. Then she felt a deep throb far inside her trembling belly as the thickness of Stroud's cock jerked a half inch deeper into her on the in-thrust as he continued flexing it inside her.
"Oohhhhhuuuuuuuhhhhhh!" she gasped, startled, her voice deeper this time, the cords in her neck standing out from the pressure of her resistance.
"You can feel it, can't you," he gasped, looking down at her lovely face.
"There was no answer from her. She clamped her teeth tightly together, hating the moment she had ever agreed to this.
"I asked if you can feel it," he snapped, flexing his cock inside her, bloating the head, making her membranes stretch.
"Ohhhhhhh ... you son of a bitch ... uuuunnnnnhhhh ... don't do that. You damn well know I can feel it."
"I'm glad. You know, I thought I had none of the sadist in me, but I was wrong. Tell me how much you like it."
"I hate it, you bastard."
"Tell me how much you like it," he insisted, flexing the organ again.
"Ohhhhhhhh ... all right ... all right-I like it-I like it . . " The pain was agonizing for her, and if she'd had a knife she would gladly have stuck it in his back.
"Beg for more of it," he snapped at her, a contemptuously cold smile on his face.
"Wh-what?" was all the anguished woman was able to think to say at that moment.
"You heard me. I want you to beg me for it," he repeated, his voice heavy with arrogance.
"What kind of a monster are you? I certainly will not beg you."
"Either you beg me to fuck you, or I promise you, instead of giving you the thrill of a lifetime, I'll give you the pain of a lifetime." To emphasize his words he flexed his anxiously throbbing cock again inside her, plunging it to the deepest part of her squeezing vagina.
"Stop! Stop!" she gasped. "Don't do that, Rand. Sadism wasn't ... uhhhhhh ... part of our agreement," the tortured brown-haired female manager said to him as she fought with all her inner strength to escape this one final humiliation. If she did this thing, it would be the ultimate surrender of her pride. He would do this to her every time they fucked. She shivered, knowing there would indeed be more times. She had committed herself, and to her the idea was horrible. She had to find some way to get out of this. Her pride was the only thing she had left. It was the one thing this horrible man hadn't taken from her. Her self-respect was certainly gone, letting him know indirectly that she would permit him to rape her in order to advance in the company. Hell! She had been smart enough to know he had told the truth about recommendations. He would definitely have ruined any chance she would have had of advancing. Still, she didn't dare beg.
He throbbed his pulsating shaft even more deeply inside her, digging his fingers into the softness of her shoulders at the same time. Sensing she was about to surrender to him, Stroud felt her submissiveness was almost as thrilling as the feeling he was getting with her vaginal membranes tightly wrapped around his cock.
"Do it, Rosalie," he whispered, encouragingly. "A man-likes to feel he's mastered the woman he's fucking. I want to know I've completely mastered you. So beg a little, huh."
"All right, all right," she sobbed, still feeling pain in her shuddering body, her resistance broken by the possibility of even more agony. "Do it to me! Go on and do it to me!"
"Not like that. You're a big girl, now. You know the proper vocabulary. So out with it, honey. Tell me just what it is you want me to do."
"Fuck me you rotten son of a bitch!" she hissed at him, her teeth tightly gritted together, hot tears pouring heavily from her eyes down her cheeks as she all but spat out the degradingly lewd and licentious words. Her humiliation and shame were total and complete, now. This man would be able to boast to everyone at Residential that he had made Rosalie Martin beg for his cock, and she would be unable to deny it. Oh the rotten son of a stinking bitch.
Rosalie felt she would never be the same again. She had allowed herself to be completely dominated by a man, and that was the worst thing of all. She wished she had the courage to throw him off and simply quit the company, but she was too strongly committed now. After this, he'd damn well better make her regional supervisor or she'd cut his heart out with a rusty knife and shove it down his throat. Hell! She was a full-fledged whore, now. She had fucked to get something of value.
The bitter words bored into her mind like some kind of evil omen of horrible doom. She no longer was able to respect herself. Everything she had done up to now had been on merit. This she was doing by using her vagina. This son of a bitch had taken everything she had worked for all these years, and he had made nothing out of it by forcing her to use her cunt to forge ahead. What was the use of even working, anymore. All she had to do was lie flat on her back and be promoted that way, feeling the huge, fleshy instrument fill her vagina a required amount of times.
No! No, it wasn't really true. No amount of fucking would have gotten her to where she was had she not been a capable administrator. Stroud was taking advantage of the fact that she was a woman, but she was damn capable. He might have fucked a lot of company women, but not one of them had been promoted because she knew how to twitch her ass in bed.
Rand Stroud felt the loss of Rosalie's last remaining ounce of resistance. It was as if he was able to see it flying from her trembling body, and he leaned down and gently pressed his hungering lips to hers, kissing and licking her mouth as he began pounding with regularity between her lovely thighs. The tightly narrow passage of her squeezing and clutching vagina began widening, first a little, then a little more as he stroked into it with short, rapid strokes. Rosalie groaned, once again feeling helplessly defeated by him.
Stroud knew if he was able to contain himself long enough he'd be able to turn this resisting female executive into a luscious mass of totally helpless and wanton desire. He sensed it by her earlier reactions to his constant touching. Even though she was continually resisting him and, in her own way, fighting him, just as she promised she would, he knew there was a lambent flame flickering deep down inside her; a wantonness waiting to come out that had never been brought to the fore by any man before him. Although he'd never thought of himself as an exceptional lover, Rand Stroud knew he was good enough to make almost any female come. He would make certain this particular woman was turned on, today, and thereby assure himself of less resistance in the future. Oh, she would resist. She would always resist. That was her way, just as it was his way to fight through that resistance and fuck her again and again. He had a lot to teach her, and teach her he would. There would come a time he'd have her so heatedly aroused, she'd come begging him to fuck her if he didn't continually chase her. She wasn't the type to go after other men. He knew Rosalie Martin. She had a strict code by which she lived. She never back-stabbed, and by the same token would never permit herself to be fucked by more than one particular rapist at any one time. As long as his cock was around, she would never seek any other. True, she might be attacked, but that was something he was willing to accept. Hell! He was willing to accept her fucking for other men, too, but she simply wouldn't. That wasn't her way, or so he believed.
Rosalie's body began reacting involuntarily to what he was doing. There was no longer any reasons for her to fight, since all her resistance had been drained. The pain inside her was slowly turning to a throbbing ache, and it mingled with a new sensation; a sensation her husband had never been able to build inside her. As her anguish continued fading, her desire began mounting, and she discovered she was completely surrendering to the movements of this lewd man who was consistently fucking her. His massive organ skewered into her again and again.
Her naked, womanly body was feeling more and more ardent desire building, and once again, against her will she discovered she was moving in time to the way he was thrusting into her vagina. The heavy penis widened her a bit more, and now there was neither pain nor discomfort, but a mingling series of throbbing sensations she had never known were hidden within her. She groaned, and when he kissed her again, she sighed into his mouth, her tongue suddenly responding and licking his, also lapping his palate, and then finally shoving itself with deep abandon into his throat. Her mouth was issuing low hums of servile acceptance as it poured in torrents from deep inside her shuddering chest, her face twisted and contorted with lusting passion, mouth working, neck and thighs straining, nostrils dilated as a light film of perspiration broke out all t over her shuddering body. Her hair was now disheveled and fell loosely around her head.
Stroud slipped his hands down along her sides, moving them beneath the roundly warm globes of her tantalizing and bouncing buttocks, grasping them harshly, squeezing them as his fingers dug into her lovely flesh, pulling and pressing and massaging. He remembered with a lust-inciting clarity the way her body had filled out the flimsy summer dress he had stripped from her, when he had been looking at her and imagining what it would be like to hold her like this. Once more the realization came to him that Rosalie Martin was now his-his to do with as he pleased. Contrary to what Rosalie believed, Rand Stroud had no intention of telling anyone what he was doing with her. Hell! He wanted the rest of the world to go on thinking she was untouchable, thereby making her all the more his.
Shamelessly aroused now, Rosalie's body jerked up and back, up and back, her buttocks tightening and loosening, thrilling to the pressure of the fingers clutching them. He tugged her all the harder against his body, feeling her tugging her thighs open a little wider, the wetly heated basin of her steaming vagina now flowering open the better to receive him. His wetly pistoning penis pounded into her without mercy, and mercy was the one thing Rosalie no longer wanted. What she did want, even though her mind would not admit it, was to be fucked.
There wasn't even the slightest hint of pain now, and her thighs on either side of his impaling lance of solid muscle were jerking and quivering with wanton abandon. Her bright eyes were looking straight up-seeing nothing, and her lips were as hungry as his, kissing his mouth with a passionate fervor, wanting more and more of his wonderful kisses. Small cat-like sounds of satiny pleasure were sliding out of her throat, and her entire body was shuddering and straining with intensity as she wantonly wriggled beneath him because of the overpowering sensations she was thrillingly enjoying. The only thoughts running through her mind at that moment concerned the sweetly delicious thrill of being fucked. This, then, was what it was really like. This was what she had missed all the years of her marriage, and after. She thrilled to the sensation of lying beneath this man who was fucking her against her will, having literally raped her, and now the only thought in her mind was to try and return the pleasure he was imparting to her.
Stroud worked above her, pumping back and forth, changing from high gear into overdrive, though his strokes were smoother and longer. His hard cock now pulled almost all the way out until only the penile tip was lodged inside her seething dell of femininity, and then he slammed forward again into her anxiously uptilted ass-cheeks, hitting her with such vehemence, he actually drove her a fraction of an inch back on the bed. The harsh slap of his hairy and wrinkled scrotum whacked into her unprotected ass-cheeks, as well as against the tiny pucker of her anus now that her rectal cheeks had relaxed. There was one more thing to do to enhance her thrills, and Rand Stroud did it. He reached down with his hand, and pressed his forefinger against the dimple of her rectal opening. It was warm and rubbery, and it instantly worked against the pressure of his finger as her buttocks continued rubbing against his upper thighs.
Pressing carefully, his index finger moved slowly forward, and then, with a sudden thrust, he pushed it inside her, feeling the ring of her sphincter yield to the driving attack.
"Okhhhhhhhh!" she gasped, feeling a little discomfort, the sound automatically tumbling from her lips. This time there was no real pain though her mind wondered why he was plumbing her anal depths.
Stroud thrust harder, taking pleasure in hearing her make sounds of total subjugation, knowing all the more that she was his to do with as he pleased.
"Ohhhhhhh!" she gasped again, but this time there was no respite as he continued pushing his finger deeper, deeper, and deeper, stretching the rubbery softness wider and wider as he ground further and further into the tightness of her elastic-rectal tunnel. Moments later, he slid his middle finger in as well, feeling her anal shaft widen as all inner resistance finally gave way. Now two fingers were in the depths of her rectum.
The deep, hungering sounds in her chest had lessened a bit, as she was afraid of the pressure of his fingers inside her back passage. The moments passed, and though he was unable to really thrust with his fingers because he was concentrating on pounding his penis into her, he kept them both buried to their fullest in her rectum, and little by little Rosalie became aware of an intensifying pleasure inside her. Her rear tunnel was becoming accustomed to the unnatural attack.
Stroud kissed her all the harder, mentally smiling as she kissed him back again while rotating her ass-cheeks against his fingers, and as he pumped into her, her own body moved so that his fingers were now fucking her ass just as his cock was fucking her tight cunt-made tighter by the pressure of his fingers working in her rectum.
Rosalie moaned, helplessly skewered between his driving fingers and pounding penis. She mewled in wantonly hopeless abandon, wondering why she was enjoying it all, and then simply accepting it without asking questions. She began writhing and twisting as she moaned under this dual ravishment, loving every bit of it, though refusing to admit it to herself.
Stroud slid his other hand very slowly up the rounded cheek of her behind to where his phallus was smoothly sliding in and out of her seething grotto, feeling the tenderly soft, hair-lined folds clinging tightly to his rigid and plundering solidity.
He began fondling, teasing and tantalizing her pink, wetly contracting vaginal lips, touching the parts of her inner labia his cock was unable to massage, bringing even stronger moans of abandoned and wanton lust from her gasping mouth, and at the same time he felt her greedy vagina devouring his cock more hungrily.
Stroud quickened his thrusts, slamming his cock into her with hotly pulsating, deep lunges as Rosalie's ripe body continued to thrash beneath him. For the first time in her life she was ready for an orgasm. He sensed it as her thighs on either side of him jerked even wider apart and her buttocks bounced more swiftly.
Yanking his fingers from her rectum with a loud, shuddering "pop" he once again lifted her knees and pushed them back, lifting her ass way up, bringing her hot cunt into even closer contact with his own pistoning loins. He piledrove into her with merciless power, slamming hard, pounding his organ deeper and deeper into her wetly sucking tunnel.
"Unh-unh-unh..." she chanted cadently beneath him, her lovely face a screwed-up and totally unrecognizable mask of abandoned and lusty passion.
Stroud grunted and gasped as he continued increasing the power of his thrusts into her, grinding solidly and deeply into her recesses so that his penis drilled far up into hidden, never-before-touched recesses of her vaginal sheath.
Her fully swollen breasts heaved and shuddered, rubbing against his almost-hairless chest, the tiny, hardened nipples digging into him like chips of burnished flint.
Rosalie felt a wildness she had never known before. This was what sex was all about. This was what the love books raved about. The sensations she was feeling were verbally indescribable, and she shuddered and quivered with delight as the thrilling orgasm began sweeping up and over her, flooding her body. She was trembling hot iron beneath him.
"Wh-what's happening to me?" she gasped.
"Just, ... ooooohhhhhhhh ... what I ... ahhhhhhhh ... told you..." he gasped. "You're coming, sweetheart, you're coming."
Though her bellows echoed loudly inside her, she had jammed a pillow from beneath her head over her face at the last second, and her anguished convulsions were not heard beyond the room. Rosalie's tight pussy dilated and spread open as floods of water gushed from within her, splashing all over both their fulcrums, drenching both their thighs. All the while the man's cock continued pistoning in and out of her trembling body, and she thrilled as she had never thrilled before, in ecstatic throes the like of which she had never believed to exist until this moment. He thrust faster, digging deeper and deeper into her, wanting her to remember this lay, her first one with a climax, all the rest of her life. If she enjoyed this one, the others would be a lot easier-and there definitely would be others. Even as he pumped, Rand Stroud was planning the next few days with Rosalie.
The brown-haired female executive convulsed and thrust her hot cunt against his body repeatedly, the lips of her vagina working to suck his cock in the hope of milking his sperm. She was breathing with short, desperate gasps, and he thrust into her again, suddenly feeling his own wildly spewing semen burst forth from the tip of his cock.
Stroud's lips clamped tightly against those of Rosalie Martin, and his shout into her mouth was heard in the depths of her belly as he screamed, "OHHHHHHHWOWWWWWW-WWWWAAAARRRRR-RRGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!"
His shooting sperm mingled with her juices deep in her belly in a wet pool of passion and lust that Rosalie had no idea existed. She was in heaven, feeling thrills the like of which were totally beyond her ken.
He released her legs and they fell down again on either side of him, two limp towers splayed obscenely on either side of his pistoning pump. Her heart pounded in her chest as if ready to break through her rib cage. Her nakedly quivering body was beaten and satiated as never before, and Rosalie felt waves of shame and humiliation roll over her as she remembered where she was and who the man was, now lying heavily on top of her, his thick, deflating penis still sunk in the depths of her vaginal tunnel.
"You liked it," he gasped into her ear, his mouth near her head. "You liked it, no matter how much you deny it."
Rosalie stiffened and said, "It was all right, but I'd appreciate your leaving me alone, now. I'd like to go to my room."
Stroud had expected this reaction from her. She wasn't the kind of woman who broke down with a single fucking. No, it would take time, lots of time, and he would have to expend lots of energy-but what a delicious way to expend the energy.
He pulled out of her and Rosalie thrust him off her, got to her feet and hurried to her room where she took another long bath.
CHAPTER TWO
When Rosalie came down to the dining room for dinner that evening, she was led to a table already occupied by Rand Stroud. As a gentleman, he stood until she was seated.
Inwardly she seethed at the sight of the man. He'd had no right to humiliate her and make her feel so cheap. Her body had an entirely different reaction; one she refused to accept. It glowed and felt good, really good for the first time in a really long time. In fact, it felt good in an entirely different way than it had ever felt good, previously.
When she had finished her second bath, Rosalie had slept a good three hours. Her orgasm had sapped a lot of vitality from her. She hadn't been used to the effect.
"You look ravishing," Stroud complimented, staring at her low-cut green cocktail dress.
"I feel ravished," she replied. "One good thing about public meeting places is the fact that you can't attack me, again."
"You really are sarcastic," he laughed.
The food in the Bahamas was similar to the fare served in England. It was bland, almost tasteless, and was wonderful for anyone on a diet. The tastiest thing on the menu was a cut of roast beef, and even that was a bland piece of meat.
"May I take you out this evening?" Stroud asked.
"Is tonight going to be a repeat of today?" she asked.
"My name is Strand, not Samson," he replied. "Rosalie, if you want to fight me in the bedroom that's your privilege. I already agreed to your ground rules. However, when we're in public, I think a little civility is in order. After all, I can understand your not wanting the rest of the world to know about our private lives, but by the same token there's no reason to make everyone think you hate me."
"Ah, but I do hate you," she replied. "You know that."
"That's only a temporary thing," he assured her. "Eventually you'll learn to like me."
"Next you'll say I'll learn to fall in love with you."
"I'm not asking for miracles," he answered. "However, when a woman responds as you did this afternoon, it can't be all hate no matter what you think you feel. Now, before you come up with another sardonic witticism, would you care to spend the evening with me?"
"I've nothing better to do," she shrugged.
"Good. You know, one day you're going to give me a simple yes when I ask a question, and it might be enough to make me keel over."
"In that case, yes, yes, yes, please do keel over."
"You're angry with both, me and yourself," he told her. "In spite of what you think right now, you don't really hate me. And I really like you."
"Whatever would I do without you, Dr. Freud."
"I like the comparison," he told her. "After all, Freud said everything in the world is related to some sexual happening or other."
"I wonder how you figured that out," she snapped.
They sat in the lobby after leaving the dining room, letting their food digest. Stroud brought her an after-dinner drink, a mild aperitif, and they sat, watching the people walk by, laughing and talking. She smoked two cigarettes in that time, deciding she'd probably die of lung cancer because smoking was one habit she was unable to break.
It was almost nine-o'clock when they left the hotel in a taxi going to a nearby nightclub where some of the top talent in the United States came.
Rosalie had two more drinks and four more cigarettes, while Stroud neither smoked nor drank.
At about eleven he did order a small snack for the both of them, and then they left.
Next he took her to the huge gambling casino that was doing a heavy business. The hookers were easy to spot, wandering through the room, trying to pick up a room for the night, and some money as well.
The roulette tables were automated, the wheel constantly spinning electrically, and Rosalie decided she wanted to try a little roulette. She insisted on using her own money.
Stroud took her to one of the fifty different blackjack tables, and there he helped her recoup half her losses. Finally he led her to the craps table, and picked up a hundred dollars for himself, and Rosalie's other twenty-five dollars.
It was two in the morning when he led her back to the hotel. He saw her to her room before going to his own, and Rosalie decided that had he been single, he might have been attractive.
When Rosalie went to sleep that night, she slept more peacefully than she had in many a long night. She awoke the following morning alert and wide-awake, no morning hangover, and no loginess.
When she went down to breakfast, she found herself alone. It was a buffet breakfast, and she went over to the long table and selected sausages and hot cakes with syrup. She had no idea whether Rand Stroud was still asleep, or if he had come down and had eaten ahead of her.
After breakfast, she returned to her room, put on a blue sun-and-swim suit, took a bathing cap with her, and went to the pool. She rented another cushion for one of the wooden chaises, and this time she covered her arms and body with sun tan oil. Then she lay down, face-up, with a pair of sunglasses on, and for the next half hour allowed her body to soak up some of the solar rays.
Afterward, she swam in the pool for an hour, on and off, then pulled herself out and took off her swim cap. Going to her room, she showered, then dressed in her white sun dress. By then it was lunch time, and she finally met Stroud at the table.
"Hi," he greeted her. "How are you feeling this morning?"
"It's afternoon," she told him. "Just barely after, but still afternoon. Were you sleeping all this time?"
"No, I was helping to set up the different seminar rooms for the various little conferences after the big one. You know, we have to justify our being here to Uncle Sam so Residential can take all this off their taxes. With any kind of luck, you'll be doing this, next year."
"Then you are going to recommend me for regional supervisor?"
"After yesterday, did you doubt it for a moment?"
"I didn't know what to think," she shrugged. They ordered and had a light lunch. Afterward, he said, "I would love to have another great afternoon with you, but we have to stay in the lobby and greet all the salesmen and managers. However, there's always this evening, after the opening meeting."
"Just remember, I'm not giving anything away, willingly."
"You're worth fighting for, Rosalie. You may not know it, but you react naturally in bed. You're a woman who will never actually have to be taught. Your body seems to know how to properly respond, and that's good."
"I'm pleased to hear I'm a better lay than I believed. "
"Better? Hon, to be frank, you're probably the best I've ever had, and believe me, I've had literally hundreds."
"Do all men like to boast of their conquests?"
"I don't know about all men," he said to her. "I do know I normally don't talk about them. As a matter-of-fact, the only conquest I've really talked about with you, has been-you. You really had to be conquered. I'm glad, in a way."
"Next time, go shove it into a meat slicer."
"Only if you're the meat slicer."
After lunch, they went to the lobby and began greeting the incoming members of the eastern home office. A card had been prepared for each one, giving them their room and dining table numbers. It was a long, dull, dreary afternoon, and
Rosalie was glad when it was over. By then, Rand Stroud had left.
"You know," a voice said to her as she was getting ready to leave, "you and I ought to have a talk."
Looking up from where she was sitting, Rosalie saw the man talking to her was Stanley Bright, one of the other district representatives with whom she was vying for the job of regional supervisor. Bright was a man of medium-height, and his light brown hair had a tinge of gold to it. The sun would probably bleach it. He had a roundish face, and when he smiled his teeth had a kind of crooked look to them. He was neither fat nor thin, and he was always immaculately dressed in a suit that was out of style. Today he was wearing a gray herringbone, and his tie was still closely knotted around his throat.
"What do we have to talk about?" Rosalie asked.
"Many things," Bright told her. "Basically, you and I are competing for the same position now. You know, I've always liked you, Rosalie. We might confound everyone by getting married, and then sharing the position."
"Stan, you and I hardly know one another. I don't think marriage is a good thing at a time like this."
"So we don't know one another. So what? We can always learn."
"Suppose neither of us gets the job."
"You can always divorce me, if you wish."
"I'd prefer an annulment."
"Do you mean you'd deny me my husbandly right?"
"Stan, you want a marriage of convenience. If I went through with such nonsense, which I won't, it would not be convenient for me to go to bed with you."
"Would it be convenient if we didn't get married?" Bright asked, a smirk on his face.
"Whether in business or for pleasure, you're looking to fuck me any way you can," she said, standing up. "Sorry, Stan. Thanks, but no thanks."
"You don't know what you're missing."
"If I don't know, I can't miss it, can I. So long."
She left Stan Bright and went to her room to lie down.
Promptly, at seven o'clock, she was in the dining room now. Heavily peopled with the cream of the Residential Insurance Company's sales force, as well as all the managers, division managers, and district representatives like herself. She was wearing a black and white cocktail dress with a single strand of pearls.
There was a dais set up at the far end of the room, and on it, the chairman of the board, the president, the four regional home office supervisors, and two district representatives were seated there. The one vacant seat was for her." It was right next to the chairman, Harry Norton. Norton was old-probably close to seventy. He ought to have been retired years ago, Rosalie thought.
"I've been hearing many glowing reports about you," he said, smiling at her, the wrinkled leather face creasing and the slightly crooked nose bobbing a little. "Rand, Mr. Stroud, has already recommended you be his successor. I admit I was a bit dubious, at first, but when he showed me your record, I was highly impressed. Tell me, would you do me the favor of allowing me to be your escort for the rest of the evening?"
"Why I'd be delighted," Rosalie replied.
"Mrs. Norton passed on quite a few years ago, and it's been awhile since I've had a young lady with me."
"It's nice being referred to as young again," she smiled.
The meal was no less bland than it had been the previous evening, and then Norton stood up and gave a small welcoming speech. Afterward, the president got up and announced the different seminars that would take place the following day. Everyone had to choose at least three of them and attend each for at least an hour. Rosalie knew what a waste those seminars were, but as Rand Stroud had pointed out, the company had to justify the tax deduction somehow.
After dinner was over, Norton escorted Rosalie to the gambling casino where he proceeded to lose two-thousand dollars at roulette. He gave her a fifty-dollar bill and like an adult talking to a child, said, "Why don't you get some quarters and play the slot machines."
"Mr. Norton," she said, "I can't take your money."
"Nonsense," he told her. "It all comes from Residential. It's part of my expense account. You belong to the company, so by all means spend some of it. You're young, my dear. Enjoy life."
Rosalie shrugged, went to the slots and proceeded to lose the entire fifty dollars. When she returned, Norton had lost another three-thousand at the dice table.
"Come," he said, "I'm an old man. I have to be in bed, early. Shall we go."
CHAPTER THREE
From the way he talked to her, it was obvious Harry Norton regarded Rosalie to be a little girl. Well, she was thirty years younger than he, but it was still no reason for him to talk to her as if she were in grade school.
At Norton's request, she accompanied him to his room, and even went inside, albeit unwillingly. Once the door was shut and locked, and the lights were on, he draped an arm over her shoulder, saying, "I'm not as spry as I used to be, my dear, but I think I can still manage a little now and then."
What the hell was the man talking about?
That was when she felt it. He had an erection, and he was pressing it against one of her hips. She tugged her hip away, noting how he attempted to follow the movement of her body by pushing his loins against her.
Lowering her eyes, Rosalie saw the bulge in the front of his pants, and she was surprised a man of his age was capable of becoming aroused. It pushed against his zipper, and she was almost fascinated, watching the way it leaped up and down inside his trousers.
The old man had suddenly become very ardent, and he pulled her to him, pressing her rounded contours to his hungry body, holding her tight. She wanted to pull away, but knew she dared not offend him at least until the convention was over and he was no longer company chairman. Right now, he and the president had complete control over who was going to be promoted to what. Heat was rising from between his unsteady legs, and she realized that in spite of his age, he was a hot and horny man, no different from the younger men who wanted her.
"Stay close to me," he whispered, and she detected the odor of whiskey on his breath. He had snaked a drink, somehow. "I want to hold you here, in my arms, and remember."
Rosalie wanted to laugh and had to fight to hold it in. To do so would be the end of her career at Residential, and she just wasn't in the mood to start all over again with another insurance company. That thought alone killed the humor of what was happening.
"Now, my dear," he whispered, still talking to her as if she were a little girl. "Just do as I say, and you'll have nothing to worry about. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Mr. Norton."
"We're friends, aren't we? In private please call me Harry."
I'll call you an old lecher, she thought to herself.
He began moving his hips circularly, pressing his front against her body. He was gripping her more tightly than ever. His hands released her arms and Rosalie knew better than to pull away this time. He was stroking her bare flesh above the neckline of her dress. She shivered, hating this, not wanting to let him touch her, knowing all the while that she had no choice. If she was to survive and go on to the top, she had to undergo this indignity.
His hand was already behind her, undoing her dress, pulling the zipper down. She stood there motionless. At least she wouldn't have to help him. Then he found the snaps holding her brassiere, and he untied them, pulling it away, letting her breasts fall free. Now she stood there with her dress down around her hips, her breasts standing up and staring back at the old man whose bright eyes gleamed with lust. He was licking his chops, probably the way the wolf did when he saw Red Riding Hood. The old reprobate looked very much like a hungry wolf.
Norton pulled her against him, and Rosalie stood very, very still, not making a sound. She remained there in the circle of his arms letting him do all the things he wanted, certain his erection, solid as it was now, would never hold up should he attempt to push it into her.
His wrinkled, arthritic-gnarled hands now moved to the front of her body, massaging her breasts. For the first time she discovered what it felt like to be pawed by hands that felt like claws and fingers. She felt like a naughty girl who was being punished by her grandpa for having done something she ought not to have done. Even so, the man was a stranger, and she was disgusted with the idea of having to allow him to paw her. He rubbed her nipples, and little tingles of lust shot through her like sparks. She realized her nipples were hardening to the man's touch. Heat was spreading involuntarily through her body. Immediately she realized her body was remembering what Rand Stroud had done to her, and it was expecting more of the same treatment. Not that she had approved of what Stroud had done, but it was certainly preferable to this.
"You certainly have a fine pair of breasts," the old man complimented. "And your lovely skin is so smooth. I see you've been taking advantage of your time here to get a tan. I can see how white your breasts are compared to the rest of your torso. Tell me, are you still married?"
"No," she said in a small voice.
"Ah, but you must have had some physical activity since you began leading a single life."
"Not really," she replied, having no intention of revealing her relationship with Rand Stroud. "I've immersed myself in my work for the company."
"Ah, I see. You've done excellent work, too, but a woman like yourself is still young and vital, and should give her body a certain amount of pleasure. Were I five years younger, I, myself would still be equal to the task."
Was he telling her he had no intention of trying to fuck her, after all? She hoped so. It would be a blessing. If that was the case, she might be able to put up with his gropings, though his very touch made her shiver with disgust.
"Yes, of course," was all she was able to reply.
"Rosalie, sweet Rosalie," he whispered. "Compared to me you're so young, and you're so innocent in so many ways."
Rosalie sensed the bulge in his pants swelling and enlarging, and then he took her hand and pressed it against the bulge. She knew he wanted something after all, but refused to demean herself by squeezing his cock.
"Please undo my pants," he requested.
Oh no! More humiliation! Would it never end?
Her shivering fingers pulled down the zipper, then undid his belt, and the pants fell down around his feet. She helped him step out of them, thinking how ridiculous the man looked in his embroidered boxer shorts. At his insistence, she unwillingly pulled those down, as well. The penis at which she stared was in a semi-erect state. Once it had probably been quite a solid and formidable organ. Now, it would never fully harden again. All things considered, it was obvious the old man had been quite a rake in his time.
Rosalie was kneeling in front of him, now, and he looked down at her, and said, "Rub it, Rosalie. I'm sure you know how."
Reluctantly, not wanting to do so, not daring to refuse, she wrapped her fingers around the throbbing pole and began tugging it back and forth. At first she held it gingerly, but its softness demanded she squeeze it a little tighter, and she did so. Her hand moved back and forth, wondering what kind of a thrill the old man got when it was so flaccid. Her husband had also had troubles with his erection, but once it had stopped hardening, he'd had the decency to stop bothering her.
Norton was groaning and sighing with continually mounting desire. He was getting hotter, and the heat was reflected in the temperature of the organ she gripped, tugging back and forth with increasing rapidity. Heavy beads of perspiration began building on his forehead, running down his brow, and he was quaking with lust as Rosalie continued tugging on his organ.
Rosalie tried to shut her mind to what she was doing. She didn't think of herself as an individual, but rather as a mannikin to be manhandled by this old fool who had power over her, commanding her body. Her existence did not matter to, and she hoped this was an incident her mind would quickly forget, once it was over and done with. She tried her best to think of herself as being completely uninvolved. This man was abusing his power over her, and she didn't appreciate it.
"You're doing a fine job," the old man croaked. "Don't stop. Just keep on doing it to me until I tell you what else I want you to do."
What else? What in heaven's name else was there for her to do? He'd make her go on and on until her arm fell out of its socket. Just how long did he want her to do this vile, unholy deed? Uuuggggghhhhhh! The mere touch of his lizard-like skin disgusted her. She felt as if the man was causing all kinds of terrible things to happen within her, and she pulled faster, hoping to end this all the sooner.
"Stand up while you do that," he ordered, and she reluctantly got to her feet.
He kissed her throat, letting his old and withered lips move around her flesh. He was licking and sucking her throat, and she was afraid he'd leave hickey marks. His hands reached for her breasts again and began massaging her nipples, pulling on them much the same way she was tugging on his penis. His organ was getting hotter and hotter in her hand, and it was even stiffening a little. Hell! If it got much hotter, it'd burn the skin off the palm of her hand. One thing was certain, and that was, no matter how hot it got, she didn't dare let go. Harry Norton was too old to forgive even the slightest insult, even if it hadn't been meant as an insult. He was certainly too old to think of pleasing her, and at this point was selfishly interested in satisfying his own desires. Everyone and anyone in Residential was at his command.
There was no doubt about it. His penis was definitely stiffening. How long it would remain stiff she had no idea, nor did she particularly care, but she did know she wanted this abominable happening over and done with as quickly as possible.
Rosalie continued pumping the penis up and down, listening to the old man prattle on with delight at the feeling he was giving her, assuring her that she was-as efficient this way as she was working for Residential. The little hint he was throwing at her was not lost on her. As the company chairman, he expected her to do anything and everything he said, even though she had no wish to continue doing so. Even Stan Bright-forbid-was preferable to this.
"You're doing a truly wonderful job," he assured her. "My body is becoming aroused as it hasn't been for quite some time. Just continue doing as I ask. Ah, yes, you're good, very, very good."
He was all but chewing on her neck now like some evil vampire, his licking tongue slimily running around her throat. Then his mouth moved down the front of her body. It was obvious his lips were heading for her breasts. This was something she had expected, and she heaved a frustrated sigh, more anxious than ever to be away from here. She was glad the president of the company had brought his wife. At least he wouldn't be chasing after her.
Her breasts were heaving up and down as his lips approached them. It was obvious from the glow in the old man's eyes that he loved the sight of her brown nipples straining so erect.
Harry Norton was not nearly as senile as he appeared. Had he been so, he would have been retired much earlier. He knew Rosalie was doing this unwillingly, because no young woman liked the idea of making love to an older man. Power had its advantages. The trouble was, he was shortly going to lose that power. He decided he might as well take advantage of it this one last time. Hell! He had worked long and hard to get where he was. As the company chairman he certainly deserved whatever fringe benefits he was able to derive from the company, even if they . included unwilling women.
Once, not too long ago, the women had been more than willing. Though he had fed his wife as much cock as she had desired, he always had more left over for some other young girl. Residential had hired many, many young women over the years. Most of them had lasted a short time, but those who remained, eventually fell under the scrutiny of Harry Norton, and he took full advantage of any and every opportunity. He had even sired children on some of them; something he had been unable to do with his own wife. Much of his salary had gone to the care and upbringing of these children, and one or two of them were salesmen for the company, today. He had no intention of helping them further though. No one had helped him attain his position. He wanted his children to succeed as he had done. Yes, he was doing the right thing.
Lowering his head a bit more, he ran his tongue around the mound of Rosalie's white breast. Ah, her flesh was so tender and tasty to his tongue. She had such clean flesh.
Norton had one of her breasts in the palm of his hand, and he was fondling it with a tender gentleness. All things considered, he was being very considerate of Rosalie as far as he was concerned. Hell! The other women had been bitten and chewed. He was on his best behavior with this one.
"Like my cock?" he asked, knowing he was taunting her but unable to resist it.
Rosalie wanted to tell him he made her stomach turn and that the mere presence of him was enough to make her throw up, but she had the good sense to hold it in. Soon he would be gone, and she wouldn't have to put up with the man. Rand Stroud would be her only problem, and compared to this old beast he would be a relative pleasure, though she was not ready to really admit as much-not even to herself.
The old man's entire mouth engulfed her full breast, or as much of it as possible. His breath burned her flesh, and his mouth was so consistently sodden. His lips pulled back and sucked at her nipple as he smacked his lips around it. When he lifted his mouth from her breast, she felt his wet saliva drying.
His mouth returned to its sucking, and Rosalie wondered if it was possible for her nipple to literally fall off with all the oral attention it was receiving. The man sucked constantly, without letup, and she wondered how much longer before her hand would make him release his ejaculate. She knew he intended sucking her and fondling her until he came.
"Rosalie!" he gasped. "Ohhhhhhhhh! You have such good hands, and you taste so delicious. I think an old man like myself is going to fall in love with you, if only for a little while."
Her hand was soaking wet, and she hoped he might be coming, but when she looked down she saw it was an overabundance of his colorless lubricant seeping from the tip in his cock. He probably hadn't lubricated so heavily in at least fifteen years.
Taking her hand from his throbbing cock, she wiped it on the bedspread, but when she would have returned to jerking his organ he grabbed her hand. She wondered what was going through his mind and why he had suddenly stopped her. It made little, if any sense. What the hell, it was just as well. That damn penis of his had been much hotter than that of Rand Stroud, and she had felt very uncomfortable with her fingers around it. More of the clear lubricant was bubbling from the tip of his penis, dripping to the floor, and it made her shiver with disgust. Rosalie hoped the man would simply let her go. She hated to admit it, but touching his old, now solid organ had started the arousing fires in her. She didn't enjoy such feelings, and felt the sooner she stopped touching him, the sooner all this would end. Hell! Any other man would have fired three times over with the way she had jerked his pump handle.
She stood there, looking at the old man as he began removing the rest of his clothing. He stood back and away from her, and he was wearing a wicked smile on his old lips when he stared at the full roundness of her breasts, heaving up and down, bobbling a little with her exhalations. He had no idea how old she was, though he knew she was no youngster, yet her breasts were as full and as firm as the mounds of any teenager.
Rosalie stared at his upstanding organ. It was all white except for the head, and that was such a pale pink it might as well have been white. The blue veins were very clearly running around and around it, and it made her wonder if all penises had as many veins. Had this man been a bit younger, his penis would easily have rivaled that of Rand Stroud. It was one big organ all right, and in its hey-day, it had certainly seen a lot of action. Though Rosalie felt a certain amount of pity for the man because of his age, it didn't change her feelings toward him in any way. Age caught up to everyone. One day it would catch up to her, and she intended having a nice nest egg set aside when the time came. She had to give the old man credit though. Age might be taking its toll on him, but he wasn't giving up. He intended dying with some kind of semi-erection. This only served to frighten her all the more.
She looked around, wondering just how did she go about finding a graceful way out, and she realized there was no graceful way out. This was something which had to be endured for the sake of her future.
Harry Norton held his still-solid cock in his hand, looking down at it, amazed it had actually hardened, and more amazed that it was still hard. He was looking at her with all the lust and passion left in his creaking body. This woman was going to satisfy him all right. She was going to really make him come. It had been years since he'd had anything this hard, and he wanted to make the most of it. He knew if he tried fucking her, it might shrink before he actually buried it inside her.
There was only one way to insure its continued hardness. The woman was under his control, and nothing would be able to stop him now. This was another fringe benefit of being in power. He intended taking full advantage of it, since this would probably be the last time he'd ever be able to have such control again-either over Rosalie, or his cock.
"I would very much like to fuck you," he began, and Rosalie began shuddering. The mere idea of being stuffed with an organ like that made her quiver. "However, I'm not quite up to it." She relaxed a little. "The fact remains, I intend coming inside you." If he didn't fuck her how was that possible? "I don't know how much time I have left allotted to me on this earth, so I think you'll agree it's only natural for me to want to take full advantage of every moment." She wished she was able to take advantage of the moment and slip out of here. She didn't appreciate standing there with her breasts hanging out and her dress wrinkling as the top half hung down. "To me, my penis is very special.'-'
To me, it's an instrument of torture, she thought.
She remained silent, knowing it was better to say nothing until he gave her an opening. She only hoped he wouldn't have her start jerking him off, again. Her arm still felt the strain. Hell! She was tired from all that tugging. She wanted to sit down somewhere, but knew she didn't dare. Her knees felt very weak and gelatinous.
"Once this was the biggest cock around," he continued, "and I've had more than one girl tell me it was the biggest one she ever handled."
Rosalie looked at the door, wishing someone would knock and disturb them. Harry Norton was becoming another tiresome old man who liked to reminisce, wanting to be heard.
"Tell me, d'you think I still have a nice, big penis?" he asked.
Rosalie was tempted to shrug and stopped herself. Instead, she said, "Well, yes, but I'm not a good judge of penises. I mean it is bigger than that of my former husband."
"Ah, good," he nodded, pleased with her answer. "Once, I'd have tumbled you on your back and I'd have fed this organ into your cunt until it spurted at least twice, and you would have come six or seven times yourself. Now, I'm not capable of it. I do feel you ought to pay a certain respect to this cock, anyway."
Rosalie remained standing there, wishing he'd get to the point. His beating around the bush was extremely annoying. He was the one in command damn it, and it was apparent he didn't give a damn about the fact that she was uncomfortable. His only concern was the ultimate satisfaction she'd be able to give the solid organ her hand was still gripping.
"Don't look so afraid," he said to her, mistaking her distaste for all this to be annoyance and fear. "Now come here. I want you to show me just how much you like my penis. I want you to convince me of your adoration for it. You see, once I'm definitely convinced, I'll sign the orders that will make you the new regional supervisor for the eastern home office. The company president will go along with anything I recommend."
Rosalie's heartbeat quickened. The job was about to be hers. Yes, much as she felt distaste for the old man she'd be able to put up with him a little longer to secure that position. She wanted to let him know just how fond she was of his organ, and she was willing to caress it with both hands, fondling and tickling it if need be.
"It's still quite a formidable weapon," she told him, glad he was unable to fuck her with it.
"Yes indeed," he nodded. "I want you to prove how much you adore it, Rosalie. I want you down on your knees in front of me. I want you to kiss, lick, and suck it. I want the full length of it in your mouth-every last inch of it. I want you to swallow the meaty head down your throat."
Rosalie stood there stunned. She was unable to believe what she had just heard. Was he insane? She had absolutely no intention of putting that white stick of flesh and muscle inside her mouth to let him dribble his oils down her throat-and much worse, shoot his semen down there as well. Not that it was covered with germs or anything like that. She knew sperm was totally germ-free. It had to be in order to exist. Yet to do this ... just how insensitive a man was he?
"Come, come," he ordered. "Be kind to my penis. You did say you liked it. Now prove it, so I can prove to you how much I like you by giving you the job you've worked so hard to get. Come, Rosalie. Suck on it. The mere deed will make you feel aroused and alive. Believe me, I know. Many women have sucked on my penis."
She froze, unable to move at that moment. There was no way on earth she'd do something as vile and disgusting as that. This man had to be totally out of his mind to even consider the possibility. The job! The damn job! Always the damn job! Heaven, why did this have to happen to her of all people. Other women succeeded strictly on merit. Why were they taking advantage of the fact that she was a female?
"Come on, Rosalie," he insisted. "I'm getting tired of waiting. Just get down on your knees and start sucking. It's no great problem. I'm certain you're capable."
His voice sounded louder and louder in Rosalie's ears. She had no desire to oblige this animalistic beast, but there simply was no way to escape from it and get the job she so badly coveted. She was trapped in this man's bedroom. He was still the lord and master. One day she would be in a position of power, and then...
His hand reached out and cupped the nape of her neck, and the pressure of his palm forced her down, down, down, until she was on her knees. Slowly, very slowly, he forced her head closer and closer to the organ between his thighs, and in anticipating what she was about to do, the old man felt his erection stiffen even more.
Rosalie stared, looking at the throbbing organ, the head swelling and receding, filled with blood and a much richer red, now. It was no longer the penis of an old man. It was the cock of a young buck. Let her escape from this horror.
Her head moved closer, closer, and her face was touched by the head of the man's penis. Ugh! It was so slimy, so hot. It had become so thick, so long, and it appeared to still be growing. There was no way she'd be able to fit even part of that monstrous organ into her mouth, much less all of it.
"Use your tongue," the shuddering old man gasped. "Roll it all around the head of my cock."
She shivered with the mere thought of having to do such a terrible and formidable task. What made it even worse was the fact that she knew she was going to do it. She wanted that job, and if performing this loathsome task was what it took to get it, then by heaven she would do it. How absolutely revolting!
"I'll make it easier for you," the old man told her. "After all, we don't want you straining your neck. I'll lie on the bed and you'll find it a lot easier. You'll see."
He pulled her along with him as he walked over to the bed, and then he lay down, one hand gripping her hair to make certain she didn't suddenly change her mind and try to run away. Once he was horizontal, his big organ standing straight up in the air, he gasped, "Come, Rosalie. Suck it, and remember the wonderful pot of gold waiting for you at the end of my rainbow. "
Slowly Rosalie lowered her head, smelling the musky fragrance of his seminal oil. Not that it was really unpleasant, but her mind seized any excuse to make it seem worse than it was. She breathed deeply, and the scent caused flurries inside her, even as her conscience insisted it was a horrible odor. She physically gasped as the first wave of aroma drifted through her quivering nostrils. How did this man conceive of the idea that she should use her mouth on his cock anyway? This close, the flesh looked whiter and more unpigmented than ever.
"Now, lick it!" his voice sternly ordered, and Rosalie knew this was the moment. Either she did it, or she lost everything.
Her tongue haltingly reached out and flatly stretched itself over the swollen dome of his cock. It seemed to eel its way from her mouth, hanging suspended in mid-air for the moment. Now it was touching the organ with the oily head, and the moment the tip of her tongue touched it, she noticed the way it jumped away, as if daring her oral digit to give chase. Her tongue leaped forward again, and once more the pressure of it made the penis jump aside.
"Ohhhhhhhh ... uuuuuuunnn-nnnnnhhhhhhhh!! ! " the old man gasped. "Grab the base of my cock in your hand," he ordered, "and hold it steady. Just make sure not to squeeze too hard."
Rosalie felt an overpowering urge to squeeze the damn thing so hard, it would fall off, making him faint. Fat lot of good it would do her in the long run. Once he awakened he'd see to it she was permanently out of a job. No, damn it! She was stuck with this whether she liked it or not, if only to reach the lofty pinnacle at which she was aiming.
"Grab it!" Harry Norton gasped.
She placed her delicate fingers tightly around it in a very orderly fashion, acting like some kind of cybernaut taking orders from its master because it had no will of its own.
Her own will was screaming at her, trying to order her to disobey. Something deep inside told her she didn't dare.
"Time is precious to an old man like myself," he murmured. "Don't waste any more of it, Rosalie. Start sucking and licking, and do it now."
She hurriedly began rolling her pink tongue around the swollen head of his shuddering penis. She steeled herself to it, and though she wanted to cleanse her mouth' with a blowtorch, she continued. Her hand gripped the thick root to keep it from escaping from her licking mouth.
"Jerk my cock up and down while you're licking," he ordered.
Rosalie did as she was instructed, her fingers sliding up and down the fleshy shaft in the same fashion she had tugged on. Her tongue continued slurping around the head at the same time, licking swiftly, and jerking even more swiftly.
"Yes, yes, yes!" he gasped. "Keep doing that, Rosalie. Just keep doing it that way."
She continued licking with her tongue and stroking with her fingers. The old man's hips began jumping up and down, up and down as her tongue traveled over the red cap of his hot prick. The old man was enjoying himself as he hadn't been able to do for what seemed like an eternity of time. There was a smile on his face of total rapture. He had sincerely believed he'd never really be able to feel ' things this intensely again. This was some woman. He wished he'd known about her when she had first come to the company. Hell! By now she would have been president, and ready to take his place. Shit-all-mighty! She had a tongue on her, this one.
Rosalie hated herself, yet her tongue avidly took to licking the weighty organ. The taste wasn't nearly as frightful as she had expected now that her tongue was able to taste the flavor of his meaty glans. She licked steadily, regulating the movement of her tongue repeatedly, lapping, lapping, lapping, as her hand continued jerking.
"Good, good, good," the old man continued gasping. "Now, start sucking the head with your lips. Put the penis in your mouth and start bobbing your head up and down. Do it, Rosalie! Do it, now! Ohhhhhh!"
Rosalie was a little confused, not knowing whether to suck, to go on licking and pulling, or what. The man wanted her to do all things at once, and that simply wasn't possible.
"Come on-come on-come on," he urged. "Get to sucking. You can do it, honey. You have a mouth that was made for sucking. Use those lips, sweetheart. That's what they were made for. "
Rosalie lowered her head over the man's seething phallus, surrounding the red tip with her lips, closing them in a ring tightly around the pulsating organ. At the same time her hand continued pulling on the phallic base. Slowly, very slowly, the anxious penis slid into her mouth, stretching her lips, bloating her cheeks, sinking deeper and deeper. Rosalie wanted to hate it, but her body was becoming more and more aroused, and she loved it. Inwardly, she despised herself for enjoying this terrible thing she was doing. The penis continued moving into her oral cave as if feeling its way along. The heat was burning her tongue and Rosalie marshaled more saliva in the hope of cooling off the penile lance.
Harry Norton gyrated his hips wildly on the bed, feeling young again for the first time in a decade, plunging his penis deeper, enjoying the way it filled the woman's mouth. With each thrust of his hips his penis sank a little deeper into her mouth, reaching for her throat.
"Yesssssssss..." he hissed. "That's the wayyyyyy ... yesssssss ... you're doing it perfectly. Oh you really know how to please an old man, Rosalie. I promise to see to it you're pleased."
She continued stroking the base of his throbbing cock, filling her mouth with more and more of the penile pole. Her tongue continued twitching against the underside of the shuddering rod as she realized she was doing what he asked not because he was urging her to do so, but because she felt some inner urge to continue.
"What a mouth!" he gasped. "What a fantastic mouth! You're the best mouth I've ever had," he gasped. "I wish I'd known about you, before. Oh fuck!"
Her head was bobbing now, up and down, up and down, doing it quite naturally without urging from the old man, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Her mind continued to rebel, telling her this was a wrong and unnatural thing she was doing, but her mouth kept on sucking all the same.
"That sweet mouth of yours is unbelievable," the old man gasped. "You make me feel young again. It's the sweet softness of your lips now holding me a prisoner."
Him a prisoner! she thought. She was the one being held prisoner by this horrid old man. He was free to stop this any time he wished. She was the one who was trapped. She was the one who was being forced to use her mouth against her will to perform this horribly obscene act. She was the one trapped.
He was moaning and groaning all the louder as his body continued its moving, getting hotter and hotter with every delightfully agonizing movement of her bobbing head. He had all the pleasure and she all the agony.
"Rosalie, if I were younger, I'd fall in love with you," the old man gasped. "That wonderful mouth of yours would be mine, forever. No one else would be permitted to know its sweet touch. Tell me, did you ever do this with your husband?"
She shook her head from side to side with the penis still between her lips, driving him even wilder, making him ache to climb the walls. Every little movement of her mouth as it slid down, then up, down, then up, brought the man closer to the ecstasy he had so long forgotten.
"My testicles," he gasped. "Fondle my testicles as well. Treat them with all the loving care they deserve. I want to feel you being nice to all of me, Rosalie. I want to feel it deep down. I want to feel that you care about an old man."
I care about what the old man is offering me, she thought, otherwise I'd die before doing something so totally debasing.
Her head continued bobbing up and down, and the hand she had around the base of his phallus now slid down to his balls, caressing them, cupping them, hefting them rubbing them and making him squeal as he wriggled all over the bed. Her fingers continued rubbing the sac as her mouth bobbed up and down on the throbbing penis. She sensed it swelling in her mouth as she continued sucking, and the heat was becoming unbearable.
Her head continued bobbing, and she knew there was no way for her to answer his stupidly incessant questions at the moment. For her to do so would mean she'd have to take her mouth from his cock, and that would be impossible. Having come this far, having permitted herself to be this humiliated, she wasn't going to do anything that might risk her losing that job. She'd had to whore for it, and she was going to get it. She was certain that at this point he would much rather have her suck and lick his cock than talk to him.
"Ohhhhhh ... yesssssss..." he continued gasping. "I can tell from the way you're sucking and licking that you're getting a certain amount of enjoyment from this, too, aren't you, Rosalie?"
The more she did this, the more she found herself addicted to it, and the more addicted to it she became, the more she hated him for having made her realize what cocksucking was all about. She hated herself even more, for not having the courage to throw everything aside in order to keep her pride. Pride! One didn't pay the rent with pride. Pride was what was supposed to go before a fall. Much as she wanted to retain her pride, she had enough common sense to realize her security was more important than her pride, and anyone who denigrated her for doing other than what she was doing deserved a swift kick in the mouth. If there was any chastising of herself to be done, she'd be the one to do it. She didn't need outside help.
This was the man who was making her do this horrible thing, though, and deep down inside she would never forgive him for it. He didn't deserve the pleasure he was feeling. He deserved to have his organ bitten off directly under the corona. If she'd had an ounce of guts that was precisely what she would have done. The nerve of him telling her she liked it. How the hell would he know just what was going on inside her mind? The son of a bitch! He had to be out of his cotton-picking mind.
"Come on..." he urged. "Tell me the truth, Rosalie. You love this, don't you, you really love it. Doesn't it feel good to have the penis in your mouth?"
He was moving his hips up and down now, punching his cock in and out of her mouth with a certain amount of regularity. Rosalie felt the swollen organ pressing deeper and deeper against the entrance to her gullet, and she was certain the cock would never fit in there. It was so thick, so immense, it was hard enough for her to stretch her mouth around it.
His hand was pressing down on her head, now, pushing-pushing, shoving the rounded knob of his thrusting cock into the tightly squeezing depths of her narrow esophagus. It became even hotter as it probed into her throat, making her choke and cough, and she felt like retching all over the man. Once again, thoughts of her job kept her from doing so. The hold this man had on her for the time being was stronger than anything any extortionist might try holding over her head. His hips were moving faster now, thrusting the penile head even deeper into her clutching gullet, making her gag even more. She had to breathe through her nostrils. It was difficult at best. There was a stickiness leaking into her throat, and she realized she was swallowing the man's lubricant. She was gulping it down, drinking it, wanting more of it, even though it was completely tasteless, save for a bit of saltiness. She quivered, disgusted with herself that she wanted to do this.
"Come up onto the bed," he ordered, lying back, and Rosalie did as he ordered, feeling him pull her rear around so that it was facing him. His hand swiftly delved under her dress and under the leg band of her panties, reaching for the wet hole between her thighs. She was astonished to find she was soaking wet in there. He slid a finger right into her, and she jumped, jamming her mouth a little lower on the throbbing organ between her lips. She found herself sucking fervently, unable to believe just what it was she was doing. Oil was oozing from her vaginal opening as swiftly as it was leaking from the head of his penis and dribbling down her sucking throat.
"Good! Good! Good! Keep sucking!" he ordered. "Suck harder, harder, pull at my cock you sweet bitch!"
His voice sounded louder and louder in her ears. Rosalie realized she was uncomfortable with his fingers wedged under her crotch band, and she wished she'd been able to remove her panties. However, though she was sucking instinctively, she sincerely believed that every move on her part was being guided by the man whose penis was in her mouth. She realized that it was barely possible she might learn to like something like this if she was with a man to whom she was married, but this way ... never. Even so, her head never missed a beat, bobbing, consistently up and down, pushing the pulsating penis deeper and deeper into her sucking throat.
"Don't let me shrink," the old man was begging. "Keep sucking like that. Keep it up ... keep it up..."
She continued sucking, her own body writhing as his middle finger squirmed around and around in her tight pussy, making her writhe and wriggle uncontrollably. His thumb slid inside and began massaging her clitoris, and she really went wild. She felt the way her oil was oozing out of her, wetting her panties, running down her two thighs.
Rosalie's body was tingling and there was no way for her to stop it. Even though she consistently told herself this was wrong, and this was a horrible old man, she began moving her body instinctively. She told herself again and again that she wasn't doing this because she wished to, but simply because she had to. This was a dog-eat-dog world, and sometimes, in order to prevent a dog from eating her, she had to do something like this. Even so, all the excuses in the world didn't keep her from feeling ashamed of herself for what she was doing.
She tried stopping the motion of her hips, but that was ridiculous. The finger thrusting back and forth inside her, and the thumb playing games on her clitoris, had her completely under their control whether she liked it or not. All the while her head continued bobbing up and down, up and down, and on each downstroke, the heavy point of his masculine wand plunged into the roiling depths of her tight gullet, sinking further and further in.
"Rosalie, Rosalie..." the old man gasped. "You're wonderful."
She wasn't wonderful. She was a tramp who was doing all this now to insure her future and make certain she had all the good things in life. Her head kept moving up and down, and her buttocks wobbled from side to side as his fingers continued playing with her lower regions. Her juices were flowing so freely now, had she looked, Rosalie would have seen them running halfway up the old man's arm.
Her mouth was soaking wet. The oils seeping from his cock, mingling with her saliva were dribbling out and pouring down his pelvis, making his white pubic hairs wet. Her lips continued pulling, her tongue continued licking, and her head kept on bobbing. She sucked strongly, slurping, drinking, draining, enjoying without wanting to do so.
"Before you leave..." he gasped, "I ... uhhhhh ... want you to see me write my recommendation for your promotion."
This was enough to make her bob her head all the more excitedly as her lips sucked even more strongly. His penis was swelling, thickening, and she knew he was going to erupt in her mouth. Good! Would she be able to take the fluid? Heaven help her if she backed out now, at the last moment. She had to do it; she had to swallow the old man's horrible sperm.
"AAAAAAIIIIIIY-YYYYYAAAAAGGGGGGHHHHHH ... EEEEEEYYYYYAAAAAAIIIIIII..." he gasped, and fired one liquid stream after another straight down her throat, and Rosalie, closing her eyes tightly, swallowed without thinking. She drank, feeling more and more of it flood from between her lips, seeping down her cheeks.
"Don't take your head away," he gasped. "Swallow it all ... every last drop of it."
At this point Rosalie didn't need to be told. For some unexplainable reason, she was enjoying the taste of the white fluid, and she drank strongly, pulling every last ounce down her throat into her stomach.
The penis immediately began wilting, but she continued swallowing as his fingers moved listlessly in her vagina. She rubbed her body back and forth, feeling his thumb massage her clitoris a bit more, and then she was reaching a peak of sorts, but it was a minor peak. Her lips remained tightly clamped around the throbbing, shrinking penis, and she sucked out the last remaining drops of his sperm. Afterward, her tongue washed his penis and his testicles, cleaning up anything that was left.
When it was over, Rosalie hated herself more than ever. She was becoming more and more of a tramp just to secure this job she had sought for such a long time. Would she be able to live with herself afterward, knowing just what it was she had done to secure this position?
"Help me up," Harry Norton insisted.
She did so, and he staggered over to the writing desk where he sat down, took a sheet of paper, and wrote his recommendation that Rosalie be promoted to regional supervisor for the eastern home office. He sealed it in an envelope, then put on a robe while Rosalie went into the bathroom to dress herself. By the time she had come out, he had already given the envelope to a bellboy to deliver to the president of Residential.
"I want you to know you made an old man very happy, tonight," he said, letting her out.
CHAPTER FOUR
The seminars were held in a series of conference rooms on the second floor of the hotel the following morning. After breakfast, all the salesmen attended, and there were a bunch of top salesmen who did a lot of lecturing, as well as some home office experts who had brought down new sales aids.
Rosalie helped instruct the seminar in group sales, and then she was free for the rest of the day. She decided to do a little shopping since things were considerably less expensive here in the bahamas than back home, except for food. The prices in the Freeport supermarket were outrageous.
Had she been a drinking woman, she would have been allowed to bring back two duty-free bottles of any liquor she wanted, but liquor had never appealed to her that much.
She found a little arcade across the street from the hotel and bought herself some sandals, two new dresses, and a sun hat. She decided she didn't want to eat lunch at the hotel, and so found a little restaurant where the food was surprisingly good and the drinks weren't too flat. She noticed that the water in Freeport had a terribly flat taste to it-at least at the hotel.
She was on her way back to the hotel when she ran into Stanley Bright.
"Well, well," Bright said, smiling at her, "I hear you pulled off some sort of coup. You just aced me out of that supervisory job. Well, what the hell, I don't have a cunt."
"Stanley, you're terrible," she snapped. "Rest assured, I did not use my lower regions in any way to convince Mr. Norton."
"Oh, then you do admit you convinced Norton."
"I was with him in the gambling casino, last night," she said. "I had the opportunity, so I spoke to him. Wouldn't you?"
"I guess," he nodded. "I still think there's some hanky panky somewhere. The old man didn't come down until well after two-o'clock in the afternoon. He must have had some rough night."
"He's an old man," Rosalie replied. "And that you think I had something physical to do with him is shameful."
"You're the Iron Mistress," Bright nodded. "I forgot. I still don't see how you conned him, though."
"Compare our records as district representative, Stanley, and then you tell me how I conned him."
"Ohhhh, aren't we getting bitchy."
"Stan, I have two words for you. They are not Happy Birthday. One is an adjective, and the other is a verb."
"Cute, cute, really cute," Stanley Bright snorted. "One of these days, Rosalie, I'm going to get you alone, in a helpless position, and I promise to take full advantage of it."
"Oh I can believe that, Stan. I'll just have to see to it that you never catch me in a compromising position."
Rosalie went into the hotel and took her packages up to her room. Well, all the bull was over now, except for the big finale, which would come the following night. A huge party would be held, awards would be handed out, and that was when all the announcements would officially be made.
The door connecting her room with that of Rand Stroud opened, and the present supervisor-soon-to-be-president walked into her room, saying, "Well, well. You did something right, last night. You made quite an impression on our outgoing chairman. If he was a little younger and you were a bit more liberal, I would believe you'd seduced him. I know better than that."
"Thanks for your vote of confidence," she smirked.
"You in the mood to fool around?"
"I'm never in the mood," she told him.
"So you say," he laughed. "The truth of the matter is, inwardly, you're always in the mood. Rosalie, whether you like it or not, you have an overheated cunt, I do believe. What's more, I have the fire hose to put out the heat."
"What an absolutely filthy, disgusting, chauvinistic thing to say," she snapped at him, wishing she was able to look at him through the sights of a gun. He was always so smug, so sure of himself. She wished she'd be able to castrate him, and then shove those damn testicles of his down his rotten throat.
"The truth really hurts," he laughed. "Whether you care to admit it or not, you have an overheated pussy, honey."
"Must you be consistently insulting as well as disgusting?" she cursed at him.
"What you need in that overheated pussy is frequent injections of cock-my cock to be precise. You're going to have to learn to come down off that high horse of yours, honey. One of these days, when I yell fuck, you'll be here, panting and drooling and ready to go, and what's more, we both know it."
"Get out of here, Rand, she snapped.
"Not just yet," he replied, and threw her down on the bed. His hand reached under her dress, and he was literally ripping her panties off, rubbing her silken-fringed mound. It was wet.
Every time there was a little sunshine in Rosalie's life, something had to come along and spoil it. There were times, like now, that she wished she were able to dig a hole in the floor and just jump in. She wished her body would simply disappear into some deep, dark, mysterious sea and never be found again.
Perhaps the most shocking discovery was the fact that her body was starting to betray her, repeatedly. She hated the crude way Rand Stroud handled her, but the son of a bitch somehow managed to excite her physical senses, and this was irritating. Even the vile handling of her tender vagina seemed to arouse her. What was going on inside her? Things like this had never happened to her before. Her husband had always been a bore, a dull insensitive clod who had always fumbled his way through sexual intercourse. Just what was it about this man that excited her, so?
Shame filled her and she struggled, but his fingers gripped her labia hard, and he muttered, "I've literally got you by the short and curlies honey, not to mention your tender cunt lips. You just lie there and relax. In fact, to make things a little harder for you, suppose you roll over on that lovely belly of yours-once we have you stripped."
Just how he managed to ease the clothing from her supine body was something Rosalie never quite figured out. He seemed to be some kind of magician, his hands moving here, then, there, and once again she was totally naked-and so was he. Then she was belly down on the bed, her thighs wide apart, and he was sprawling his weight on top of her.
"You hypocritical prude," he snapped. "You damned hypocritical prude." His hands moved feverishly over her lush body, touching her back, rubbing the white smoothness of it. "You're built like a ceramic defecatorium with tile floors."
He forced her thighs wider apart, looking at the contrast of tan on the front part of her flesh and whiteness where the sun had not yet been able to reach. His hands moved, not gently, but not roughly, over the backs of her knees, tickling them a little before once again delving between the white tenderness of her inner thighs. Her pouting vaginal cleft seemed to move in and out with her breathing, waiting, anticipating, almost anxiously desiring the feel of his fingers. Her moist furrow was leaking a little of the colorless oil, wetting both pairs of vaginal lips, making them shine.
"You have the tightest pussy I've ever touched," he told her, deliberately choosing his words to inflame her, knowing her indignance was something he'd be able to channel into desire.
"Those cunt lips of yours really know how to grab. You have what we call a snapping pussy. It closes tightly around something and doesn't let go. Hell, I've known some virgins who were loose compared to you."
He pushed two fingers into her, gripping her cunt lips and pulling a little, and Rosalie was afraid he might tear her skin and cause some kind of damage to her body.
"D-Don't hurt me," she begged. "Please don't hurt me. "
"What happened to the bitch who was going to struggle and fight me every inch of the way?" he asked. "Where is she?"
"Rand ... please. . . " she gasped, fighting to hold back tears. "This is unworthy of you. You may be many things but until now I never thought of you as crude. "
Stroud laughed, then pulled his fingers from her creaming depths and grabbed her silky pelvic hair, saying, "Well, well, so now I'm crude, eh. If you say so, Rosalie. I guess I'll just have to act the game since you've given me the name." He pulled her hairs, twisting them a little, and Rosalie winced, feeling the natural pain that resulted from there. "Though I have no intention of marring your delicate flesh, or bruising your body in any way, a little pain might be just the thing to bring you into line, Rosalie."
"You said you weren't a sadist," she gasped.
"Honey, you're making things a bit difficult for me, so why shouldn't I make them difficult for you. I intend screwing you one helluva lot, even after you've officially been made supervisor. After all, you do want the presidency in a few years when I'm moved up to the chairmanship, and I will be, Rosalie, you can bet on it. I'm less interested in causing you pain than in causing degradation, if only to change that frigid personality of yours. I want you totally committed to fucking-especially for me. I'm reasonable though. When I'm not around, if you feel like being with some other guy, be my guest, as long as he doesn't have some kind of social disease. You know, the more I think about it, the more I believe a little humility is good for the soul, particularly your soul." He twisted her lower hairs a bit more, and Rosalie gasped, kicking backward, trying to get away from him. Stroud merely pressed his weight against her buttocks, pinning her down. He had no trouble keeping her locked to the mattress. "Now slow clown," he told her, "or you might accidentally hurt yourself."
"All right, all right," she whimpered, babbling with near hysteria.
"Promise to take orders?"
"Anything ... anything ... just stop hurting me."
"That's better," he said, taking his weight off her. "I know you never go back on a promise."
Standing, he went to the connecting door and entered his own room for a moment. When he came back, it was with a small glass filled with liqueur. Rosalie took it and sipped. Oh yes! She really needed that.
"What happened between you and the old man last night?" Stroud asked, dropping his nakedness onto the bed next to her.
Rosalie noted his penis was at half mast. Obviously he didn't really get pleasure from hurting her. She was glad of that. Nevertheless, she felt a certain loathing for the man. He was, after all, a married man. Why didn't he take his lusts out on his wife rather than screw any woman he was able to get his hands on. This was obscene. Still, there was a certain fascination about him, and she did feel a warm pleasure in looking at his naked body she had never felt with her husband. She put the glass down.
"Since I didn't tell him what went on between you and me, I don't think it proper to discuss what happened in his suite."
"Are you telling me the old boy can still get it up?
"I'm not telling you a damn thing," she insisted.
"Snippy bitch!" he snapped, reaching out and swatting her buttocks, watching as they whitened, then reddened.
"Ouch!" she snapped. "That hurt."
"A little honest pain is good for the soul."
"Fine," she agreed, and kicked him in the side.
"That does it!" he insisted, and leaping on her, held her body down with one hand while he proceeded to whack the daylights out of her behind, swatting hard.
"Ouch! Ouch! Ouch!" Rosalie yelped with each smack of his hand. "That hurts!"
"You going to behave?" he asked, his hand poised to wallop her buttocks again.
"I-I'll try," she promised, feeling tears in her eyes, hating herself for allowing herself to be so degraded, yet feeling more and more fascinated by Rand Stroud as heat burned through the fanny he had so injudiciously walloped.
"Let's just see," Stroud said, and took hold of her legs and tugged them wide apart, spreading them so he was able to get a close look at her dripping vagina. It was filled with oils, as if the spanking had indeed aroused her.
"You have such a lovely vagina," he told her. "If time allowed I'd sit and stare at it all day."
"I'm more than a vagina," she gasped. "I'm a woman, a whole woman. I wish you men would think of me as something more than a hole into which to poke your penises. I'm more than a sperm depository."
Rosalie was angry, not so much at Stroud, but at her former husband. She thought back to a conversation they had once had when she had been a housewife and he had been the wage earner.
Remember, my love, you are a cunt. You eat, you sleep, you talk, you even walk, but all that doesn't count. You are first and foremost a cunt, a pussy, a place for me to bury my cock and unload my sperm. The one important part of your body to me is your cunt. The rest of you is merely a shell that surrounds your cunt-a means of support and transportation to take your cunt from room to room so I can fuck it wherever I choose.
That turned out to be the laugh of the century. Her husband had turned out to be a semi-impotent clod right from the start, and frustrated, as if his inability to perform was her fault. He had almost de-personalized her, removing her ego, destroying her individualism, actually convincing her she was nothing but a carrier for her vagina-a vagina he never did know how to properly use.
Rosalie had been determined not to sink any deeper into the mire of dehumanization. One day she had picked herself up, she had gone out, and she had gotten herself a job as a saleslady for the Residential Insurance Company. They had paid her a salary for the first eight weeks, after which she was half on salary and half on commissions until they stopped paying her a salary altogether. By that time, her commission backlog was so high, she was drawing eight-hundred a week, and the money going into her account was greater than that which she withdrew. Soon she was drawing fifteen-hundred a week, and she realized she had no need for a useless husband who was a millstone around her neck. So she divorced him, and became a division manager at Residential, training new salespeople, collecting overrides on their commissions, still making sales on her own, and because of her renewals she was soon pulling in two-thousand a week. Without asking, she was made a full office manager, with a salary of thirty-five-thousand a year, plus her renewals, plus the overrides she was making, in addition to still going out and occasionally making a sale by herself. She was pulling in more than sixty-thousand a year. When she was promoted to district representative, she was given an expense account, though her salary remained stable. Now she was about to become regional supervisor, which, with the pension plan she was expecting to receive, would boost her to seventy-five-thousand a year. The presidency carried a salary of well over a hundred-and-fifty-thousand a year with an unlimited expense account, and the chairmanship had a base salary of a quarter of a million, plus an unlimited expense account.
"You like my looking at your body, don't you?" Stroud asked, breaking into her reverie, his fingers working delicately between her hair-adorned labia, opening them a little wider to expose the pink slabs of shell-colored flesh.
"I like the idea of your looking at all of me," she shudderingly admitted, which was the biggest admission she had ever made. "But I don't like your staring at the one part of my anatomy which isn't even flesh. You're simply looking at a void, and I detest that."
"You're quite a woman, Rosalie," he said to her. "I might easily learn to love you, but to do that, I'd have to be loved back, and I don't think you're ready to do that."
"Not with a man who is married to someone else."
"So then we'll keep this strictly on a physical basis. As you know, I've had physical relations with a lot of women, some even more mature than yourself, many considerably younger. I never let facial features bother me, though yours happen to be well above average. However, I have to admit, when it comes to the void, as you call it, between your legs, you happen to have the best one I've ever encountered, bar none. You are really something else. I'm glad I've already tried you on for size. Now I know old peter will fit inside you." He rubbed his heavy penis against the back of her thigh, making her quiver a little. "You have me so hot, I'll tell you right now, if my cock didn't fit in that tight cunt of yours, I'd force it in, or I'd drill a new hole into you. You are really something else."
Rosalie felt as if every word and deed this man was saying and doing was designed to cheapen and humiliate her. He was deliberately and calculatingly trying to degrade and shame her, at least as far as she was concerned. Though she tried to close her ears to what he was saying, ignoring the words coming out of him, she was unable to stop her body from burning with an inner excitement. She knew it was a perverse arousal and did her best not to feel it, but in her mind's eye, she saw the stalk he was rubbing against her thigh. She knew what it looked like; all tan, with a rich purple head that seemed to almost shine. She wondered if the devil had a cock like that. Cock? Yes, cock. It was a perfect word to describe the appendage of a man who strutted about like a barnyard rooster. Her body was inwardly shivering and shaking, and she realized there was an urgent need in her. She had to close her mind to such feelings. Soon they would take her over and totally dominate her.
Stroud was on his knees, now, between her thighs, inching his way up between them.
"I'll give this order only once," he told her. "If it isn't obeyed, I'm afraid I'll have to start spanking you again. Pull your hindquarters higher. Push your knees under you and prop that lovely ass up nice and high."
Rosalie knew that not doing so would merely invite more pain. Eventually she would have to comply, and so on, against her will to do so, she raised her ass and propped her knees beneath her. His penis was already there, butting against the cheeks of her behind, and she felt the sticky wetness rub all over her nether cheeks.
"It's as stiff as it's ever going to be," he told her. "You can feel the heat coming from it. Well, in a few minutes I'm going to be fitting it into that lovely groove of yours."
Rosalie let her head fall to the pillow beneath her, and she glanced back between her thighs and dangling breasts to see his hanging testicles. The burning length of his phallus slid back and forth in the groove between her ass-cheeks, feeling it indent her flesh, and she shivered, hating the typical male arrogance this man was displaying. His liquid was soiling her skin.
As if sensing she resented his lubrication running all over her body, Stroud began rubbing the head of his penis all over her nether cheeks, wetting almost every square inch of whiteness, making her quake with what she believed was disgust. Looking around the side of her body, he saw the way her breasts were dangling, and he said, "I'm going to have to french-lay you one of these days."
Not that she really cared, but for lack of something better to say, Rosalie asked, "What are you talking about?"
"You'll lie on your back and push your lovely breasts together so I can fuck my cock between them."
"And what happens when you decide to come."
"I can either come on your breasts, in your lovely mouth, which, by the way, I look forward to doing on our next get-together, or just spurt into your face."
"You really can be loathsome, Rand."
"You, on the other hand, are always lovely," he laughed. "It would really be a sight to see, your face all covered with semen. Yes, I'll have to try that, someday."
Rosalie closed her eyes to shut his words from her conscious mind. Somehow it all seemed so horribly disgusting. Her body, on the other hand, was warming up to what he was saying, and as a result she felt spurious blasts of heat flare through her. She was inwardly afire with lust, and in spite of all she was doing to fight it, her thighs began writhing, rubbing together, and her inner syrup began washing all over her inner thigh flesh.
"You are getting hot," Stroud laughed. "I can smell it. And when you get hot, honey, you get hot. That aroma is delicious." He moved his penis slowly up and down the length of her anal slit, feeling the way she trembled, and he said, "You're too proud to admit it, Rosalie, but you want my cock inside you. You want it in your cunt ... and right now, don't you? Well, you know what? You can just wait a little because I'm in no particular hurry, this time. I'm going to let you know how it feels to want sexual satisfaction and not have it because the other person is a stubborn jackass, or in your case, a stubborn jenny. You keep going through life thinking men are animals because they want to sexually assault you. Sure they want to assault you. You're an extremely attractive woman. If you were an old hag or an ugly, skinny bitch, no one would want anything to do with you. You'd be able to walk down the street stark naked and all you'd get is arrested. One of these days the juices in your body are going to take over, and when you look at an attractive man you're going to feel all hot and bothered just by looking. I'm going to tease you and tantalize you until you beg me for my cock instead of always fighting me off."
"You have a good case," she said sarcastically.
"You're damn right I have a good case. Hell! I used to plead with you often enough."
"I'll never beg," she snapped again, but her voice was quavering, and Rosalie despised herself because what he was telling her was coming to pass a lot sooner than even he would have expected. His continual rubbing of his penis up and down between her rectal orbs, while his hand danced over her body and inflaming her beyond control. Still, she kept her mouth shut. She refused to demean herself. His fingers trickled their way over her back again and again, sliding around to the front, massaging her breasts, teasing her nipples, pulling on them. His fingers were butterflies of lustful delight, and each little touch sent Rosalie deeper into the well of desire. She was all aflame and knew there was only one way to climb out of the well.
"Do it!" she snapped, almost ordering him. "I beg your pardon?" he asked. "Damn you, Rand, I said do it."
"Do what?"
"You damn well know what. Do it."
"No ... not yet. I don't think so."
"Please, Rand. "
"Please? Well now, that does sound a little better. Now just how am I supposed to please? What is it you want me to do? I mean, I thought you considered yourself too good for me, or for that matter, for any man."
"Stop it!" she gasped.
"Rosalie, you were always too much of a lady for common, vulgar sex. So I'd like to know, just what is it you want?"
"You know, you know," she told him, impatiently wriggling her hips and thrusting her buttocks backward without being consciously aware of what she was doing.
"Oh yes, I do know," Stroud told her. "However, there is a proper decorum that has to be observed."
Rosalie didn't want to ask. She didn't want to do any of this. It was all so wrong, so out-of-character with the individual she had become. She wasn't above uttering four-letter epithets, and she had done so when the occasion had called for it. She had even spoken such words with Rand Stroud before, but somehow it felt so wrong to let him squeeze them out of her at this particular moment. ' "I-I can't," she gasped.
"Force yourself, honey. Let those pretty red lips say all the wonderful dirty words as well as the nice ones."
"Have some decency, Rand. Don't continue demeaning me, this way. Don't make me say those words, now. Just do it and get it over with."
"Get it over with? Since when is sex something to be gotten over with? No way, Rosalie. Either you ask for it the way I want, or you just don't get it," and he rubbed his torrid phallus between her roundly jiggling buttocks. "Just remember, I can hold back a lot longer than you."
"Please, please, I can't stand this any longer," the poor woman moaned. She bit her lips and tossed her head a little. Chemical changes had started taking place inside her right from the First time Rand Stroud had fucked her. Having sucked on Harry Norton's penis the previous night had only intensified things. Rosalie was completely out of control of her body, now. She was angered with herself for not being able to tell her physical self how to feel, but there was no help for it. "Help me, Rand, " she gasped. "Please help me. "
"Not until you say what I want to hear, the way I want to hear it. Come on, Rosalie. Once again, you want something, and I want something. I want you to ask using the proper litany. Besides, hearing you speak that way gives me a thrill."
His penis was now rubbing in the groove between her vaginal lips, sliding back and forth but making no effort to penetrate her body. Rosalie let her head press into the pillow again, and she stared at his organ; a pulsating purple-headed beast, so close to her vagina, yet not where she really needed it. As she looked at it she knew she was going to surrender to Rand Stroud. This was his kind of war, and she didn't have a chance fighting against him, this way. Her vagina ached for that throbbing hunk of muscle, just as it had spurned that of her former husband. She wanted it, she really wanted it, and she knew she wasn't able to do without it. Another penis might not be as good. She had to have this particular organ. She gritted her teeth for a moment, took a deep breath, then finally gasped, "You rotten son of a bitch! You mother-fucking bastard! Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck my cunt with that fat cock of yours. Fuck me until there's nothing left in those balls of yours. You've always threatened to screw the ass off me. Well go ahead and prove you can do it, now, "
"Thatta girl," Stroud complimented, triumphantly. "Now you're speaking my language. That's the kind of thing that'll get you my cock any and every time. The woman in you is overcoming the dainty lady and snobbish prude. We'll make a first-class female out of you yet, Rosalie Martin."
"Hurry! Hurry!" Rosalie loudly gasped, rotating her buttocks, unable to wait for him to inject himself into her. She felt the head of his rigid masculine mace rubbing her cunt lips, moving from one thigh to the other. Once again she flung her buttocks at him, hoping to trap his organ between her vaginal lips and then suck it into her.
"That's my girl," Stroud complimented, rubbing the roundness of her buttocks. "Now you're the cock-hungry lady I always knew you to be." He laughed and rubbed the head of his penis between her lubricating labia, holding it back from actually penetrating her sodden trough. "You really want it, don't you," he laughed. "What would you do to get it?"
Rosalie shuddered, hating herself more and more. She had become the total slave of her body. What would she do? Damn it all, she didn't want to do this, but she would do anything ... anything at all. Tears rolled down her face as she wept for her lost resistance. How would she be able to face herself in the mirror? It was not so much the sexuality of all this, but the fact that he had so humbled her, he was making her ask for the one thing in her life she had always sworn she'd be able to do without. He was one cruel son of a bitch, and he was making her so dependent on him, she was now willing to do anything and everything to get what he had to offer.
"Anything. . . " she finally gasped out loud. "I'll do anything you want, but just slam that damn fucking cock of yours into my cunt. Please, Rand. "
"Good!" he grunted. "Just remember this promise in the future. I'm going to hold you to it."
"Ohhhhh! Why am I like this? What has me so out of control?"
Rand Stroud smiled to himself. The cantharides he had put in her drink had acted quickly and effectively. He would never tell her he had helped her emotions along a little with a touch of Spanish Fly. In the future, such chemical assistance would be unnecessary. The mere memory of what was happening now would be enough to arouse her glands and make her want to fuck like the proverbial bunny rabbit.
"I promise ... I promise ... I'll do anything, no matter how degrading, but please fuck me ... now!" Perspiration had broken out all over her lovely body. She was ready. She was really ready.
"Just remember, I'm the one doing you a favor by fucking you."
Gripping his phallus, he guided it between her labia again, but this time probed with the head between her lips, opening them, finding the right niche between them, and then slowly, very slowly, he introduced his pulsating cock into her shuddering body. In, in, in, he went, and it felt as if he was sinking into syrup mixed with butter that had not completely melted. Her gooey interior surrounded the full length of his probing staff, sucking him deeper, and before he had a chance to control himself, he was all the way in.
"Ahhhhhhh!" Rosalie sighed. "Oh yes, yes, yes, that's just what I want. "
He began sliding back and forth, but Rosalie didn't want him to move slowly. Her buttocks began chattering back and forth like a riveter's hammer as she slammed her buttocks against his body with repeated power. Stroud clenched her hips tightly, and proceeded to pound into her with vicious ferocity, feeling the heat in her transmit itself to him. She was hotter than hell, and she deserved every last inch of cock he was able to constantly feed her. In and out, in and out, he slammed her so hard, she began moving forward. Each thrust brought her knees off the bed for an instant, and each time they came down they landed a little ahead of the spot where they had been, before.
"That feels so good," she gasped. "Fuck me harder. Rand. Fuck me with all the strength in that fat, delicious cock of yours. Fuck and fuck and fuck!"
"Why ... uhhhhhh ... don't you ... ohhhhh ... shut up and fuck!" he told her, grinding into her with enough power to jar her teeth loose.
Rosalie no longer heard what he was saying. Her entire inner self was blazing with fire. She arched her back and rolled her tight vagina against the penetrating rod, thrilling to the way it filled and re-filled her tightly sucking cunt. There was no gentleness in the man this time, but this was one time Rosalie wasn't looking for gentleness. He was using his throbbing cock like the spear it resembled. It was a javelin of lust, not an instrument of love, and he hammered and battered at her body as if he had no thought for her pleasure; as if he was simply enslaving her, subduing her, ruling her. Rosalie discovered her body loved the man's roughness, even if her mind still had a glimmer of resistance in it. Her sensitive soul had been mortally offended by his treatment of her, but her throbbing body was literally glorying in the rough pounding it was receiving. This was the way a man ought to have fucked her right from the first night she had been penetrated. Had she been fucked this way, constantly, she would still be a loving wife, and happy to be a slave to the penis fucking her. He hammered and battered and pounded into her with beastly fury, and her physical self loved every last little bit of it.
"More! More! More!" she heard her voice gasping.
His answer was to reach forward and grasp her shoulders and then drive into her with the power of a diesel truck, beating at her until her body rose and fell with all the coordination of an unstrung marionette. He was fucking as he had never fucked a woman before giving her every last little bit of his energy. In and in and in he pounded, slamming into her as if the world was coming to an end and he had to reach his orgasm before everything blew apart.
Rosalie ground her buttocks back against his pelvis as if intent on shoving her cheeks through his thighs. Her elbows dug more firmly into the bed and her head pressed into the pillow as she stared back between her dangling breasts, watching the way the throbbing masculine organ pounded into her again and again. The sight was every bit as thrilling as the sensations she was feeling and her body was aroused to greater heights than ever before. When she felt his penis rub against one wall more strongly than the other, she began rotating her hips as she slammed back and forth, and the clinging liquescent cove that was her cunt spun around his moving pole.
"Where in the ... uuuuunnnnnnnhhhhhh ... name of ... uuuuunnnnhhhh ... did you learn to do ... ooohhhhhh ... that?" he gasped. His cock felt as if it was being crushed between the walls of a satin vise.
Rosalie hated this position, and not because it was humiliating or degrading. She hated it because she was unable to reach him with her own hands. She wanted to grab the cheeks of his buttocks and sink her nails into them, and pull the man all the more deeply into her body. To compensate, she began slamming back against him with such force, her rump was lifting him up with each of his forward strokes. All the while her vagina continued revolving around the stem of the penetrating penis.
Stroud was no longer in control of himself. For the first time since he was able to remember, he was going to come without making certain his female partner was satisfied first. He gasped, shuddering and pounding against her ass-cheeks as his hard cock reached into her and then he was beyond anything and anyone as the orgasm hit.
" A A A A A A W WW WW WWA A A A A A AGGG-GGGGHHHHHHHRRRRRRRA-AAAAAAGGGGGGGGHHH-HHHHNNNNNGGGGHHHH!"
Rosalie felt his throbbing organ swell even more inside her, and then it was spurting one blast of semen after another into her burning feminine cauldron. The spray reached epic proportions as he blasted into her again and again.
Her own orgasm was there, and thank heaven his cock was still solid, even as he pumped it into her. She screeched and shrieked, heaving wildly beneath him, her ass-cheeks slamming into his body without any control whatsoever. Her burning vagina felt like a scorching trap of pure fire, and then the spasms hit her.
' 'AAAAIIIIIIEEEEE ... YYYYYAAAAAIIIIIGGGGGGHHHHHH!! ! " she screamed, as she sobbed and pounded her head into the pillow beneath her.
The orgasm lasted for what seemed like forever, and when it ended, both dropped to the bed, asleep, with him still inside her.
CHAPTER FIVE
Stanley Bright considered himself to be better-looking than most men, and wondered why it was Rosalie Martin who shied away from him. The fact that he had tried getting the job of regional supervisor away from her wasn't something she ought to hold against him. This was the business all the time. Surely she understood that.
What the hell! Even though it wasn't official, she was getting the job he'd coveted. Not that she didn't deserve it. Bright was smart enough to understand that. Deserving didn't make him want it any the less though. What the hell! The president of the company, who was moving up to chairman, was only a few years away from retirement. Maybe, just maybe, when he did retire, and Stroud, who was moving into the presidency now moved into the chairmanship, Rosalie would become president. That being the case, he would become regional supervisor ... he hoped.
Still, it would be a damn shame to let a woman like Rosalie Martin get away without trying to score with her at least once.
It was the following day, and everyone had been relaxing around the pool during the early afternoon. Rosalie looked fantastic in a bathing suit. He was certain she'd look even more fantastic without one. He had to find out.
Stan Bright had a room across the hall from Rosalie's, and he went to said room now and took a long shower. It would do nothing to cool the heat raging through him; but it did temper his desire enough to keep it temporarily under control.
Putting on a bathrobe, and nothing else, he left his room door open, listening. A few people passed, no one curious enough to look in. Then, while standing in the doorway, his hands in the pocket of his robe, he saw Rosalie coming down the hall carrying her bathrobe over her arm, looking fantastic in her gold bathing suit.
"Well," he said, as she went to her door, "from the grapevine it looks like you have the supervisor's job sewn up."
"I deserve it," she told him.
"Actually, you do," he admitted, surprising her since she had always believed Stanley Bright to be something of an egotist. "Say, how about-coming in and having a drink with me. We can toast your new job."
"Can I trust you?"
"Of course not. I've always had the hots for you. But come on in, anyway."
He saw she had washed all the suntan oil from her body when she had gone for a swim. Good! Oil would make her too slippery to handle.
He turned and went into his room and Rosalie followed, and without thinking she shut the door behind her. Stroud had a bottle of Chevas Regal in his room, and he went and got the two bathroom tumblers, pouring an equal amount into each. He handed one to Rosalie, and they toasted to her new job, and drank.
"When you move up, I hope you'll consider me to take your place," he said, when they'd finished their drinks.
"Why not!" she shrugged. "From what I can see, next to me you're the best district representative around."
They both had another drink, and Bright said, "You really are stacked, you know."
"I think I'd better go," she said, putting the glass on a table and turning toward the door.
"Not just yet," he insisted. "This is the first chance I've had to really be alone with you."
Rosalie backed away from him as he reached a tanned hand out and gently caressed her throat. The pulse under his fingers jumped with panic, and she began to feel that sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach. She recalled what she had gone through with Rand Stroud the day before. She didn't want to go through all that again. The feelings of guilt that followed what had taken place had prevented her from getting a good night's sleep. Though Rand had claimed it was the fact that she had slept for almost four hours after their bout that prevented her from getting that good night's sleep.
No matter what Stanley Bright said, she had to get out of here. As it was Rand Stroud was intent on making more demands on her body, and she simply wasn't in the mood to have to fight off a man like Stan Bright.
She was brought back to the present as she realized Bright was standing against her, holding her tightly to him, his eyes boring deeply into her wide, brown orbs. His mouth was only inches from hers, and she was considering giving him a kiss just to get rid of him, when he whispered, "Come on. Rosalie. Just this once, let your hair down. Let's fuck!"
"What? No ... absolutely not...". her eyes widened with horror and embarrassment, and she struggled, finally pulling away only to be yanked back by his hand around her throat. His mouth was suddenly covering her sensuous lips, and she continued struggling, trying her best to push him away.
Bright was glorying in the feeling of her warm lips beneath his. At last, he had Rosalie Martin. His hand tightened even more on her throat, and his arm wrapped itself around her, brutally tugging him to her as his tongue pressed between her ripe lips into the hot cave of her mouth, tasting the Chevas she had only so recently swallowed.
Not again, Rosalie thought. It simply mustn't start again. Not another man after what she had been through the past three days. How had this come to happen. It was the last day of the convention. Had she not walked into Stan Bright's room everything would have been fine. His hand continued holding her throat, and his hotly urgent tongue continued exploring her mouth. The arm around her was like a vise. Hell! The man was physically stronger than she. What was she going to do?
A rush of warmly shivering anticipation shot through Stan from his groin straight up his spine to the back of his neck. Her mouth was like freshly mown grass on a summer's day. Her breasts were like twin noses pressing into his chest, curiously nuzzling his body. His hand slid from her bare throat down the front of her lovely body and cupped itself around a bikini covered breast. It felt like a great, sun-blossoming melon in need of a little biting and chewing. His other hand gripped one warmly round buttock as he insinuated a leg between her thighs, feeling her pelvis massage the head of his cock beneath his robe.
Rosalie was straining and mumbling brokenly and incoherently into Stan Bright's mouth. She had to escape, no matter what. Moisture was already wetting her thighs, and it wasn't from the drying bathing suit she was wearing. Her breast's enlarged under the pressure of Stan's moving hand.
"No, Stan, no..." her voice gutturally gasped. "Not if you want that job..." and she tore herself loose from him. He was blocking the way to the door, so she turned and headed for the bathroom. Just as she got inside, Bright leaped on her and the two of them went tumbling to the floor. He pinned her arms and hovered over her like a vampire about to suck her blood.
"We're going to fuck!" he gasped. "I don't care about jobs or careers or anything at this point. I want your cunt, and that's just what I'm going to have. Make up your mind to the fact that you aren't leaving my bedroom until I unload my sperm inside you." He leaned down and bit the mound of her breast through the bathing top.
"Please ... Stan ... n-o-o-o-o-o-o-o ... don't ... don't. . . " she screamed, feeling his hot mouth wet her swimsuit top all over again as his teeth sank into her covered flesh. Her nipple, like an obedient soldier, erectly popped out as she helplessly lay there on the tile floor.
"I'll scream," she swore. "I'll scream and bring the entire hotel personnel. "
"Go on and scream. By the time they get here, I'll have you naked and fucked, and they'll all be able to get a good look at that fabulous body. I'll bet your cunt is just great."
"You're treating me like a common whore, " she gasped. "What have I done to you to deserve this?"
"Put it down to jealousy over your getting a job I wanted," he smirked. "Now I can fuck you here, on the cold bathroom floor, or we can go inside on the bed. You choose."
Rosalie was unable to reply. This was all a never-ending nightmare. Suddenly she was tired, so very tired. Let the stupid son of a bitch do whatever he wanted.
She was pulled up by him, and he tugged her into the bedroom where his hands deftly undid the two parts of her bathing suit and tugged them from her body.
"I swear I'll get you for this Stan. I swear it. The moment that penis of yours probes between my thighs you've had it. "
Now that she was totally naked, Stan Bright wasn't worried about her suddenly running away. He looked at her full breasts, enjoying their nut-brown nipples, noting that in spite of the words she was spouting, her breast points were hard and elongated. His hands slid down and cupped the breasts, fondling them, caressing them, making the nipples even harder and longer.
"I'll make a deal with you," he told her. "I'll keep my cock out of your cunt if you promise not to take advantage of your position as my superior."
"You mean you'll let me go?"
"I didn't say that," he insisted. "Honey, I've been waiting to get you naked for so long, if my life depended on it I wouldn't let you go. It's up to you whether you want to risk a pregnancy or not, at your age."
Rosalie knew the odds were greatly against her becoming pregnant. Her husband had tried for years, and he hadn't succeeded. A check of his sperm count showed him to be excessively fertile, so it obviously hadn't been his fault.
"Stan, this is wrong..." she began.
"Cut the crap," he snapped, and he pulled off his bathrobe, revealing his nakedness to her.
Stan Bright was hung like a stallion. He had a cock that looked to be a mile long and a yard wide. He pulled her nakedness to him, and Rosalie felt herself being crushed by his arms. Her mouth was captured and speared by his probing tongue, and the great, enormous beating sword rubbed into her quivering belly. Her naked breasts ground against his harsh, hair-covered chest that heaved muscularly.
A moan tore itself from Stan Bright's mouth as he felt Rosalie's naked loveliness rubbing against him. He squeezed her breasts, his hands biting deeply into her white flesh. The man's cock felt as if it was in screaming agony. His balls were like leaden weights, hanging straight down, threatening to tear through his scrotum. He pushed her back against the brocade-covered bed, and Rosalie, frightened, sprawled back limply, knowing physical resistance was useless, and it was equally useless trying to talk this man out of it.
Bright looked down to see one of her now-tanned legs trailing to the floor, the other thrown out on the bed, and a sparse triangle of brown hair was at the apex, outlining her lovely pink vagina in its proper frame. Her vaginal lips were slightly apart, seeping a faint oil that gleamed brightly on her quivering labia. The pink flesh was swollen and pulsing, and if Rosalie, herself, was refusing him, her body wasn't. He threw himself on that open-doored cloister, his hands catching her smooth hips, his hungry mouth clamped on the spot.
"Ohhhhhh ... no ... no ... no ... don't do that..." she gasped, remembering how out-of-control she had gotten when Rand Stroud had first done this to her. His heated, searing breath and his rubbery lips against her wide-open pussy made her quiver and tremble. His tongue was spearing straight in, and he was kissing her vaginal lips as if they were oral lips. In and out they lanced through her quivering cunt, and her body was already starting to buck in response as she realized she had lost all immunity to this.
'Wo more ... no more ... no more..." she gasped. "Aaaaaiiiiieeeee ... hhhhuuuuunnnnnnhhhhhh ... n-o-o-o-o-o..."she gasped, as she felt his wetly slithering dragon's tongue sink deep into her wetly creaming depths, sending the flamingly desiring, lightning-like bolts through her defenseless body. She trembled with wild sensation as his mouth made her flesh even weaker. Helpless tears poured again from her wet eyes, and she shook as if electric current was constantly zigzagging through her.
Bright drank the all-too-real womanly juices that poured from her flushed feminine orifice, and he all but chewed on her coral flesh it was so tasty and melting. He drew his tongue back and rubbed it over her clitoris before stabbing it into her in darting flashes, feeling his bulging cock rub against the bed, going insane.
"Rosie ... ummmmmm ... Rosalie ... ummmmmmmm..." he gasped, crawling up from the floor where he had been kneeling, moving onto the wide bed, pushing her lovely thighs even more widely apart as he rammed his head between them even more deeply. The pulsing folds of her viscous vagina lay before his wide-open eyes and hungry mouth. He'd never get enough of this tasty pussy.
The pink target, sloshing with her flooded juices, lay before him, and he flattened his tongue and began rubbing up and down, up and down against her enlarged clitoris. He pulled her miniature feminine imitation of a penis between his lips as his heavy hands braced her thighs, forcing them wider apart so he was able to enjoy the sight of her beautifully pulsating feminine sepulchre. Everything between her lovely white inner thighs was completely exposed, right down to the brown flower of her puckered anus.
"Ohhhhhhhh ... hhhhhhuuuuuuuunnnn-nnnnhhhhhhh ... no more ... no more..." she continued gasping, writhing and wriggling, doing her best to muster inner resistance against what the man was doing. The alien tongue of an alien man probed ever more deeply into her trembling slash. She screamed to fight off the sensations of lustful lascivity that were rapidly building higher and higher in her.
Rosalie lay there, wondering if she was ever to be set free from the tormenting demon of lust that invaded her each time she was forcibly attacked. Other women were able to feel nothing from their attackers. Why then did she feel so overpowered and filled with lustful desire.
Stan Bright licked continually with his tongue, tormenting her tiny, highly sensitive clitoris unmercifully, swirling his tongue around it in fevered circles-tasting the heated nectar continually pouring out of her as her slickened lubrications became heavier and heavier. He drank the pungent fluid, savoring the flavor, enjoying it immensely. His lips clamped tightly around the tiny organ, and he pulled so hard, her body shivered as she feared he might actually snip it from her. All the while his massive penis stabbed into the brocaded bedspread, oozing colorless droplets of its own oil.
"Staaaaaaaaannnnnnnnnleeeeeeey ... " Rosalie gasped. "No more ... no more ... no more ... can't stand ittttt. . . " she told him, but he continued licking. Her voice was hoarse and rasping, otherwise she truly would have been screaming. Jolt after wicked jolt of licentiously thrilling rapture blissfully ricocheted through her trembling body as she whimpered and moaned and gasped, feeling him insanely suck on the very essence that was herself. Though she knew this was all wrong, she felt she might faint from the sheer joy of what was happening. Her head was now totally drained of thought, and all that mattered was the voracious tongue guiding her instinctively down the pathway of licentious desire. Her hips were thrusting up now, arching, and her rounded loins were quivering and straining against the pleasure-giving, enchanted mouth. Once more she was a slave to her feelings. Once again she was under the control of her body, and Rosalie realized that if she felt this way with Stan Bright, then it didn't require any special man to arouse her. She wasn't in love with any man, but rather with the sex itself.
Bright continued lapping, feeling the way she responded, knowing there was no way this woman was going to louse him up in the business world.
Hell! If he gave her enough pleasure, she just might come back for more. He was the one to give it to her, too. He was already envisioning a delightful relationship blossoming between the two of them, but he had to make sure she was as willing to give as she was to receive. His hungering teeth bit repeatedly into her sensitive flesh, as he nibbled and sucked on her clitoris. She was spewing out so much oil, it had turned into a white froth.
"Ohhhhhhh ... gggguuuuuuunnnn-gggggghhhhhh ... no more ... no more..." she pleaded, but Bright knew damn well she meant she wanted one helluva lot more.
The high ceiling with its soundproofed panels seemed to melt before Rosalie Martin's glazed eyes. Her vision blurred until she was almost sightless, and the flame between her thighs grew in intensity, until she was certain she would be totally consumed. Inadvertently, she raised her legs and clamped them tightly around the head of the man sucking her wet pussy-that worldly head that seemed to know just what to do and when to do it.
My dear Lord! she thought to herself. I'm more depraved than any of the women I used to accuse of being whores. I love this. I want him to shove all his meat into me.
Bright felt her long, slender thighs close tightly around his bobbing head as he slipped his hands under the rounded orbs of her bouncy ass-cheeks.
Lifting the meaty, pink slippery flesh of her soft vagina to his hungering mouth, he sucked hard at the juicy opening. The soft brown curls of her pelvic hair tickled his cheeks tinglingly, and he had to admit he had never tasted a cunt quite this good.
Catching his breath, he decided it was time to tickle her anal crinkle as well, and he stabbed his tongue directly into it, opening the tight, bud-like orifice. The tiny nether opening didn't resist for an instant, opening wide to accept his tongue. Her body, having undergone this treatment with Rand Stroud, was prepared for it, even if her mind wasn't quite ready.
"Eeeeeyyyyyyuuuuuggggghhhhh ... hhhhaaaaannnnnnhhhhh ... ohhhhhhh ... ggggggaaaaahhhhhnnnnnggggghhhhhh ... uuunnnnggghhh ... uuuuunnnnnnhhhh..." she bellowed, her hoarse, croaking screams becoming more numerous.
The horrible noises seemed not to come from her own mouth, and yet there was no other place from which they would have been able to emerge. Her breasts heaved up and down as she gasped for air, panting and crying. The incredible sensation of Stan Bright's tongue in her rectum was driving her wild. She' knew the man had to be insane. He was just as bad as Stroud. What was it with these men who compulsively had to tongue her rectum?
Bright sucked and licked her rectum solidly with his lancing tongue, and she wriggled right and left until she was ready to roll right off the bed. The man had never seen a woman so sensitive. Sure, most of them went ape when he performed analingus on them, but this one was wildly spinning as if she were a human top. He returned his tongue to her vagina, while pressing his finger into her just-tongued anus, and then, without warning, he spun around on the bed so that he was on the bottom, and he pulled Rosalie on top of him, but his body was now sprawled the length of hers, with his head still between her thighs, and his thighs ready to surround her head. His tongue continued sinking into her delectable pussy as she lay over him, her ass widely spread. He stopped licking for a moment and moved his face from beneath her loins, saying, "C'mon, Rosalie. Tit for tat. Take my cock in your mouth and suck it, honey. Come on and put your lips around it while I continue sucking your pussy. Come on, do it."
Rosalie didn't want to do it. The horse cock beneath her face would surely strangle her, and yet her body was so heatedly aroused, she knew there was no way for her to resist it. Hating herself for having such weak flesh, she stared at the great, blood-bloated penis road mapped with a series of lacy veins. It was a massively pulsating spike that gleamed because of the oily tears secreted by its single weeping sightless eye. Now it was directly below her face. She saw how formidable it appeared, a fleshy mangonel springing out from a hedge of brown hair, jutting forward like a bloated battering ram. It pulsated and twitched, jerkingly under her stare. The wrinkled sac of testicles lay beneath, and the balls within seemed to be floating around while bloated with the semen she would be expected to swallow. Semen! She remembered how it tasted, and her salivary glands started working overtime. Yes, yes, that was just what she needed.
Almost eagerly she opened her lips, her mind still whirling as she wrapped her slim, tanned fingers around the broad shaft of the huge organ. Then she lowered her head and took the engorged penis into the wet, warm shelter of her sucking mouth and tasted the delicious salty tang he was emitting that seeped like honey from the tiny slit in his glans. Her lapping tongue now knew instinctively what to do, and it wrapped itself around the mushroom-shaped cap, catching every little droplet that stickily seeped from within. It seemed to want whatever it was able to get. Bright was already moaning and groaning, not really expecting she would have acceded so easily. Now that she had done so, she had proven herself a veritable succubus.
She sucked hungrily on the thick head of his probing penis, her slender fingers gripping the base all the more firmly to keep it steady, and then Bright's moans were muffled as he jammed his face into the aching void that was her tight pussy, licking lustily. This was what was elegantly known as soixante-neuf, a imagine French description for the number sixty-nine. He was sucking the drippings from her vagina while her mouth clamped itself to his cock, her tongue lovingly laving it up and down. Her mouth worked again and again, and little by little she began to realize there simply was nothing perverted in all this. It was her damned stupid husband and his inability to bring anything across to her that had caused her to be so uptight where sex was concerned. Well, never again, though from this time forth she intended having relationships with men she wanted, and not men who wanted her.
Bright used his tongue to literally scour her vaginal lobes, savoring the flowing meat that continually filled his own oral cavern as it poured from deep within her body, as her straining wall muscles attempted to pull his tongue out by the roots. He went to work with a blissful vengeance, feeling unbelievable himself as Rosalie's mouth tightly sucked the full length of his throbbing cock repeatedly. She was the wildest, hottest woman he had ever known, and to think they worked so close to one another. He definitely had to become more friendly with her, even if she was his superior now ... or soon would be. That wonderful prudish face had its mouth clogged with his cock, and the mere thought sent shivering delights bursting through Stan Bright. Imagine, her fully ripe lips were contorted around his penile stalk. Feeling it as he did, his mind made pictures of what it had to look like.
Rosalie's head started dipping lower over the man's almost bursting organ, and each time her nodding head lifted itself, her tongue licked into the tiny slit in his glans as if trying to pull out more seepage. He shuddered and shivered, thrilling to the feel of her wonderful mouth. A muffled groan tore from his chest and he bellowed into the pink cave of her womanly opening, his ass bouncing on the bed as he drove upward, trying to clog her mouth with more of himself. This only served to make his own mouth sink even further into the steamy recesses of her slavering cunt as she frantically ground her pussylips against his mouth. He listened with thrills to the moist, sucking sounds she was making as she pulled with her tight lips on his throbbing penis. The vibrant sounds mingled with the loud noises his own mouth was making that filled the room. Had the window been open, sounds of their sucking would have carried out to the pool area, a good hundred feet away from them.
Rosalie moaned with unrestrained abandon as she continued sucking on the huge log of flesh trying to now press its way into her throat. She gasped repeatedly as she felt Stan Bright's hungering mouth tear into the tenderly pink flesh of her insatiable pussy. Her hands reached out over Stan's hairy thighs and then slid back to fill themselves with his doughy scrotum. She cupped his balls with gentle tenderness, holding them as if they were delicate pearls of tremendous value that would shatter if dropped. Straining, she pushed her head even lower, forcing the head of his pulsating cock into her throat. She almost swallowed the entire length of his rocky phallus now, feeling the way it jerked with wild rapture beneath the ministrations of her tongue and lips. The mighty organ was pumping between her bloated cheeks as it threatened to bury itself up to the dark brown pubic hair in her choking, gagging mouth.
Caressing his heavy testicles, but not wanting him to come just yet, Rosalie lifted her head from the penil length and began tonguing it all around. Then she leaned down and began licking his hairy, wrinkled sac, making the balls jump up and down like a pair of huge Mexican jumping beans. Her tongue coated his cock with saliva, sweeping up and down the length of it again and again, listening to Stan Bright cry out his anguish for more, his mouth bellowing into the tight depths of her pussy as he continued sucking. Her saliva was dribbling freely down the entire length of the solidly upstanding cock. She began sucking hard, pulling his penile head deep into her tight throat, feeling the way Stan Bright sank his tongue to the limit in her burning feminine oven.
Panting heavily, Bright tugged his head back far enough to blow some cool air into her dribbling vaginal concavity as it uncontrollably dripped some more of its juices onto his face. His hands gripped her rounded, white ass-cheeks and he pulled her even more firmly against her, pressing her slit against his nose and mouth. The wet brown vaginal hairs tickled his nose and cheeks. He heard an agonized gasp as her mouth closed even more tightly around his throbbing phallus. Frenziedly now, she began tenderly teething his penis, closing her lips all the more tightly around the throbbing and pulsating organ. Her buttocks churned wildly in the clutch of his gripping hands, her vagina pressing even more firmly against his sucking face. He wickedly thrust his tongue into the pink folds of her seething volcano, probing, stabbing, jabbing, using it like a penis to fuck as best it could as she moaned and sighed, continuing to give complete oral attention to his throbbing cock. She was magnificent.
Rosalie viciously clung to Stan Bright's face with her thighs, pressing her soft, warm flesh into his countenance until it rubbed up and down. Her vagina tried clinging to his oral organ, wanting to clench it and pull it so far into her he would never get it back. Her inner muscles had become bands of steel.
Rosalie realized she was close to her own orgasm, and this time she intended coming with that tongue jammed down her throat. She was going to give him a face full of lubrication.
The muscles in her back were ridging as her mouth continued to savagely pull on his cock with ever-increasing tugs of her hungrily greedy lips. His tongue slashed up and down like a sharp knife, as if tearing into her softly wet flesh. He wasn't able to breathe any longer with her wet flesh clamped around his nose and mouth, but he didn't give a damn. If he had to die, it was better to die this way.
His tongue once again flatly lapped back and forth over her hard, throbbing little clitoris, and she was insanely wriggling as the thrills continued mounting inside her. Her hands clamped together around the clump that was his testicles as she forced her ripe lips down that last final inch, jamming that last bit of cock into her gagging throat. The glans were pushing past her tonsils, and still she sucked, wanting more and more of it. She was coughing and choking, and he heard her, and for her own sake he wanted to pull part of his cock from her mouth, but her fingernails sinking deep into his ass-cheeks prevented him from moving back as she greedily slurped and gagged, moaning with lust as she wanted more. If possible, she wanted the penis crammed all the way into her aching belly. Bright's heated breath was spewing in little grunts inside her shivering cunt, and the fleshy folds muffled the noise completely. His tongue continued lapping against her little clitoral button of desire while her entire body churned and lurched and swayed, grinding itself licentiously down against his working mouth, as her buttocks frantically twisted in a whirling rotation she had never before known her body was capable of performing.
Bright pried her thighs even wider apart, tugging on her ass-cheeks, pulling and straining them almost to the tearing point, his tongue lapping and licking everywhere, scouring her vagina and reaming her anal depths as well. It was everywhere at once, delving into her rectum, massaging her clitoris, dipping into her tight vagina, even licking the roundness of her lovely white ass-cheeks. His face buried itself in pink, wet folds as he stabbed solidly into her with his tongue. It lanced deeper and deeper, and her muscles within, like bands of steel, clutched the tongue, trying their best to keep it from retreating.
The power of his tongue was becoming too much for Rosalie. Her orgasm was upon her, and she gargled with the phallus clogging her throat as her entire body stiffened, and she gasped, "A A A A WWWWWWPHHHHH-H A A A UUUUUUGGGGGHHH-
HHAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHHH!" She was coming, coming, coming, and the thought burst through her brain like a loud explosion. Somehow, with her mouth wrapped around the man's cock, her orgasm felt more intense than ever.
Her gasping cries hung in the room as she choked and gurgled, the sound filling Stan Bright's burning ears as he felt her mouth cling to his organ all the more passionately, now, sucking with all the verve and power of a huge leech. Her rounded buttocks were gyrating and twisting, and the powerful eruption of her bursting climax twisted his tongue where it was deeply buried in her flaming abyss of delight.
Bright was no longer able to hold back. The maddening charge of semen along the narrowly constricted tube inside his pulsing penis was a tumutuous explosive surprise to him as well. Suddenly his orgasmic gates were flung wide and the heavy flood was released. It roared in a blinding torrent through his shuddering cock with the speed and screaming joy of an express train down a straight, long, downhill pathway. The sound in the man's ears was deafening, but there was no stopping anything now. He was pouring his heavily boiling load of sperm into her anxiously awaiting mouth and throat.
"HHHHH UUUUUU UMMMMMMPHHHHHH-AAAAARRRRRRRGGGGGH-HHHHHAAAAGGGGGHHHH!" the man bellowed into the depths of the vagina he had just licked dry. His voice was gurgling again and again into her exploded pussy, and Rosalie feeling the hot jets hit her throat, understood precisely what was happening in the man, and her mouth licked and pulled and sucked. She swallowed frantically, drinking all his heated spurts as they came out of him, choking on the thickness of his heavy flesh, and loving it. Her head slammed all the way down, and her mouth engulfed every last bit of hard cock as the molten drops continued hurtling into her throat where she was able to swallow everything into the pit of her waiting belly.
Rosalie groaned, her head bobbing feverishly up and down as she sucked the shooting jets of lava without spilling it back down the length of the pulsing penis. The torrents washed her mouth and her throat as she lurched and ground her aching, expanding, slurping vagina against the man's still-working and wonderful tongue as his lips continued their blissful sucking, and skyrockets continued going off in her head. To be able to drink his flow as he continued swallowing her own rapturous pooling was something fantastic. She might not have had feelings for Stan Bright per se, but his cock, now softening ... well, that was something else again. It was the end of the whole world ... for a little while. She felt as if she was disintegrating into a trillion tiny molecules of rapture that would whirl into outer space forever and ever. Nothing mattered except this wonderful eternity that had been created between each other's thighs.
Outside, water splashed in the now-empty pool, and the sun began sinking lower and lower on the horizon. The day was fast coming to a close, and the biggest night of Rosalie's life was coming up. She had to get herself ready for it.
Reluctantly, she rolled away from Stan Bright, and as she gained her feet, looking down at the smirk on the now-sleeping Bright, she tried feeling disgust, but found it impossible. How could one hate a man for wanting her so much he was willing to risk the loss of his own job to possess her?
CHAPTER SIX
The grand ballroom of the Queen's Tavern held more than five-hundred members of the Residential Insurance Company that night. There was steak for a change, and almost every woman there seemed to have a sequined dress that glittered when the lights bounced off it.
Rosalie was one of the few exceptions. She wore a gold cocktail gown, and the glow emanating from her had nothing to do with sequins. She was seated at one of the front tables with Rand Stroud. The only trouble was, Stan Bright had merely whetted her appetite for more, though this was something she would admit to no one. Her body was not to be abused by any male for the asking. Even now, little twinges of conscience continued eating away at her, telling her she was wrong, all wrong for having allowed all these things to happen to her.
When she told herself that she hadn't actually allowed it, her conscience insisted that had she really wanted to get out of it, she would have been able to do so, without any problem.
"You're looking especially good tonight," Stroud said to her. "Tell me, will our agreement still hold once you've officially been designated regional supervisor?"
"Must you bring that up at a time like this?" she asked.
"Of course."
"Yes," she sighed, her voice sounding a lot more reluctant than her body felt. "I gave my word. I'll keep it."
"I can see where we're going to have many good times together, honey. I'm looking forward to them. Hey, look, the awards are about to start."
For the next two hours a multitude of awards were handed out to the different salesmen who had achieved prominence. There were those who were so content with their jobs as salesmen, they had no desires for company promotions. Some were natural rebels and followed the company rules, but didn't want to become executives, and thereby subject to even more rules and regulations.
A special quarter of an hour was devoted to the company's most successful salesman, a man who had the knack for selling insurance to big businesses and corporations. Then it was Rosalie's turn, and the official announcement for which she had been waiting finally was made public. She was now regional supervisor. The next announcement let everyone know that Rand Stroud was being made president of Residential, and he would move to the main office. The president was then congratulated on being moved up to the chairmanship of the company, and the chairman was given a half-hour plaudit by everyone, congratulating him on what a fine job he had done. He would be given a pension of a hundred-and-fifty-thousand dollars a year, and would therefore have to temper his lifestyle. Everyone laughed.
Finally the awards were over, and Rosalie decided to slip away before Rand Stroud suddenly got it into his head to give her a congratulatory fuck. She had enjoyed everything, but now she wanted some moments to herself.
Rosalie hurried back to her room, but when she got there she had a surprise waiting. Somehow, and she'd never know just how, Stan Bright had enjoyed a talk with the retiring chairman, Harry Norton, and they had discovered they had one thing in common. That one thing was Rosalie. Norton had so enjoyed the blowjob she had given him, he decided that with Bright's help he wanted to enjoy her one more time. Hell! He was still chairman until midnight. Stan Bright's presence would let Rosalie know of the power he still held, as if to say he might still reverse his decision and give the job to Bright if she didn't come across.
"Gentlemen," she nodded, leaning against the door she had just closed. "I'm curious to know how you got into my room. "
"We bribed the girl who was turning down all the beds," Bright replied. "No problem."
Rosalie felt her blood turn to ice. She shut her eyes tightly, hoping against hope all this was just a horrible dream and nothing more. Harry Norton was on his feet and standing in front of her, his clammy claws on her breasts again, saying, "You have such lovely breasts, my dear." She opened her eyes and focused them on the man's broadly grinning face. His white hair was a little disheveled, as if he'd had a bit too much to drink.
"What do you want?" she asked.
"Need you ask?" Bright said. "We came here to congratulate you. We think a good, solid fuck is now in order. "
"No, no," Rosalie gasped, recoiling and moving into the room, trying to get away from the two men. She tripped over a lump in the carpet just as she approached the bed, and she fell, half on and half off the bed.
"Let's get right to it," the drunken Norton slurred. "Take off your clothes, my dear. Let's see if you can raise another erection for me."
It was a direct order. Did she dare to disobey? She fumbled, completely silent for the moment, unable to speak because of the humiliation she felt.
She wanted to scream, but one scream might still wipe everything out.
A knock at the door made her heart jump. Maybe there was a chance for her to get out of this. Stan Bright motioned for her to be silent, and he nodded at Harry Norton and went to the door. Opening it just enough to step outside, shutting it behind him, making sure he'd be able to open it by himself again.
Harry Norton reached out to her prostrate figure and he helped her up. Then he proceeded to undo her dress from behind, and he all but tugged it off her. Rosalie, knowing better than to shout, let it all happen. He took the time to kneel and remove her stockings, and then undid her brassiere. Now she was clad in panties, a garter belt, and nothing else.
"You look more beautiful each time I see you," Norton told her. "This is a bonus for me. I really never expected to be with you again. I have Mr. Bright to thank for the suggestion. I've already told the incoming chairman to make him your assistant, thus assuring his promotion when you're promoted again ... and you will be."
He was unbuttoning his own shirt, now, having already removed his jacket. She knew what was coming next and sat on the bed, quivering with inner rage and anger. She was being used again, and this time there was almost no reason for it. Almost. That was the key word. So Stan Bright was being made assistant supervisor, eh. Well she'd make him work his damn behind off.
Rosalie shut her eyes so tightly, sparklers of light appeared before her in the darkness of her fear. Tears welled up in her closed eyes. She had been elated, happy, returning from the ceremonies, convinced all her whoring was over. But no! This old roue had to drag it out to the very last second. She hoped he could raise an erection long enough to fuck her this time. She also hoped he'd suffer a stroke doing so.
Rosalie shivered at his touch, feeling dirty and wrong, thinking of herself as some kind of slave rather than a person now wielding power. She wondered if this was the first time the old man had pulled something like this, or had he raped a multitude of other women after promoting them? One thing was sure, and that was, no other female had ever reached a position this high in the company before. It was horrible being a pawn in a game of corporate politics.
He was parting her legs now, spreading them wide, and she gasped, knowing she was about to be invaded. She flinched in spite of herself as he tugged down her panties, leaving her with the garter belt, though without stocking. Then his fingers parted the softness of her pubic hair and touched her vaginal lips. She felt nothing at the moment. He was going to lick her just as Stroud and Stan Bright had done, but this time all she felt was a numbness. Feeling seemed to leave her body completely.
She realized she was starting to finally gain a modicum of control over her body. It was her mind that was causing the numbness to shudder through her. At last, she was going to conquer her body. Then his tongue touched her clitoris. He put his old, wrinkled lips on it and began sucking it as if it were a very tiny penis. Rosalie's body stiffened as she felt the unwelcome sensations of desire returning to her. His tongue began worming its way inside her jellied pussy, and it was as if he had thrust an electric cattle prod into her. She jumped, trying to slide away from him. Then the slow, rhythmically tantalizing licking with which she was becoming familiar began all over again. She flexed the corded muscles along her inner thighs in an attempt to make the unwanted feeling disappear again. Instead, it added to the enjoyment she was feeling. With the tautening of her loins, Harry Norton went back to the licking of her tiny, upstanding, pulsating clitoris.
"You're such a lovely woman, Rosalie. You make me feel twenty, no, thirty years younger."
Rosalie began moaning and gasping, but mingled with her guttural groans were sobs as she realized what these sensations were implying. Damn! Damn! Damn! This shouldn't be happening to her. The nerves in her vagina were betraying her again as they would always betray her. It was one thing to be raped by Rand Stroud, and she even understood how she fell under the spell of Stanley Bright's tongue. But this ... to feel aroused when a horrible old man was licking her down there ... this was something entirely different. Her body knew no age, knew no race, knew no creed. All it knew was a tongue and a cock. This apparently, was all it wanted to know.
In spite of her revulsion at the knowledge that she was responding all over again, her abdomen rose and fell with increasing rapidity as the old man continued stroking long and hard with his eeling tongue, using his nose to buffet her clitoris as his cheeks rubbed the outer lips of her widely spread vagina. Once more she was a slave to her body and the emotions running through it. Once again she began the constant secretion of oily lubrication, but it wasn't until she discovered her rounded pelvis grinding into the old man's face, that she accepted the fact that sex was something from which she would never escape. She had lost again. She would always lose. Love might be a wonderful thing, but she had known love for a short while with her husband without enjoying sex. Now she was knowing sex without the benefit of love, and the latter was infinitely superior, whether she liked it or not. Her wantonly aroused torso was independently writhing and wriggling as the chairman's mouth enclosed her entire labial area. He began sucking at her slit like one would pull juice from a cut in an orange. Thrillingly exquisite sensations blasted across her loins into tantalizingly aroused nerve-endings attached to the entrance to her vaginal cave. The old man's drooling, dribbling mouth kept its lips tightly clamped except when his tongue pressured its way through the compressed tightness of her own cuntal labia. Rosalie writhed, losing total control over her inner reactions.
She began to reach that ultimate point of no return. She was going to have an orgasm all over again; her second one that night from a mouth. She fought it, screaming in her head that she didn't want it, but inner muscles, nerves, and reflexes all joined to rebel against the discipline her brain was trying to impose. Her body ached for sweet release and would have it. Her pelvis was violently jerking up and down, and her hands, now locked behind his head, were trying to pull his leathery face all the way into her heatedly tingling vagina, and a voice she was unable to control came from between her lips, gasping, "I'm ... uhhhhh ... commmmmiiinnnnggg CCCCCCOMMMMMMIIIIINNNNNN NG-GGGGGUUUUUUHHHHH ... AAAAANNNNNNNHHHHHHHH ... MORRRRRE"
She was almost unconscious from the arousing combination of lust and desire, mingled with shame and embarrassment, and she was ready to drift off to sleep when the old man released her.
He got to his feet and wildly pulled his pants down, kicking off his shoes and tugging his trousers and undershorts off.
"I don't know if I can do it," he gasped, "but by heaven I'm certainly going to try and fuck you. Rosalie, I haven't felt this aroused since I can't remember when, and I have you to thank for it. Before I leave, I'm going to recommend an annual increase in your salary of ten-thousand dollars. You're worth every bit of it."
She attempted to shut her thighs, but he was already between them, and the motion only caused him to move closer to her, arousing him even more. He pushed forward, and his penis slid delectably into her. For an old man he did have a big cock. She had realized it the day she had stuffed it into her mouth, but now, feeling it in her cunt, she was able to accurately gauge its length and thickness. He was plugging a hot, fleshy Sequoia log into her.
"Like it?" the old man asked, already preparing to pull back a little. The withdrawal motion spread her tight thighs a little more, stretching her elasticized walls.
"UUuuuuuuunnnnnnhhhhhh!" was her only reply. Her dilated vagina hadn't had a chance to shrink since her orgasm, and it was a good thing. Had her inner membranes contracted, he would have torn her flesh fitting himself into her. A constant jab brought her out of the half-conscious state into which she had fallen,, and she was writhing, hoarsely gasping, and would have been screaming for help had it been someone with less power over her. He began rapidly fucking in and out, pounding back and forth, and Rosalie opened her eyes to see the old man's crinkly smile, as he was convinced she was enjoying all this every bit as much as he. His cock remained hard in her vaginal crater, and for this, the old man was grateful.
Her vagina was contracting now, and as a result felt as if it was being stretched by six penises inside at once. Her flesh felt ready to tear. His penis lay throbbing, sunk deep in her belly, so thick it filled every bit of space in her cavity.
Harry Norton was still smiling as he continually flexed his thick organ in her tight pussy. He felt like a young man all over again. He didn't even need Stan Bright anymore. He idly speculated that Bright had left the room some time earlier, and he wondered just what had happened to the man. Not that he really cared. He was simply curious.
His mind immediately got off the subject of Stan Bright and back to the matter at hand. His cock was feeling good, and it was stiffer than it had been since he was able to remember. He flexed it deep in her seething pussy, and she felt it jerk up against her cervix.
"Aaaaaannnnnnggggghhhhh!" she grunted, her face contorted and lined with pain.
She kept her stomach muscles as tight as possible, hoping to create some kind of intolerable pressure, forcing his cock to soften and slide out of her. The pressure only served to harden his penis even more, if such a thing were possible.
Slowly, the old man began pulling his stone-stiff cock from the depths of her tight vaginal scabbard until it was two-thirds the way out, then even more slowly he inched it into her. Very slowly he once again pulled it out, then oozed it in. He kept this up for a good three minutes, and was elated to find there was not the least little sign of softening in his aching cock.
"Ohhhhhh ... you're ... uhhhhh ... too thick. . . " Rosalie told him, hoping to make him pull out. She was willing to do anything at this point to stop the ordeal her vagina was feeling from the stretching of his thick penis. Her own body laughed at her, knowing that even though her membranes were being stretched, there was no real pain. She was playing the hypocrite, wanting to make the old man feel really good. His slow, salacious movements were becoming more and more enjoyable with every passing stroke.
Harry Norton continued sliding his penis back and forth in slow motion, and the rubbing between her wet tissues created a sucking noise as the organ wetly slipped in and out of her fully distended pussy. The sucking sounds in her ears added to the forbidden excitement she felt coursing through her betraying body.
"So you like old Harry's cock, eh," the chairman grunted, still smiling, continually stroking.
Yes, she liked old Harry's cock, just as she had liked Rand Stroud's coqk, and just as she had enjoyed sucking on Stanley Bright's cock. She loved all cocks and decided the time had come for her to stop living a lie. Inwardly she was a whore, so she might as well accept it. It was something she was able to live with since she wasn't backstabbing anyone or hurting anyone. Men used words like whore and tramp on women who used their cunts, looking down at them disdainfully, while at the same time they thought nothing of hurting a business competitor, even to the point of completely ruining him. In other words, it was all right to screw someone in business, but if a woman literally screwed, then she was the tramp. This man's world had to change, and she was just the one to help change it, once she became the president at Residential.
She gritted her teeth tightly together when she felt the delicious warmth invade her body. The old man's thick penis twitched again, and she felt her own inner cunt muscles involuntarily responding, sucking inward, and this brought a smile to Norton's leathery face.
Hell! Why should the old man enjoy himself so much? He had believed himself to be causing her a little discomfort before, and he had gone right on fucking her. Son of a bitch! Here was a man with no morals or scruples. She'd be damned if she'd willingly give him more pleasure. Let him be content with what he was doing now. So she fought with every bit of willpower to keep from doing it again. In her struggles to ward him off she hadn't been conscious of doing it the first time. She wasn't certain just how her body had done it against her will. Just don't let the damn contraction happen again.
She managed to control herself for all of fifteen seconds, and then the next contraction came. She had no idea how it happened, but when it did, the man groaned with pleasure, and it made her hate herself all the more since he was unable to fight back in anyway. She was always the one who had to give in. She was the one who had to follow manmade rules. Damn! Damn! Damn! But the contractions happened again ... and again ... and again. Her vagina had suddenly turned into an electric milking machine, pulling, tugging, sucking, slurping, and the muscles therein were far stronger than anything between her jaws. The old man had a look of sheer bliss on his face as he began increasing his strokes, pumping in with swifter regularity, pounding, pounding, pounding, and at the same time building a whole new set of thrills for Rosalie.
"Ohhhhhh ... you feel so good down there," Harry Norton gasped. His voice was a croaking whisper, and she realized no matter what she did or tried not to do, he was enjoying every part of her tender, moving body.
Harry Norton began wondering if it was possible for his body to be revived. Perhaps this was only the first of many attractive women who might be good for him. Surely if one woman was able to do this, there were others. The doctors claimed a reasonable amount of sexual activity was good for the heart. Screwing would help keep him young. Yes, the idea of trying for a sexual comeback appealed to him more and more.
He was using long, pumping strokes between her sucking cunt lips, grinding solidly into her with every stroke. He was aware of his thickness, and her tightness did enhance the feelings that much more. Her narrow inner tunnel was being widened with each forward stroke. The constant friction was causing a new thrilling buildup in her vagina, and it was moving from being intensely cold to agonizingly hot, and now she found herself actively participating without even trying to be willing. Heated passion was being crammed into her seething depths. She felt it creeping relentlessly along her vaginal walls reaching deep inside the narrowness of her womb. She tried fighting the shuddering sensation, but it was useless. She tried to slow down her deep, panting, but she was also unable to do that. She was breathing more and more rapidly. Beads of heavy perspiration broke out on her forehead, and she fought another losing battle with her pelvis after discovering it was continually rising to meet the thrusts of the cock buried inside her. She tried forcing her buttocks to remain still on the mattress, but it was impossible. She was bouncing with a regulated rhythm, and it seemed nothing would be able to stop her.
"Gggguuuuunnnnnnggggghhhhh!" she gasped, finally realizing any kind of fighting, whether to maintain her status of prudery, or to keep pleasure from the horrible old man was hopeless. The battle was completely over, and she had lost. Her body was asserting its independence, and no matter how much she bumped her buttocks into the mattress, she couldn't keep them there. The lascivious flaming tongues of lust obscenely coursed through her blood vessels, and her heart beat all the more quickly in an effort to force the heatedly contaminated blood-contaminated with lust-through her entire body. Now her pelvis began rolling into high gear, unleashing itself after the long struggle she had put up to contain it. The pubis began moving up and down without restriction, riding the monorail of solidity within. The two moved in rapturous harmony with a' mounting excitement. Her inner muscles were the next to totally yield, twitching all around, vibrating, massaging, and sucking on the entire length of the penis thrusting through her. Her muscles pulled and tugged firmly, and the old man groaned with thrilled delight, "You are fantastic, Rosalie. You are one in a million. Imagine ... unnnnnhhhh ... a lady with an insurance mind like yours who really knows how to fuck."
She had lost total control of herself, once and for all. She was two people now ... one being fucked, and one standing off to the side and watching what was happening to her body. She was staring at a full-fledged prostitute who was lying beneath Harry Norton's body as the old man continued slamming his weight against her. Her face was beginning to twist with an uncontrolled expression of wanton rapture. Her wriggling body squirmed under the man, and she was humming low murmurs of delighted encouragement with each new thrust of the man's throbbing cock. Her breath was now coming in dog-like panting, and her legs on both side's of the Norton's body were moving in salacious circles. Now there was nothing but the absolute delicious sensation of lying under this old man who was bringing her to a second peak of thundering glory in such a short space of time. She was all set to orgasm again.
"Uuuuunnnnnhhhhh ... going to come ... going to come ... yes. . . " she gasped, reaching out, aching to feel it...
That was when the old man stopped pumping.
Unbelievingly, she looked up at him, seeing his wrinkled smiling face, perspiration making it glisten like oiled leather as he said, "Yes, you're good for me, Rosalie."
She stared at him, unable to figure out why he had stopped. His organ hadn't shrunk at all. In fact, he was still inside her, flexing the massive baton, making her quiver each time it swelled.
"Does it feel good inside you, Rosalie?" he asked. "Tell me the truth for a change. Don't just talk to make me happy. Does it feel good?"
"I like it," Rosalie told him, with a glazed look in her eyes. "But I do like it."
"Want me to finish?"
"Please," she replied.
"Good. It makes an old man glad to hear he really is capable of bringing a woman as young as yourself some joy and happiness."
"Fuck me.I" she gasped to him. "Fuck me hard, and fuck me deep. Please, fuck me!"
She groaned helplessly, bouncing her buttocks up and down, wanting to bring herself to final satisfaction.
The old man caused his twitching phallus to throb again. He unexpectedly clasped her two buttocks together tightly.
"I'm still not a youngster, even if you make me feel younger," he told her. "So if you don't mind, I'd like you to do some of the work." He rolled onto his side and onto his back, keeping his penis deeply buried in the tight orifice of her clinging vagina. The organ stretched her interior even more, but now there was pure ecstasy with every bit of pressure.
Rosalie propped her knees up on the mattress, gripping his thighs for support as they remained between her own loins. The old man used his hands to yank her rounded buttocks down, and she sprung up automatically, needing no help. She rode his stronger-than-ever cock up and down, up and down, just as if she were on a wooden pony on a merry-go-round. Her vagina reached hopefully for the elusive hardness of his upraised penis, pulling it ever more deeply into her body. She moaned with an even wilder delight as she discovered this new, different position permitted her to jam that little fraction of an inch of cock he had been unable to fit into her all the way into her body. One of his hands reached between their bodies, and his thumb was rubbing her clitoris as she continued bucking up and down. She wanted to hate herself for what she was doing, simply from force of habit, but she realized the futility of hate. She was doing what she was doing because it was impossible not to do it. She was the man's helpless slave at the moment, even though she was on top. Free to jump up, to pull away, to run ... where? Where would she run? Outside? She was stark naked. What good would it do her? All she'd do was undo all the security she had built for herself. No, the cock was the thing she needed most, and the cock she would have, no matter what the consequences at this point were. She slammed her body unmercifully down against his white, hairy thighs, bouncing up and down lasciviously, her breasts moving up and down as well, slamming her naked pelvis against the impaling shaft as if she were trying to spear the entire length of it into her brain.
"Unh, unh, unh, unh," she gasped again and again, each time her body slammed against his. She was once again approaching her crisis, coming closer and closer. Her mouth was working but no words were coming out, and her eyes were rolling in her head.
Once again, on the brink of orgasm, she was stopped by the old man's hands gripping her hips and keeping her seated on his cock. She was incapable of any movement at all.
Rosalie stared down at Harry Norton, feeling his cock throb, though he certainly wasn't spurting into her. Why had he stopped again? What was the matter? He was looking at her, smiling, and he finally said, "Just stay still for a little while, my dear. I don't want to come before Stan gets back. After all, this menage-a-trois was his idea, and I feel it only fair he receive some benefit from it, as well."
Rosalie wiggled her behind a couple of times, hoping to make him loosen his grip so she might go on bouncing to a climax. He held her perfectly still, however, his strength almost prodigious for a man of his years.
Simply lying there, she felt as if a slab of ice had suddenly surrounded her. She felt ridiculous not being able to move, but she remained still, feeling her inner muscles pulling and milking, massaging the thick wand crammed all the way inside her velvet channel.
A few moments passed, then the door opened and Stan Bright came back in.
"Hey," he said, walking over to the bed, offering no explanation why he had been outside so long, "I see you've started without me. Well just let old Stan undress, and we'll really get something going here."
Once he was naked, he climbed onto the bed, then spat on his forefinger, and immediately began rubbing it against her anus. Rosalie caught her breath. She was used to a finger in her rectum while being fucked, as well as sucked. Both Stroud and Bright had fingered her there before. Even so, it was a bit of a shock to have two men working on her at the same time.
"Stanley, this is both, obscene and disgusting," she said, turning her head and looking at him.
"What's the matter, lady? You're behaving as if you've never had a finger in your behind before." He forced his finger deeper, rotating it in the tightly puckered mouth of her anus.
"Stan ... you stop this..." she demanded. "I mean ... how can you, when I'm like this with Mr. Norton..."
"Harry, my dear," the old man reminded her. "Call me Harry."
"You, Stanley, may call me Mr. Norton," the old man told him, gripping Rosalie's hips firmly as Bright began forcing his finger into her anus. This time it didn't simply slide in and out. This time he was moving it around, as if he was trying to widen her anal tunnel, and for the life of her, Rosalie was unable to figure out just what his intentions were. Soon the finger was all the way in to the palm, and a second finger joined it, still rotating, churning about, widening her anus, making her writhe involuntarily. She attempted to escape from the finger by pressing her body down, but this only dug the old man's still solid cock that much deeper into her body.
The hot prick was flexed as Harry Norton grunted with pleasure even more thickly inside her seething vaginal tunnel, and Rosalie was afraid the man would come before she ever reached her own orgasm. That would be a calamity as far as she was concerned, and it made her more angry than ever at Stan Bright for interfering in this way.
Tensing her body, she tried to "eliminate" Bright's finger from her rectal channel, but was completely unsuccessful. Bright continued shoving his finger deeper and deeper, and as a result Harry Norton was moaning, in the wildest throes of ecstasy.
In all the years he had fucked young girls before thinking his penis was too limp to grow, Harry Norton had never once tried making it with a female while another man was with him. It was a new experience, and the man's finger, pushing into Rosalie's anus, forced the wall of membrane separating the two channels to more tightly press against his penis, keeping the blood inside it, making certain it was as solid as if it were petrified.
Stan Bright was now kneading the right buttock with his hand, squeezing the flesh, causing all kinds of arousing tingles charging through it. He lowered his face and began licking between her ass-cheeks, and with his finger still in her rectum allowed his tongue to run up and down in the fixture between her moon-like cheeks. He stopped again to bite her cheek's and continued licking, and all the time his finger continued pumping in and out of her tight rectal tunnel, moving rhythmically, causing her to once again start her bouncing in Harry Norton's lap.
"I ... uuuuunnnnnhhhhh ... can't take much more..." she gasped. "Stan ... don't ... uuunnnnhhh ... do that ... stoppp ... pleeeeeeaaase ... wo more-no more..."
Stan Bright wasn't listening. He was too busy pumping his fingers in and out of her rectum, continuing to move them circularly at the same time.
"Ohhhhhhh ... n-o-o-o-o-o..." she gasped as the fingers pounded harder, really stretching her anal tightness.
"Hurry it up, Stan," the old man gasped. "You have no idea how tight this cunt is. The woman is fucking the very life out of me."
The heavy pressure in her rectum was more intense than it had ever been, and Rosalie was forced to splay her thighs even more widely apart to avoid any additional pain. Stan Bright took advantage of this to actually insert a third finger into her narrow rectum, and all of them made ever-widening circles as her anal opening was expanded to an even greater width.
When he was finally satisfied, Stan Bright slid his three fingers from her rectum, and Rosalie breathed a momentary sigh of relief. Her relief was short-lived as Bright moved between her thighs from behind. He tugged open her softly yielding cheeky flesh, using his thumbs as prybars, and then leaned down one more time and deposited a big glob of saliva at the entrance to her rectum. It bubbled, and some of it actually went into her tiny aperture.
"Now the fun really begins," he whispered to her.
His hands clamped themselves on her hips and he began rubbing his penis against her buttocks, pressing it forward. Although she was still uncertain what it was this man intended, Rosalie decided to fight it by clenching her ass-cheeks shut. She tried writhing again, but was held immovable by the four hands gripping her quivering body.
The head of Stan Bright's cock slipped against her rectal opening, and the realization came to her what the man intended doing. He pressed forward with his cock, and the power was such that the sphincter of her anus opened just enough to let his glans slide in. Then she clamped tight, gripping his pulsing cock just behind the corona.
"Ohhhhhh n-o-o-o-o-o-o-o..."she gasped. "Not that ... not that ... don't do that to me...."
Stan Bright took a deep breath then thrust his penis a bit deeper into her body, pushing, widening her narrow anus, forcing it to enlarge to accommodate the thickness of. his monstrous phallus. He kept pumping it in until his balls pressed against those of Harry Norton, beneath. The two sets of testicles rubbing against one another had the two men feeling static shoot through them.
Rosalie felt as if someone had rammed two stone towers into her shuddering body. She quaked and quivered, unable to control herself, unable to stop what was happening. Her rectum and the lower part of her colon were filled with one pulsating penis, and her shivering vagina was clogged with yet another one. Both were immense in length and breadth, and both were stretching her until she was certain her entire interior would be torn out of her. A thin membrane of elastic tissue separated the two trembling channels, and so separated the two pounding penises. They moved back and forth, each rubbing against the other, like sideswiping diesel locomotives.
Pain tore through her and she shivered, unable to control her body in any way. This was her just punishment for having coveted that job so strongly. Now she was being made to pay, and pay heavily.
The two men began fucking her body, slamming her between them, and she, like a helpless rag doll, felt flung from one to the other, from one to the other like a baseball in a game of running bases. She had thought herself helpless before, but it was nothing compared to the helplessness she felt at the moment. Now her body felt more exposed than ever, and the pressure of these two men was more horrible than anything she had undergone. In again, out again, the penis in her vagina moved with her bouncing body, while the one in her rectum was out again, in again. This time the two men were going to kill her. She no longer needed to worry about security, nor did she have to worry about her retirement. Her life was going to end here, tonight, now!
Stan Bright was slamming into her rectum with maniacal fury, his hot cock thrilling to the narrow tightness of her tubular tunnel. By now, Harry Norton was close to reaching his own satisfaction. He sensed the drooling sperm beginning to move from his testicles to his penis, and he started bouncing up and down on the bed, thrusting his pike ever more deeply into Rosalie's tightened vagina. She had one helluva fantastic cunt. It tasted good, and now it was good to fuck.
Rosalie felt the pain slowly easing now. Little by little it was giving way to discomfort, and the discomfort slowly but surely gave way to a new, deeper kind of pleasure. At first she thought she might be some kind of a masochist, glorying in the hurt they were causing her, but with the passing moments she realized there was no longer any pain in her. It was actual pleasure. She was feeling pleasure in her rectum as she was being buffeted back and forth between the two fucking men.
Unable to escape from these two vile men, unable to prevent what was happening, she had no recourse but to accept it all, and she was accepting with a vengeance. Thrills charged through her. Electricity sizzled through her two orifices as both men slammed viciously into her.
Again she began losing control of her body. Once more an orgasm began rising inside her, but this time it was an orgasm she had no intention of allowing to get away. It was building because of a massage of her anal nerve-endings as well as her vaginal tunnel being scoured. On top of everything else, Harry Norton's thumb was massaging her clitoris again. She was being stimulated in three places at once, and it was driving her absolutely wild.
Now her orgasm was almost on her, hovering over her like a horrible bird of prey looking for some place to set down.
Then, with frightening suddenness, she felt the climax starting to close around her. Now it was she, feeling a sudden desperate hunger, taking control, wrestling it from the two men who had her sandwiched between them. She began frantically bucking and bouncing, jumping up and down, slamming her buttocks up as she leaned forward, hitting Stan Bright in the pelvis with her ass-cheeks. It was she who was now urging the two men to thrust all the more deeply into her, rearing her buttocks in the air as she ground her cheeks around and around to get the full depth of Stan Bright's phallus in her rectum. Then she slammed down as hard as she was able, skewering her body all the more firmly on the penis in her vagina. Up, then down, up, then down. Her body moved as if the two penises were one, and she was simply sliding back and forth on a single pipe within her.
A triple upheaval burst through her body, and Rosalie slammed with powering thrusts up and down, hitting Stan Bright so hard with her buttocks she almost threw him off her each time.
Harry Norton reached his own peak at that point, firing a jet stream of semen into her vagina, flooding her with newly manufactured liquid, exploding it into her vagina again and again.
"EE E E E YYYYYAAAAARRRRRRGGG-GGGHHHHHH!" the retiring chairman bellowed, feeling his strength leave his body with his sperm.
Stan Bright, who was a way behind the other two, began pounding his cock into Rosalie a lot faster, and he continued filling her rectum with his hard penis until he felt the thrilling sensations rise in him. He was firing, too, blasting all of what was left of his semen into her anus, flooding it with the heated white liquid, coating it, soothing the aches within.
Rosalie felt the tired man behind her slide off, and she found that Harry Norton's penis had shrunk so that it had fallen out of her. Wearily, she pulled herself off the bed and staggered to the bathroom, running a tub full of hot water. This time she chose bath oils with the scent "of carnations, and she sank her bone-weary body into the heated tub, never aware of when the two men in her bedroom dressed and left. Her cigarettes were in her purse now resting on the sink, and leaning forward, she grabbed the purse, took the pack out, and lit one up.
What a harrowing convention. It was one she was never likely to forget, and she had been to nearly ten of them. This time she had discovered that she was a whole woman, with all a woman's feelings.
Taking another drag on the cigarette, she relaxed and let the hot water sink into her pores. This was one bath she really needed. "How do you feel?"
Looking up, she saw Rand Stroud enter the bathroom.
"Tired," she said, knowing he was probably aware of what had just taken place.
"I knocked before and was surprised to see Stan Bright come out. He told me about Harry Norton. They really put you through a wringer."
"They did," she nodded, handing him the cigarette butt, letting him flush it down the toilet. "Now I suppose you want some?"
"Give me credit for some human feelings, Rosalie. I'll wait until you're feeling better. Hell! I'm going to be around for a long time to come. Now get a good night's sleep."
CHAPTER SEVEN
As Regional Supervisor, Rosalie Martin had to keep close tabs on all the offices in her region. She spent most of her time going from office to office, making certain everything was going smoothly. Since there were well over five-hundred offices in her region alone, she never returned to the same office more than once a year, unless trouble suddenly reared its ugly head. She kept a very close eye on the managers, and when she saw friction developing between a promising salesman and a manager, she made a point of stepping in personally, trying to straighten things out. This kept many good men from leaving Residential. It also helped boost sales, and, as everyone expected, hers was the best-producing region for the company.
She made frequent visits to the home office, and on more than one occasion was visited by Rand Stroud. She no longer felt any inhibitions about bedding down with him, and she even continued sleeping with Stan Bright, though she made sure he knew she was boss, and not he.
Rosalie had become very pragmatic about her job, and what she enjoyed most was breaking down those who worked under her who believed sex was something relegated strictly to a husband and wife. She enjoyed showing most of them up for the hypocrites they were.
The one she really enjoyed working on was Robert Sametto, a division manager who was doing exceedingly well, but who wanted to become a full-time manager. Rob Sametto was almost six-feet tall, with black hair and brown eyes, with the kind of looks and body to give any woman fits. Unfortunately he was one of those rare individuals who believed in remaining faithful to his wife, once he was married to her. He had a pretty enough wife, too. Rosalie had met her at the next convention. It would have been fun to have Rand Stroud seduce the wife, and then have Sametto walk in on them, but he was such an uptight jerk, Rosalie felt it might break up his marriage, and she wasn't looking to do that. No, she left the wife alone.
When the convention was over and everyone returned to their offices to resume working again. Rosalie went to the office where Sametto was still a division manager, and told him his own manager was inefficient, and was therefore being demoted to division manager again. She wanted to discuss the possibility of his becoming office manager, and therefore, she wanted him to come to the motel room where she was staying while in that part of the city.
Rob Sametto, being totally naive, was certain she meant to discuss business and nothing else, and as a result, showed up at her motel room at three-thirty in the afternoon. Rosalie was ready and waiting for him. She was wearing a silk see-though, negligee and nothing underneath. The moment Sametto walked into the room, he gulped, wanting to point out that all her attributes were visible. He was too much of a gentleman to say anything, and as a result, waited for Rosalie to start talking.
"As you know," she said, lighting a cigarette, then turning to face him so he had a full view of her body under the see-through, "we're looking for an efficient man to replace your present manager who just isn't cutting the mustard."
"I've felt for sometime now that he's been lax," Sametto nodded, only too quick to agree.
"In more ways than one," Rosalie told him. "We at Residential are modern, and we're very forward-looking. We're trying to keep an up-to-date image, which means the complete servicing of all customers at all times. I'm certain you understand that."
"Of course," Sametto once again agreed. "I'll see to it that all my men not only sell their clients, but give them complete service in every respect."
"In every respect?" Rosalie asked.
"Naturally," the man nodded.
"Now Bob, I think it important that we understand the meaning of the words full service. Although our sales force is not expected to baby our clientele, we have to do many things above and beyond the call of normal duty, don't you agree?"
"Well, we've already had some men doing baby sitting service when they went to a client's home. One even changed diapers."
"Excellent. Then you do understand the meaning of the concept of full service."
"I would certainly hope so," Sametto nodded.
"Now Rob, suppose I were a client, and you came here to sell me a policy. Suppose you saw that I was somewhat depressed and unhappy. As you know, depressed clients often give poor medical readings when the doctors examine them. I think it imperative to remove all kinds of depression."
"Well ... uhhhhh ... yes, of course."
"Good. We're still in agreement. Now you see me here, down in the dumps, unhappy, so how do you go about cheering me up."
"Well, the first thing I'd do is try to find out what is troubling you."
"As I said, pretend I'm a client. Go ahead."
"Uhhhh ... yes ... well ... uhhhh ... tell me, Ms. Martin, you seem to be unhappy. Is there anything wrong?"
"Nothing you can do much about." Rosalie sighed.
"Well, why not let me be the judge of that. An attractive woman like yourself ought not to be so morose."
"I go out on many dates, but most men just shake my hand at the door and leave when the date is over. Tell me, Mr. Sametto, is there anything wrong with me?"
"Of course not," he said, sounding a bit more self-assured.
"Would you care to prove it to me?"
"What do you mean?"
"Mr. Sametto, I need to be loved. I need it badly. Do you think you could love a woman like me?"
Rob Sametto had backed himself into a corner. He realized too late that there was no way out of it. If he refused, he would, in essence, be rebuffing the one person who would be able to promote him to the next job he wanted. Without that promotion he was at a dead-end. Whether he liked it or not, he realized he had to go through with this. Not that making love to a woman like Rosalie Martin was such a horrible chore, but it meant breaking his vow of fidelity. He only hoped his wife would never learn of this.
"You're ... uhhhhh ... an extremely attractive woman," he said, moving closer to her. "Why you're very pretty."
"All of me?" Rosalie asked, knowing she had him.
"Why ... uhhhh ... yes."
"Wouldyou kiss me to prove it?"
"Of course," he nodded, and came closer.
"Not on the mouth," her voice said.
"Pardon?"
"I said, not on the mouth. I want you to kiss me here."
She opened up as she sat in the chair, spreading her thighs and pointing to her vagina.
"There?" he asked, gulping, never having done anything like that with his wife.
"As a person who knows how to give full service you'll certainly be entitled to become the new manager of your office."
Slowly Sametto sank to his knees, moving forward, and he moved his head gingerly between her white thighs. Rosalie smiled, reached out and slammed his face into her vagina, and as his tongue instinctively reached into her sopping vagina, she smiled and slammed her hips forward, clamping her thighs around the man's head. He was amateurish at it, but he would learn. She would take the time to teach him. She had so much time.