Karim al-Zib - Her week at mountain mansion

In her room, she undressed and stood before the mirror, intending to shower and nap a bit before the afternoon marathon of business. She surveyed herself before the full-length mirror. Her body was superb, though a bit plump lately, she now saw. Must be those pastries I've been eating at the office, she thought. She was built a couple of inches taller than average with long legs and flaring hips. Her breasts were large, very large, and round with pink nipples riding on wide, rosy aureolae, very firm without a hint of sag. Now she thought they appeared larger than usual, because of the few extra pounds she had put on, and she noticed her bottom had swelled a bit as well for the same reason. Turning sideways, she looked at her plump, heart-shaped derriere with the tender dimples, one surmounting each creamy white buttock at the base of her spine. Yes, she would definitely have to cut back on the junk food before her clothes started getting too tight.

Cherie turned back to the mirror and her eyes dropped to that sacred honey-blond bush nestled in the junction of her long, slender thighs.

Ron Wolter let himself into the dark room that he knew was empty where he could watch Cherie. It was the window just perpendicular to and just a few feet away from hers. As long as he left the light out and made no sound, she would not know he was there. Last night he had watched her for a long time and he watched her now with growing affection.

Ron was rapidly falling in love with the sweet-faced, beautiful young virgin, and he was sure she felt a strong attraction to him as well. Normally he would have made a move to get to know her better, but he was a bit uncertain as to her attachments and inclinations. He had seen her arrive with Herb Melville, and though that could possibly mean absolutely nothing – Herb did not always fuck his secretaries on these week-long stays in the mountains – there was a chance that the boss had reserved her for himself, and Ron was reluctant to tread on the powerful man's toes. Not that Ron was afraid of losing his job over her; that was no problem, since Melville had told them all long ago that any unmarried secretary was fair game for any of the men at any time both in the office and on the mountain junkets. No, Ron was not afraid for himself. He was afraid of what might happen to the girl if she overstepped any lines Melville had drawn around her. It was the girl who could lose her job. Or perhaps worse. Melville usually had no mercy with women who displeased him or acted faithlessly, and all the blame for infidelity fell on the women themselves, never on the men. What Wolter was not certain of was whether she was here as Melville's sex toy or just as secretary. Perhaps she was both, but the truth had to be known before Ron could do anything more than just smile at her across the conference table.

Ron stopped and caught his breath. She was standing stark naked in front of the mirror looking at her gorgeous body, posing in a way that she would do only if she thought that no one was watching. Her tits! Her ass! Her legs! So perfect. And the soft, downy hair of her pussy. She was rubbing it now, just as she had last night when Diane and Cleophas were fucking downstairs by the pool.

Cherie had kneeled over the back of the love seat and fingered her pussy while the two horny exhibitionists did something Ron had never seen occur at this house before. There in plain sight they had done it and the young man could think of no reason they might breach house etiquette in that way unless Melville himself had told them it was all right. No, not all right. Unless, maybe, Melville had told them to do it for some reason. But why, unless for the entertainment of those whose windows gave onto the pool area? It had sure excited young Cherie the night before.

Ron watched her stroking her body, watched the dew of arousal gather in the fine tendrils of her pussy hair, there at the pink line that marked her untouched vagina. It was obviously a naturally very wet pussy that peeped out between the puffy and sparsely-furred lips. He watched her as she closed her eyes and and slid a trembling middle finger into the slit. Wolter felt sorry for her, here in the mountains amid all this power and wealth, virginal yet wanting, excited yet afraid. Diane's and Cleophas' exhibition last night had stirred her in a way she had probably never been stirred before.

He saw Cherie give her shoulders a shake and the perfect grapefruits of her huge breasts jiggled with the motion as she drew her naughty finger from her needing, pink cunt. She gave out with a sigh that was more of a sob and turned and flopped down on the bed. From the stand at the side she took a large volume of the plays of Shakespeare and, propping herself up on her elbow, began to read. Wolter knew something of her history. She had passed up a full scholarship at a good university to go straight to work to take care of her sick mother. He knew she had graduated top of her high school class and showed great potential for success as a medical student, if she ever got there. But her mother was constantly hovering on the verge of death and the doctor bills had to be paid, which a scholarship would not do.

So the beautiful, intelligent, unselfish – add to that naive – young beauty had had to go to work. And again she had shown her worth. Her typing was flawless, the shorthand fluent, her computer skills beyond those of the other girls in the pool. She was not vain, nor did she need to be. No rouge was needed on cheeks that retained the rosy flush of health and her pink lips would have been defiled with red lipstick if she had ever used it.

Ron Wolter watched her until she fell asleep on her side by the big book. Thirty minutes later her alarm clock woke her and she dressed again to go down for the afternoon's work.

After work the business group congregated in the dining room to eat and it was nearly nine by the time the dinner party began to break up. Herb Melville, big and dignified with his thinning hair and expensive suit, looked around at his minions and smiled.

"We've done very well today, gentlemen, and ladies," he said, and reached to his left to gave Cherie's hand a warm squeeze where it rested on the table. The girl smiled and closed her eyes with pleasure at the attention of such a powerful and, yes, an admirable and likeable man. She felt happy and warm that she had pleased him, that he noticed her, perhaps as a woman, beyond the requirements of his business and her function in it. Her eyes met his and she found them warm and affectionate and his hand stayed a while longer on hers.

Ron Wolter saw this gesture as the first sign of interest the head of the corporation had shown in Cherie, and the younger man bit back his jealousy. It appeared that Melville had finally singled her out for himself, and Ron grit his teeth at the thought of Cherie lying on her back with the big, paunchy man fucking and heaving between her perfect, white thighs. Grit his teeth and shook off the thought. Perhaps it would not happen. Perhaps Melville would not make the move. Perhaps the girl would not acquiesce, would resist as she had been taught all her life to do. Her ideals were cause for wonderment around the office and Ron had heard from the good-time girls that worked there that she was a confirmed virgin. So she would probably resist. Well, maybe. But Ron knew such a decision would be hard for the girl, for she needed the job and showed no little fascination with the company she was keeping this week.

As they all departed for their rooms, Ron thought Melville's hand lingered a trifle too long on Cherie's waist as the boss escorted her out of the dining room. Ron looked away and saw Sue Midori sitting alone at the table. He went over to talk to her.

"How's things, Sue?" Ron asked. "You look unhappy."