Karim al-Zib - Her week at mountain mansion

Ron had become obsessed with her, following her at a distance around the estate, unseen again when Herb had fucked her in the gazebo, seemingly uncaring that anyone could see them. But by then the affair between the boss and the secretary was known to everyone in the house. It was as if Herb wanted everyone to know that he had himself another girl, even younger and more beautiful than Diane, who had embarrassed him before, who loved the feel of the fucking he gave her and was his alone.

It was because his ego had suffered a terrible blow when Diane had taken up with his colleague. Ron happened to know that revenge was being planned against her for that faut pas, something that would horrify Diane if she heard about it. Herb had planned it for the last day, on Sunday, when they always had a celebration for members of that exclusive party. For special entertainment Herb had booked Vanessa Slade and her trained German Shepherd Diablo, and Diane was going to be doing a tandem act with the dog. Cleophas didn't know about it yet, but he would have to go along when the time came. Ron had no intention of telling anyone; it was none of his business and it was not his place to try to upset the boss' plans.

But that was in the future. The past was much more vivid in Ron's imagination. Herb had gone on using Cherie's increasingly willing and responsive body. Last night after dinner he had taken her into the library, just off the conference room, after the day's business had ended. Ron had passed by the half-open door by chance and seen Cleophas and Diane peeking through the aperture. Ron had joined them out of curiosity and they had gestured him to silence.

Again Ron had found himself burning with frustration and jealousy as he had seen what was going on. Their clothes were strewn over the floor and Herb was sitting on the couch, feasting on her pink-nippled tits while the girl kneeled, straddling his thighs, her plump, round asscheeks bouncing up and down, his great cock vanishing between them. Her head was thrown back, her breath rasping in her throat as her blonde hair flowed over her shoulders and down her back like melted gold. With every downward plunge of her lovely bottom, the perfect white globes rippled, and each time they rose the fat cock emerged from within her and drew out pink ridges of inner cunt flesh, while her innocently-exposed, pinkish asshole winked from between her parted buttocks at the three who were watching. It was a scene of supreme lewdness as far as Cherie was concerned, taken from her usual passive role and put into an active position. Herb was doing his best to convert her into a whore and he appeared to be doing a damn good job of it.

So Ron was very preoccupied when he left the meeting at the noon break on Tuesday. He had watched her all that morning, unable to keep his thoughts on the work. Cherie's eyes were usually on Herb, not watching Ron as much as she had the first two days, except once when he had caught her gazing at him and she had averted her eyes when he saw her. It was as if she were still interested in him but did not dare pursue that interest, or that she now found herself too busy or too contented or too sexually enthralled to divide her time.

So for Ron it was completely unforeseen when, as he was pacing in frustrated nervousness up the hall a quarter of an hour after they had broken for lunch he saw Cherie turn into the utility room, for some reason or purpose. Ron stopped by the door, shaking and wondering what he should, or could do. And then he steeled himself and turned in.

Closing the door part-way, he saw her searching on the shelves for something.

"Need something?" he asked quietly.

Cherie turned, and her cheeks reddened and her breathing quickened. She stammered a moment, then said, "I'm looking for a new steno book. I've gone through mine already."

The girl herself was flustered at the sight of the man she thought was the handsomest she had ever met. Ron had still not stopped appearing to her as she slept, and last night he had made love to her in her dreams, but that was all private to her and secret. No one, especially not Herb, must ever know how she felt about the younger man. After all the intimate hours they had spent together in the last three days, Herb would be extremely offended to know that Cherie could not get her mind off Ron.

But seeing him now, here in this room where she had seen Vic and Sue doing it Saturday afternoon, alone, had set her heart into a racing tempo. Sex had taken place in this room, and now here she was face to face with the man of her dreams. Her breasts heaved and she felt herself trembling like a frightened doe.

Ron saw the heaving of those massive and shapely tits and was drawn irresistibly forward to her.

"I think they're up here," he said, reaching up and encircling her waist as he pulled a steno book off the top of the stack on one of the upper shelves. "Here you go."

Taking it from him, she said, "Thank you. I had to get ready for the two o'clock session." She smiled up at him, mindful that his arm was still around her waist and the feeling of it made her weak. She seemed to sag against him.

Ron gave the slightest pull and she fell against his chest. Both of his arms encircled her and he pulled her again, harder, and her head fell back, her mouth open to feed her needing lungs. Ron kissed that cherry-lipped mouth, his tongue going into it and finding her own probing and wet, her perfect teeth digging at his lips. Her breasts throbbed against him and one of his hands dropped down to her ass to press her loins hard against him. Cherie caught her breath at the more intimate touch and her arms went around his neck.

"Oh, Ron, oh, Ron," she chanted, kissing the side of his neck. "Oh, Ron, please stop, you've got to stop."

But Ron didn't stop. He blew in her ear and brought one hand up to cup one of her superb, large breasts. He felt the nipple grow and slipped his hand inside her gown's top to touch the bare skin of that lovely mound. Cherie was fairly panting with excitement that she tried to, but could not, suppress. He could feel her hips pushing against him in short, hard movements and his fingers reached down and found the hem of her dress, drawing it up in back until it bunched over his wrist and his hand plunged down the back of her panties.

All the while, Cherie was panting and groaning, "Oh, no, oh, no, Ron. Herb will kill me. He'll kill me." Yes, she was terrified that something would happen here that would spoil her relationship with Herb, her boss and her only lover. She certainly didn't want to be disloyal to the older man, did not want to ever be that kind of a girl. One man at a time was enough. She supposed she must be in love with Herb – how else could she explain the way he made her feel in bed? – but she was still so attracted to Ron and excited by him that she knew she couldn't trust herself.

Ron had her dress unbuttoned now and one of her crimson nipples lay hard, elongated and tingling against his lapping tongue and sucking lips. His other hand was sliding between her bottom cheeks, the middle finger stabbing and tickling at her moist, clenched asshole and then moving down to the slit of her vagina from behind. He found that hair-rimmed hole already wet with long pent-up sexual arousal as his middle finger slid into her to the second knuckle. He had had no idea that he had been in her thoughts for so long, that her every dream had been of him.

"Aaah," she groaned. "Oh, Ron, we can't do this. Herb will kill me."

Ron groaned, knowing he should stop this lest the young girl run afoul of her powerful, older lover, yet he could no more stop himself than change the tides. With some difficulty, he slid two fingers up into her slippery cunt and felt her squeeze him with those phenomenal muscles. Damn, she was tight! His cock ached to feel the grip of that girlish tightness and he knew he couldn't stop himself until he had experienced that ecstasy. He began frigging her gently with his two fingers thrusting up under her from behind. Her breath came in panting gasps in his ear.