Robert Vickers: Easy office girl

"Please, no, I… I need it! All the way in, cram it all the way up! Rip me apart all the way to the chin!"

"Babe, you're so damn tight, I feel like I'm getting burned off at the roots. But I'll give it to you!"

"Yesss, oh, aieeeee!"

She came again.

Never had she imagined sex could be like this. He was bringing her off time after time.

And he was barely able to control his wildly churning balls every time her cunt clamped fervently down around his cock. He drilled into an even tighter channel while the orgasm seized her in its velvet grip. The heat seemed so intense he was sure it would burn his cock off.

Then it no longer mattered to him. All that mattered was wantonly creaming the girl's cunt walls with his cum. He felt the heat touch the very tip of his cock. The wave worked its way inexorably back until it came to his balls.

The extra heat pushed him over the brink. His balls exploded in a fiery torrent of jism. He whitewashed the girl's cunt with his cum. Bucking, dancing spurting, he left his cock sunk all the way up between her hot pink puny lips.

Those lips seemed to obscenely kiss his cock, milking it like a mouth. Every single drop of his cum was sucked from his body. By the time he was limp and exhausted, his balls were completely drained of their precious fluid.

"Damn, Cheryl, but you got the tightest cunt I ever fucked!"

She simply lay back on the rug and shivered. It was suddenly cold in the room. A sheen of sweat covered her body. The girl hadn't realized that making love could be this good.

It added a brand-new dimension to what she had to do. Using her body to get ahead might not be such a drag after all. She could even enjoy the power she had over Roger.

"You mentioned another job, Roger," she gently reminded.

"Huh? Another job? I…"

"I mean, weather girl is so… demeaning. And I'm sure Dick and Jim say all those things about me because of it being such a Mickey Mouse job. Anyone could do it. They wouldn't dare say anything about me – not like they do – if I were a reporter."

"A reporter? Hell, Cheryl, that's out of the question. Shit, there's all sorts of others in line for…"

She had started putting on her clothes. She tossed the ripped panties to Roger, saying, "Here's something for your collection, rapist."

"Rapist? Now, just a Goddamn minute. You asked for that. You were the one who wanted this fucking job and…"

"And nowhere does it say anything about you ripping my clothes off and fucking the weather girl."

"Weather girl," he dully repeated. He dragged on his pants and sat down at his desk. He pawed through a manila folder and scratched something into a ledger. Looking up, he said, "I don't suppose it would be rape if what happened was done to a reporter."

Cheryl smiled sweetly, her lush, sensuous lips curling up in a smile so naive and innocent that Roger knew no one would ever believe him if she did try to press rape charges. He couldn't get off the hook. With his jism in her cunt, there wasn't a court in the country that wouldn't give him life.

"Start to work as a reporter right away. See Dave about your assignments. He's the one who assigns everything."

"Thanks, Roger. You're sweet." She bent over and kissed him chastely on the check, then left.

She heard him snarl, "Shit!" and slam the ledger book shut as she left.

Cheryl was happy. She was on her way up.

Cheryl hurried out of Roger's office. She would have to strike while she was hot. Finding Dave and getting a good assignment from him was about all she could think about. Since Roger had hired her as a reporter, she didn't really have to think too much about him any more. She'd just about bypassed him by being assigned to Dave.

Dave was now her boss. And Dave would now get the full benefit of her attentions.

Being a reporter depended on a lot of things. One of them was which assignments she could get. A bunch of dipshit little things and no one would ever notice her. She'd be just another face in the pack. A few choice ones and everyone in the city would recognize her.

She'd be famous.

And all if she could convince Dave to trust her with a few of the really good assignments. She figured that wouldn't be too hard. Cheryl had seen the way he eyed her when she'd come to work that first day. He hadn't said a word. He was too cool for that. But he'd noticed her and he was definitely attracted to her.

She could use that just as she had used Roger's lust for her. It was so easy now that she calmly thought it over. Cheryl wandered how the others in the station got their positions – or rather, what positions they had to get into to get their jobs?

Her reverie was broken by voices. "Damn fine-looking ass, don't you say so, Jim?"

"Sure, Dick, but the tits, now that's her good point. I figure she must be a good cocksucker, too. Look at the way those lips seem to beg for a man's cock."

"Like yours, I assume?"

"Sure, man, sure!"

Cheryl coldly said, "I doubt if either of you has anything of interest for me. I don't fool around with boys."

"Oh, hey, the little vixen has finally shown some fire."

"I may be a little vixen but you two are just little – in more than one place, I'm sure."

Jim laughed, but Dick turned red. Cheryl looked directly at Dick as she continued, "Don't let it worry you, Richard. No one is perfect. And I hear they're doing great things with artificial organs. You might try for a transplant. From someone well-hung."

"You bitch!"

"Hey, Dick, take it easy. Just because she'd finally showing some spunk is no reason to fly off the handle."

"I'll show her my spunk! I'll cream all over her Goddamn face, then make her lick it off!"

"My, my, boys, I would so love to carry on this little talk with you, but I've got to see Dave."

Jim asked, curious, "Why Dave? He's…" And then it hit the cameraman. Cheryl had been the producer's office for quite a while. And she had come out cocky and in command of the situation. That could mean only one thing in a place like this.

He and Dick were fooling around with the producer's private property. And if they wanted to keep their jobs very long, they'd better clam up – quick.

"Uh, look, Cheryl," said Jim, "you know we were only kidding. It was all in good fun, you know." He smiled wanly.

"Right. All in good, clean fun." She started to walk off when she heard a muffled cry from Dick. He'd started to say something only to get Jim's elbow in his stomach. She smiled and kept walking. There wouldn't be any more trouble out of those two.

Especially after she worked her way into Dave's good graces. He didn't have the administrative power that Roger had, but he was still a guy to be reckoned with. What he said usually went. He was responsible for the news that actually made the prime-time newscast. And that made him the one responsible for their ratings.

Good news, good ratings – and Dave was happy. Sloppy news, rotten ratings – and Dave replaced people.

She found the head newscaster in the back room, his feet propped up on a box. She caught just a little of his conversation with Diane, another reporter.

"… so this interview with the mayor might crack the graft thing wide open," Diane said, "Want me to handle it?"

"Dammit, not that!" he said, and in a lower voice, "Not here, at any rate."

When Cheryl came into the room, she saw Diane sitting next to Dave, her hand lingering near his crotch. There was no doubt what the other woman had been about to do.

That was the way the game was played. Cheryl was going to have to do more for Dave than Diane possibly could. That would get her the assignments she wanted.

It seemed so simple now that she had it figured out.

"Hi, Dave. Diane. I sort of got promoted up to reporter. Roger sent me over for a little briefing on what you wanted, then an assignment to get me started."