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   Copyright 1999 by E.  Z.  Riter.

   E-mail address: ezriter@hotmail.com

   Please!  Give me your comments!

   TRUST

   My wife, Denise, had been very agitated lately.  Something was bothering
her, but my inquiries were deflected out-of-hand.  Since nothing seemed
wrong between us, I told myself it was work related.  When she came home
Thursday night, her anxiety had reached a new peak.

   "What's going on?"

   "We need to talk," she said.  "Mix me a drink and make it strong,
please."

   Five years ago when she was nineteen, Denise went to work for a large
privately owned company.  Smart, a hard worker and good looking, she'd been
promoted from the typing pool through the ranks.  A month ago, she was
selected to be one of the three executive assistants to Mr.  J.  Woodward
Chase, the billionaire owner.

   The promotion had three unusual job requirements.  She had to dye her
hair blonde, maintain her figure, and Mr.  Chase would select and pay for
all her work clothing.  The clothes he selected were demure, classy and
expensive with an elegant, understated sexiness.  Denise looked good as a
blonde.  She'd inherited a narrow waisted, full breasted figure from her
mother which required little diet and exercise to maintain.  The clothes
made her look even better.

   "I want you to listen to everything I have to say, Danny.  Don't get up
and run off.  Okay?"

   "Sure, baby.  What's wrong?  Did I do something?"

   "No, honey.  It's about work.  It's a long story."

   "I'm all ears," I replied, settling back into my chair.

   "Do you know why I was picked to be one of Mr.  Chase's assistants?"

   "Besides the fact you're wonderful?  No.  Why?"

   "He can trust me.  I treat everything like it was top secret.  I always
have.  I would've had more friends among the secretaries if I'd shared
gossip from time to time, but I never did.  Trust is very important to me."

   "You are very trustworthy."

   "Yes, I am and so are you.  That's one of the things I've always admired
about you.  Trust is the cornerstone of a marriage as well as a business
relationship, isn't it?"

   "Yes, it is," I said.

   "About a year ago I heard a rumor Mr.  Chase had a mistress who gave
birth to three children by him.  I didn't believe it.  All rich men have
wild stories floating around about them, you know, about women or crooked
deals or whatever."

   She took a deep breath and sipped at her scotch and water.

   "As an executive assistant, I see his personal, confidential files,
things no one else sees.  Some of these files relate to that rumor.  The
rumor's true.  His mistress gave birth to three of his children.  Only,
Danny, it's not one mistress - it's four.  Four women have had his children
out of wedlock."

   "You're kidding me."

   "No, I'm not.  It's true.  Mr.  Chase has nineteen children, seven with
his wife and three each by four other woman.  I wondered why any man would
want so many.  I did some reading.  Many anthropologists think all men have
a deep biological urge to impregnate as many women as possible."

   "I've read about that.  All mammals have it."

   "Mr.  Chase certainly does.  He's very intelligent, physically large and
powerful, and rich, so if all that's the result of good genes, his must be
very good."

   "There are other gene qualities, you know," I said.

   "Yes, there are.  All sorts of things are genetically based.  Life
expectancy is inherited, in part anyway, as are heart attacks, cancers, and
a whole bunch of other diseases."

   "I'd never really thought about it.  I must have some good genes, too.
Everybody in my family lives into their seventies."

   "My family's even longer lived, but nothing compared to Mr.  Chase. 
He's fifty-three.  His father's going strong at seventy-two and his
grandfather's ninety-four.  His great-grandfather died at one hundred
three. Old Mr.  Chase has a forty-year-old girl friend, so even that works,
I suspect."

   "Denise, why are we discussing this?" The back of my neck tingled.

   "Women have a tougher time of it.  We're the givers of birth and the
ones who raise the young.  The future of the species depends upon how well
we do our job.  Women have to select a man to love and who loves them,
someone who will care for them and help care for their children.  And we
have to select the right man to impregnate us so the children'll carry the
best possible genes."

   The tingle exploded into tremors.

   "What does that mean?"

   "I've been thinking about having a baby."

   "Oh?  When we talked about it a month ago, you wanted to wait until you
were thirty."

   "That's true, but I've been thinking about it a lot lately.  I'm ready
now.  I want to be pregnant."

   "And?" I said.  I felt light headed and sweat beaded on my brow.

   She leaned forward.  Her eyes were pin points of intensity.  "Do you
trust me, Danny?  Do you trust me with your life and your future?"

   "Yes."

   "Then you must trust me on this, too, because it's our future.  Ours and
our children.  You must trust my instinct to do what's best for all of us."

   "What are you trying to say?" The sweat flowed and I wiped my face with
my handkerchief.

   "My instinct, my gut-level female intuition, tells me to select the best
male for loving, living with, and nurturing my children.  That's you.  It's
always been you.  I love you, Danny.  Trust me on that.  "

   I didn't answer.  I don't think she expected one, but I couldn't speak
if she did.

   "Those same instincts tell me to choose the best possible gene pool to
impregnate me.  Danny, Mr.  Chase wants me to be his fifth mistress and
have three children by him.  He asked me Wednesday."

   "Go on," I croaked.

   "I accepted.  I'll become his mistress and have his three children.  I
know it's the best thing for the children and for us."

   "Do you love him?"

   "No!  Trust me, Danny.  This isn't love.  This is biology and genetics.
I don't want to spend my life with him."

   "But you want him, not me, to father your children."

   "Our children.  The ones we'll raise together."

   "Is it about sex?"

   "What do you mean?"

   "Have you had sex with him?"

   "No, of course not."

   "Has he asked you to do it?"

   "No, he hasn't."

   "Do you want to?"

   "I must have sex with him in order to have his children.  That's what
this is about, having children."

   "But do you want to have sex with him?"

   "Danny, don't you trust me?"

   "Of course I do."

   "Then you know I've always been faithful to you."

   "If it's about children, well, are we going to have any?"

   "We'll have three children."

   "No, I mean are you going to have any children I father."

   "I knew what you meant, but it's important you realize these three will
be yours.  Your nurturing will help mold them.  I don't think we should
have more than three.  That'll be enough."

   "I don't like this.  You need to tell him no."

   "Weren't you listening?  I agreed to do it."

   "Maybe that decision was for you, but it wasn't for me."

   "Yes, it was.  It was for us.  You have to trust me and my intuition,
Danny."

   "And if I don't trust you on this, Denise?  What then?"

   "If you don't trust me, how can I trust you?  I can't let a man I don't
trust help me raise my children.  It's too important."

   She yawned and stretched, letting her robe open to treat me to a view of
her body.  "I'm ready for bed, honey.  Please come hold me."

   That was as demonstrative as Denise ever got in asking for sex.  We made
love as we always did.  I played with her until she warmed up.  She brought
her knees up, letting me enter her.  I pumped away until my orgasm came. 
She put a towel between her legs and rolled over, her back to me, and went
to sleep.  We did it that way twice a week, sometimes three.

   I sometimes wondered if she really liked sex.  She assured me she almost
always orgasmed.  I could feel the contractions of her pussy on my cock,
hear her breathing change and feel the elevation of her body heat, so I
believed her.  But where was the explosion?  Where were the sweat, the
moaning and the other signs?  Where was the ecstasy and passion?

   Maybe that was it.  Maybe I wasn't sexually pleasing her and that's why
she wanted to accept Mr.  Chase's offer.  Maybe it was pure lust.  She
slept soundly beside me as I thought about the bombshell she'd dropped on
me that night.  It was early morning when sleep finally came.  I wished a
decision had come with it.

   Denise awakened me the next morning.  "We have a four o'clock
appointment this afternoon with Mr.  Chase.  He'll explain the financial
arrangements to you."

   "What financial arrangements?"

   "Of me being his mistress.  Have a good day, honey.  I'll see you at
four and don't you dare be late." She kissed me on the cheek and left me
with the same thoughts I'd had all night.

   I arrived at three fifty-five dressed in my best suit.  Their offices
were on the top floor of a major office building.  I went to the
thirty-third floor, cleared security, changed elevators and continued to
the top.  The floor receptionist passed me to the receptionist for Mr. 
Chase.

   Denise was beaming when she came out.  She took both my hands and kissed
me on the cheek.  "I'm so glad you're here.  You don't understand how
valuable Mr.  Chase's time is.  His meeting with us is quite an honor."

   "He should be honored you agreed to be his mistress," I said under my
breath.

   "Danny, many women would love to have an offer like this.  He picked us
and it's our honor.  Now be on your best behavior."

   Mr.  Chase was standing beside a large conference table covered in
documents.  Two men and two women were with him.  "His key men and the
other E.A.s," Denise whispered.  Both the women were very attractive,
blonde, built, and beautifully dressed, just like Denise.  I wondered if
either of them had been offered the "honor" he offered us.

   J.  Woodward Chase was what I expected.  Physically imposing,
immaculately groomed, he was a large man, thick and barrel chested as well
as tall.  He greeted me warmly and started small talk to put me at ease. 
If he had special feelings for Denise, they didn't show.  I was surprised I
liked him in spite of the situation.  I knew I'd respect and, maybe, fear
him.  Liking him was a plus.  Finally, he turned to the topic at hand.

   "What has Denise told you about my offer, Dan?" he asked.

   "Very little except she'll become your mistress and bear three of your
children."

   "That's the emotional bottom line," he said with a smile.  "Let me tell
you about the financial bottom line.  Do you know what a trust is?"

   "Not really."

   "A trust is a legal agreement which transfers assets to a trustee for
the benefit of someone," he began.  I listened closely as he explained the
agreement establishing a trust for Denise, me and the three children of his
she would bear.  When I looked at her, she was smiling happily and appeared
unconcerned about the financial ramifications.  I wondered if she'd been
over them previously or if her motivation was non-financial.

   "In addition, I'll bonus out one hundred thousand dollars after tax to
Denise on the day the agreement's signed to be used as down payment on a
new house and its furnishings," Mr.  Chase concluded.

   "How much do you expect the income from the trust to be, Mr.  Chase?"

   "Before taxes, about two hundred thousand a year.  That's a four per
cent return on the five million trust principle."

   I blanched.  He was watching me intently.  Denise seemed to be in
another world.

   Maybe that was it.  Maybe it was the money because there was a lot of it
in this trust.  I was making sixty thousand a year.  Two hundred thousand
more seemed like a dream.  When the trust terminated, Denise, the three
children and I would have a million in cash each.  It was mindboggling.

   "The reason for the trust, Dan, is to provide a good life style for my
children and their mother.  I wouldn't bring a child into the world and not
provide for them financially.  Denise would continue to work here until she
became pregnant with the first child.  After that, her responsibility would
be raising those kids.  Part of the agreement would be that you continue to
work.  I want a stable, normal household for them."

   "Thank you for explaining it, Mr.  Chase.  It's very generous."

   "I want the best for my children and their family, Dan.  Trust me when I
say I'll never intrude upon their lives, but I'll be there if wanted or
needed."

   Mr.  Chase's expression appeared to be honest and sincere, but a man
didn't reach his position without controlling his emotions.  Denise was a
cat, inscrutable.

   "May I ask about the sexual part?" I inquired.

   "What do you want to know?" Mr.  Chase replied.

   "I assume you'll have sex with her at least three times."

   His eyes were cold when they cut to Denise.  Her expression didn't
change.

   "Dan, I thought you understood that.  She'll be my mistress.  I'll have
sex with her when and where I want.  It won't be just to impregnate her. 
If we agree to this, we'll have sex immediately.  After about a year,
she'll go off the pill.  I like to space the babies two years apart.  After
she's recovered from the birth of the third baby, she and I will take a
week together somewhere.  Our sexual relations will end after that week. 
So, for about eight years, Denise and I'll have sex on a regular basis."

   Denise's expression still didn't change, but her legs were crossed and
the foot in the air was rocking back and forth.

   "You understood that, didn't you, Denise?" he asked.

   "Yes, Mr.  Chase.  I understood," she replied.  Her voice was sultry,
like I'd never heard.

   My emotions were a jumbled mass, like neutrons in a particle
accelerator. Mr.  Chase must have seen that.

   "Denise, excuse us.  I want to talk to Dan alone."

   She bolted upright, shaking and apprehensive.  She started to speak, but
his look silenced her.  She didn't look at me as she turned on her heel and
walked from the room.

   "Want a drink, Dan?" Mr.  Chase asked.

   "If you're having one."

   "I think I will.  What'll you have?"

   "Scotch and water, please."

   He pushed a button and one of his executive assistants appeared.  He
introduced her as Virginia and ordered drinks, which she prepared before
leaving us.  After we sat in his conversation area, he loosened his tie and
took a sip.

   "Dan, I don't think Denise being my mistress is a good idea."

   That floored me and I gasped, "Why?"

   "If I put ads in the major papers offering this trust arrangement, I'd
have five million women accept within two days.  But - this isn't something
I do lightly.  I'm concerned about the women and my children.  I do care.
While I provide genes and money, the children will be raised outside my
direct control and that always concerns me.  I've never had a married
mistress and, at this point, the dynamics trouble me."

   "Why?" I knew why I was troubled, but why was he?

   "When Denise asked me to make her my mistress, I . . .  "

   "Excuse me, Mr.  Chase.  Denise asked you?"

   "Yes, she did.  That's another troublesome issue.  I've always initiated
the agreement."

   "She told me you asked her."

   He reached under the table next to the couch and Virginia appeared
again. "Put on the tape of Denise from Wednesday, Virginia," he said.  A
screen lowered from the ceiling.

   "It's ready, Mr.  Chase.  Would you like another drink?" she asked,
handing him a remote control.  She refreshed our drinks before leaving.

   "Denise and Charlotte really report to Virginia.  She's assistant number
one.  She's forty-nine, happily married, and been with me since she was
eighteen.  We had a brief affair when we were both young and single.  I
haven't touched her in almost thirty years, but I trust her with my life.
She knows things the others don't know, such as everything in this office
can be recorded on both audio and video."

   Nervously, I sipped my drink.

   "I recorded my discussion with Denise on Wednesday.  I want you to see
it."

   The screen lit up.  Denise was standing in front of his desk.  She
looked excited.

   "Yes, Denise," he said.

   "I'd like to talk to you, Mr.  Chase."

   "About what?"

   "I overheard Virginia talking to Charlotte about protocol relating to
Margaret Woodman."

   "That's no concern of yours, Denise."

   She took a step toward his desk.  Her tongue flicked across her lips. 
Erect, head held high, she was poised and beautiful.  However, there was
hesitation in her eyes, an indecisiveness which flickered in her heat.

   "Well, Denise, whatever it is, spit it out," Mr.  Chase said.  He
sounded irritated and I wished I could see his face.

   "How do you select your mistresses?" she asked.  The words burst from
her.  A tear rolled down her right cheek and she turned beet red.  A tremor
starting in her feet rolled up her body.

   "Why do you ask?"

   She opened her mouth, but no words came out.  Another tear fell, then a
few more followed it, one by one.  Her hands clenched and unclenched.

   "Why do you ask?" he repeated softly.  Still, she didn't answer.  "Why
don't you leave and come back when you're ready to talk." She took a step
backward, then another.  She turned away as if to leave, stopped and turned
back to him again.

   "You know why I asked, " she accused.

   "Yes, I do, but I want you to say it.  If you can't say it, you can't do
it."

   Her head bowed as she nodded agreement.  She shyly whispered, "I want to
be your mistress."

   "Do you know what that means?"

   "Yes.  I'll have your babies."

   "It's more than that.  You and I will be lovers.  We'll make love
whenever I want."

   She stared at him, open mouthed and wide eyed.  "I knew there'd be many
times, but I didn't think about all the time."

   "Why don't you think about it?  Now, if you'll excuse me."

   Defeated and dejected, she walked away.  The screen went black and the
lights came on.  Mr.  Chase was studying me now as I'm sure he studied
Denise that day.

   "Want a refill on that drink, Dan?"

   I nodded.  We were silent as Virginia again refreshed the drinks.

   "That film was shot at nine-thirty in the morning.  What you're going to
see now started at foureleven in the afternoon."

   The lights went off and the screen lit up.  Denise was again standing in
front of his desk.

   "Yes, Denise."

   "I've thought about it.  I want to do it." Her eyes were alert and
excited, her face radiant.

   "Do what?"

   "Be your mistress."

   "Are you sure?"

   "Yes.  Very sure." She did look sure.  She'd reached a decision.

   "I'm glad to hear it.  You're a very intelligent and attractive young
woman.  Let's get started.  Take your clothes off."

   "Now?" she whispered.

   "Yes, now.  Take you clothes off and then we'll have sex."

   "All right," she said in a hoarse, sexy tone.

   Denise's eyes were wide with anticipation as her hands reached for the
top button of her blouse.  The screen went blank and the lights turned on.
Mr.  Chase was watching me intently.  My hands were shaking and I finished
my drink in one gulp.

   As Virginia refilled our drinks, I thought about what Denise had told
me. She'd said Mr.  Chase didn't ask her to have sex.  That was true, in a
way, I guess.  He didn't ask; he ordered.  What had she said about her
wanting sex with him?  I couldn't remember, but she seemed eagerly ready to
participate.  My emotions were wild and confused.  I didn't know if I
trusted myself to sit through the rest of that tape.

   "I can't imagine what's going on in your mind right now," Mr.  Chase
said.  There was compassion in his voice.  "Are you all right?" He waited
patiently.

   "I want to see the rest of the tape," I stammered.

   The lights went out.  That day Denise had worn a sleeveless, hot pink,
form fitting blouse buttoned to the neck, over an uplift bra.  Her charcoal
black skirt was very tight and ended four inches above her knees.  She wore
open toed black pumps with four inch heels and nude colored stockings.

   Her eyes danced as she slipped the top button through its eyelet and
parted the neck of the blouse.  Slowly, her fingers undid the second button
and the third.  Her eyes never left him.

   Her movements and expression subtly changed as she undid the fourth
button.  Her fingers struggled with a once simple task.  Her eyes dimmed
and uncertainty clouded over them.  The fourth button opened and the pink
of her bra was visible.

   Her struggle increased with the fifth button.  With the sixth, she
appeared shocked by what was happening, but her fingers continued as if
someone else was moving them.  She gasped when she unzipped her skirt and
it slipped down.  Held by one last button, the tail of her blouse covered
her panties.

   "No," she mouthed, but the last button opened and the blouse slipped
from her shoulders.  Her sheer bra trapped, but displayed, the bounty of
her breasts.  The full lips of the treasure between her legs strained
against the wet transparency of her bikini panties.  She froze that way,
her face anguished, her body ripe and ready.

   On the film, the phone rang.

   "Damn it, Charlotte, my 'no interrupt' light is on," Mr.  Chase said
fiercely into the intercom.

   "I'm sorry, sir," she pleaded, "but it's the Secretary of Commerce.  He
insisted."

   "This phone call will take a long time, Denise.  We'll have to continue
this later," Mr.  Chase said.

   As the audio recorded a captain of industry talking to a Cabinet
officer, the video recorded my wife slowly dressing.  She looked sexually
frustrated, but relieved.  When she left on the film, the lights came on.

   "I wanted you to see the rest of the tape.  Nothing happened between
us."

   Nothing happened, or had it?  She'd stripped to her underwear for him.
She would've fucked him, but the phone rang.  When does the adultery occur:
when there's agreement to fuck or when there's fucking?  When does the lie
occur: with intent or with action?
"Your wife is very conflicted over this as you saw in the video.  You're

not sure either, Dan.  I want a stable life for my children.  The way you
both feel, stability is problematic.  That's why I don't want to pursue an
agreement."

   He stood, indicating the meeting was ending.  "I'll say this," he said,
"your wife's a ripe plum.  Somebody's going to pick her."

   "What does that mean?" I asked.

   "My guess is your sex life is quiet and calm." I nodded and he smiled
knowingly.  "The first storm that thunders into her life will blow her off
her feet.  She wants to be taken, Dan.  She wants to be taken long, hard
and often.  That and the money is what's driving her, not the babies. 
Trust me on this."

   Denise was waiting when I left Mr.  Chase's office.  She was tense,
snapping short questions to ask what happened.  When I told her to shut up,
she burst into tears.  Our evening was a tactical battle of belligerent
thrusts and parries.  We didn't touch or talk except to argue.  I slept in
the extra bedroom.

   I was eating my cereal in the morning when she came out dressed for
work. She wore another uniform.  This one was an emerald green dress with a
scooped neckline and skirt which ended at mid thigh.

   "Are you going to do this, Dan?  Yes or no." Her tone was short.

   My answer was going to be the death knell of our marriage, but I
couldn't live with it any other way.

   "No, Denise, I'm not."

   "Well, I'm going to do it.  Since I can't trust you to trust and support
me, I want a divorce."

   "I'm sorry we're ending this way.  I love you," I said, as a tear
slipped down my cheek.

   "Love?  I think you did.  I think I loved you, too, but it's over now.
Goodbye, Dan."

   I spent the day chewing on the broken remains of my marriage.  They
tasted rancid in my mouth.  By mid afternoon, tears had flushed love away,
leaving an void in my heart.  If money and genes meant that much to her,
let her go to them.  I'd lead my own life.  I might not be rich, but I'd
have my pride and my honor.  Someday I'd have a woman who loved me and
wanted to have my children.

   The door bell rang about four.  I was surprised to find Virginia there.

   "May I come in?" she asked.

   "Certainly, but why are you here?"

   "I'll explain," she replied.  I guided her to the living room couch.

   "Mr.  Chase would like for you to sign some legal papers.  If you want
an attorney that's acceptable, but these are so simple you can easily
understand them.  First, a divorce agreement.  Denise has already signed
it. You get everything, including her car.  She'll take only her clothes
and jewelry.  She'll return the engagement and wedding rings you gave her."

   "I don't want them."

   "Neither does she.  You can hock them."

   The agreement was simple and straightforward as she stated.  I signed
it.

   "Our lawyers will file the divorce agreement Monday morning.  State law
requires a two-month wait, but the judge won't have any problems with this.
Consider it done.  Next, a confidentiality agreement between Mr.  Chase and
you."

   It, too, was simple and straightforward.  He was paying me a hundred
thousand dollars for my confidentiality.  I signed it and took the check.

   "There's one other thing," Virginia said.  "Do you have a VCR?"

   "Yes," I answered.  She handed me a tape.

   "This was taken this morning," she said.  The time in the corner showed
nine ten.

   Denise was standing in front of Mr.  Chase's desk again.  She looked
wildly alive and energized.

   "Good morning, Denise," he said.

   "Good morning, Mr.  Chase.  I'm ready to be your mistress," she replied.

   "Are Dan and you both in agreement?"

   "No, but I want to do it.  I've told him I want a divorce," she said
emphatically.

   "You're willing to divorce your husband over this?  He means that little
to you?"

   "Yes.  I'm ready for a change."

   "And have three babies to raise by yourself?  That's quite a burden, not
as much fun as it sounds at first."

   "It's what I want," she said, but I detected uncertainty.  I was sure
Mr. Chase could see it.

   "Don't you trust yourself to be honest?  Don't you trust me enough to
tell me?"

   "Tell you what?"

   "What you really want."

   Denise starting to tremble.  Sweat appeared on her forehead and she
licked her dry lips.

   "You don't want the babies.  You want the money," Mr.  Chase said.

   "Everyone wants financial security."

   "And you want the sex.  You want wild, mind blowing, uninhibited sex."

   "Yes," she hissed.  "Yes, I want it."

   "Money and sex is what you want."

   "No.  I want sex and money, in that order," she countered with a leer.
He laughed and she laughed with him.

   "Instead of the trust agreement and having my children, let's make a
different deal, Denise.  Let's start with a nice townhouse beautifully
furnished, a new BMW Z3, more clothes and jewelry.  I'll pay all your
expenses.  In addition, I'll give you a hundred thousand dollars now, and
another hundred thousand at the end of the first year.  I'll give you two
hundred thousand at the end of the second through fifth years.  That's a
million dollars in securities and cash over five years.  That's as much as
you'd get from the trust and you don't have to wait to have it."

   "And the sex?" she asked.

   "Are you wet between your legs, Denise?"

   "Yes."

   "Damp or flowing?"

   "Flowing," she gasped.

   "I'll tell you how, when and where I want you.  If you're not hot and
eager to please me or if you tell me no, the deal's off.  I'll share you
with some friends.  If you tell them no, the deal's off, and it's off if
another man touches you without my permission.  Uninhibited sex at my
command and under my control, that's what I'm paying you for, Denise.  Do
you understand?"

   "Yes," she sobbed.

   "You'll have more sexually variety this way.  Under the trust agreement,
you'd be limited to Dan and me.  This way there will be many different men,
but you'd like that, wouldn't you?"

   "Yes."

   "You agree to do this because it's what you want."

   "Yes.  Yes!"

   "Let's get started.  Take your clothes off."

   There was no hesitation today, no false modesty, no indecisiveness. 
Arrogantly, she stripped away the burden of her clothes.  Her panties were
kicked away with disdain.

   "Very nice, but do you know what to do what that body?"

   "Yes.  Danny didn't, but I'll bet you do."

   "Yes, I do," he replied.

   In a moment, Mr.  Chase was in the picture.  Her face was lust as she
undressed him.  When she yanked down his boxers, a magnificent cock, hard
and purple, popped in her face.  He commanded, "Suck me."

   Denise refused me oral sex, but she sucked Mr.  Chase's cock with
abandon.  When it was wet with her saliva, he held the back of her head and
fucked her face.  The camera recorded her wide eyes and the bulge in her
cheeks as he mercilessly drove his cock deep into her mouth.

   "That was marginal, Denise.  You need to become a good little cocksucker
if you expect me to be happy with you," he said.  "Let's see if you fuck
any better than you blow." He yanked her to her feet, shoved her face down
over the back of an arm chair, and said, "Grab the chair arms and don't let
go."

   She was facing the camera.  He was behind her.  I couldn't see the
connection, but I could see them.  She twisted and groaned lustily.

   "Stick it in," she begged, wiggling her ass.

   "Want to be fucked, little whore?"

   "Yes, yes, I want you to fuck me."

   She squealed when he thrust in all the way and stopped.  His stroke was
so strong he lifted her feet off the floor.  She kicked and moaned as her
first orgasm hit her.  Orgasm after orgasm crashed over her, in waves of
heat, sweat and spasms, as he pounded her with long, hard strokes.  He
fucked her cunt until she collapsed across the chair.  It was a display of
hard fucking I'd only imagined, but he wasn't finished with her.

   "No," she whispered.

   "What did you say?" he growled.

   "I didn't mean it, but, please don't, that will hurt."

   He grabbed her by the throat and yanked her head back to his, arching
her.  Her big breasts wobbled, their nipples erect and purple red.  "If you
ever tell me no about anything again, I'll throw your slutty ass out on the
street.  Do you understand?"

   "Yes, Mr.  Chase."

   "I'm not a sweet guy like Dan, not with a whore like you.  Ask me to
fuck your ass."

   "Mr.  Chase, please," she sobbed tearfully.

   He swatted her hard across her flank.  She squealed and he swatted her
again.

   "Fuck my ass," she said through gritted teeth.

   "I'm losing patience with you, Denise, and if I lose patience, you lose
a million dollars.  Say it like you mean it and always say please."

   "Please, Mr.  Chase, fuck me in the ass."

   "Much better," he said.  "Reach back with both hands and spread the
cheeks of your ass for me.  Lodge my cock head right against your bud."

   "Oh, God, it hurts," she wailed as he slammed into her, burying his cock
to the hilt.

   Pinned by his cock between his body and the chair, she was like a live
bug pinned to a mat.  As she twisted and turned, one of his hands held her
head firmly in place and the other roughly played with her breasts,
extending her nipples and squeezing hard.  I could see the pain in her face
change to passion.  I could tell when she started thrusting back to meet
his strokes.  It didn't surprise me when she orgasmed again.

   "Very nice, Denise.  You like a cock up your dark hole, don't you?"

   "Yes, Mr.  Chase," she whispered.

   "You have a nice, tight little asshole.  I'm sure I'll use it many
times."

   "I'm sure you will," she replied.  She had a crooked, little smile.

   He popped out of her and shoved her to her knees.  She sucked him until
he exploded, covering her face in cum.  He collapsed onto the couch. 
Denise lay exhausted on the floor, sweaty and cum covered.  Mr.  Chase
pushed the button and Virginia appeared.  She ignored Denise.

   "Virginia, send Barton in, please."

   "Yes, Mr.  Chase," she answered.  There was a twinkle in her eye.  In a
moment, a big man who looked like a bodyguard entered.

   "Yes, Mr.  Chase," he said, trying not to look at Denise.

   "Barton, Denise is no longer my executive assistant.  She's my playtoy.
Would you like to take her for a ride?"

   The big man licked his lips.  "Yes, sir, Mr.  Chase," he said eagerly.

   "Do it right here.  I want to watch."

   Denise was looking at Mr.  Chase.  Her eyes showed she realized for the
first time exactly what was expected of her.  Then they showed she liked
it. The big man dropped his trousers and fell between her legs.  Denise
guided him into her.  He fucked her hard; she fucked back.  When he was
through, he thanked Mr.  Chase and didn't speak to her.  She sat up and
looked at her boss.  She was smiling.

   "Not bad, Denise, but you can do better."

   "I'd just been well fucked by you and I'm new at this.  Give me a little
time," she said with grin.

   "You'll do fine, Denise," he said with a laugh.  "Virginia'll get you a
suite at the hotel until we lease a townhouse.  After you dress, you can
pick out your car."

   "Thank you," she replied.  As she dressed, she asked, "Do I get a
written agreement, Mr.  Chase?"

   "No," he answered.  "You'll have to trust me."

   When she turned to walk away, he called her name.  She stopped and
looked back over her shoulder at him.

   "What are you, Denise?" he asked in a steely, low, tone.

   "I'm your whore," she replied.  She looked proud and pleased.

   "Do you like being my whore?"

   "Am I going to get fucked a lot?"

   "Yes, you are."

   "Then, yes, I like it, Mr.  Chase."

   The film ended as Denise left his office.

   I couldn't believe what I'd seen, but my cock was rock hard.  Virginia
saw it and smiled at me.

   "Mr.  Chase said to tell you he enjoyed meeting you and good luck in the
future.  He arranged to have a woman here at eight.  He thought it might
take the edge off.  She was to be a surprise gift, but I didn't want you to
take matters in hand," she said, suppressing a laugh.

   "Tell him thanks for everything," I replied sincerely.

   She stood and hugged me.  "A lot of women want a loving, faithful man
they can trust.  I turned Mr.  Chase down for a man like that - a man like
you.  You'll find the right woman.  Trust me on that." She kissed my cheek
and let herself out.

   I was giddy.  Seeing Denise's performances cleft whatever love was left
and energized me for life without her.  Some day I'd marry and have
children, but, for now, I wanted to play around, enjoying myself and
sampling what the world had to offer.

   The door bell rang at eight, not a minute too soon.  I wanted to fuck so
badly my cock was killing me.

   When I opened the door, she was standing there, looking beautiful and
sexy.  Her back was straight, her breasts high and firm, legs and ass
displayed in a micro skirt and very high heels.  She reddened when I
grinned at her.  She had the sexual arrogance of a woman who knows she is
what men want and who likes the sex as much as they do.

   "Mr.  Chase sent me.  May I come in?"

   "Do come in, Denise."



   The End

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   E-mail address: ezriter@hotmail.com