Simon Jillson - Real estate saleswoman

McCarter felt her swallowing, felt her throat close on the head of his loaded prick. The sensation of having his glans gently squeezed by a working throat brought a rush of hot semen to his groin. He lifted Judy's head and jammed it down on his steaming hot phallus again, hard, forcing her to take still more of his towering organ in. He felt the head of his cock ram the back of her throat. He saw the way the cords of muscle stood out in her neck as she fought his dominance of her, and her spasming gagging. Her graceful back was writhing from the humiliation of it all.

Judy thought she must be being destroyed by the ravening, huge pounding cock in her gullet. The few times she had sucked Mark's cock she had been able to control the amount of penetration. This huge man was giving her no choice, was brutally slamming her head down on his titanic phallus. And now, too, his hips were heaving at her, driving his huge blunt spike down her throat. In self-defense, Judy angled her head and neck like a sword swallower. She fought to time her breathing so she could gulp fresh oxygen when cock wasn't corking her throat. Tears were streaming down her cheeks and spit was coating her chin.

McCarter's face was twisted with a tight, triumphant grimace as he looked down on Judy's working head. The sight of her pretty face being raped by his monster organ was exquisite. He felt his ejaculation drawing closer and closer and closer and speeded the fucking of his hips.

Judy was a dazed, bewildered passenger on the final ride to McCarter's climax. She felt battered and abused as her head was whipped wildly up and down, her throat bludgeoned by the battering-ram cock slamming down it. It was all she could do to swallow the endless flood of saliva the invading cock triggered.

Bitter, gooey, thick cum slammed into her throat without warning. McCarter held her head impaled on his pumping, pulsing phallus. Wad after thick wad of semen blasted from his recoiling cock, spattered her throat, and poured toward her stomach. Judy's throat contracted and pulsed around the head of the throbbing prick in a way no vagina ever could. It felt like gallons of semen were pooling in her belly.

McCarter himself was rigid with ecstasy. The feeling of his balls unloading sperm into Judy's throat was pure pleasure. Her swallowing massaged his nerve-loaded, sensitized cock and increased the power of his cumming to the borderline between pleasure and pain. His entire body convulsed, heaving the copious shots of sperm-laden semen deep into her desperately working throat. Then his reservoirs were empty and his convulsing became dry and painful. His muscles falling limp with exhaustion, he let go of Judy's head.

Judy flopped backward, too dazed, exhausted, and oxygen-starved to actively spit out the cock that had ravished her. Her mouth tasted of cum, a clinging, cloying taste that was slowly being sluiced away by her saliva. She kept swallowing and swallowing, even though her throat was bruised and sore. Finally, she heaved herself up into the chair and sat slumped over, while she fought the urge to retch.

"Well?" she ventured finally, lifting her head, making no move to cover her bare breasts.

McCarter didn't answer. Instead, he poured a glass of water for her from the carafe on his desk.

Judy drank it gratefully, used it to wash out the last of the semen from her mouth. Then she dabbed her face with the tissues he handed her, wiped the semen and spit off her chin, the tears off her cheeks. Finally, she sat back in the chair, still bare to the waist.

"Well?" she repeated.

"Mrs. Penncroft, you are an amazing and marvelous woman," the red-haired man complimented her. "You are also quite beautiful." His eyes boldly raked her nude torso.

"Thank you."

Pulling his desk calendar over, he flipped to Friday and made an entry. "Friday at ten, at Milton Caldwell's office," he agreed.

"Thank you," Judy said courteously, twisting around to straighten out her blouse. She slipped it on and buttoned it, then stood and carefully tucked the tails into her skirt, drawing the thin material tight across her breasts. Her nipples were still hard and tense with a perverse excitement.

"What's Mrs. Shein like?" McCarter asked as Judy turned toward the door. "I've never met the woman."

"She's tall, blonde, and quite beautiful," Judy replied. "She is also uninhibited. Oh, yes. She also tastes good." Judy unlocked and opened the office door. "Good-bye, Mr. McCarter. Until Friday."

Judy sat in the bank conference room, trying to stay calm. Inside, her heart was racing. The silence in the room was so thick, the occasional rustle of paper seemed to have to force its way through.

Seated around the big table were all the principals to the sale. They were all carefully studying mortages, deeds and other papers. Judy, at this point, had nothing to do but watch them as they slowly turned pages.

Her job, she hoped, was done. She had gotten buyer and seller together, gotten them to agree on price, and helped arrange the mortgage. Theoretically, there was nothing more for her to do except collect her commission.

She wondered how Mark was doing. She had made another of those gut-wrenching drives to the hospital with him shivering and shaking beside her. By now he had been on the kidney machine for close to an hour. His agony should be subsiding.

Judy felt reasonably confident that everything was going to be all right. No one at the office had gotten wise to what she had done. All the terms of the sale had been agreed on. Even though Mark only had two more times on the hospital kidney machine, there should be no trouble. Those two treatments would give them enough time to get their own dialysis unit and get it set up.

He was going to live! It all had worked out, all the worry and sweat and filth and degradation and risks had paid off, had been worth it. The guilt Judy felt about what she had done was tempered by the knowledge that Mark was going to live.

She noticed that Milton Caldwell had finished reading his papers. The banker arranged them in a precise perfect stack in front of himself, placed a pen and a pencil exactly one inch on either side of the pile, then sat back. The expression on his pink face was unreadable.

Steven Shein was next to finish. Casually, he dropped the last one on the top of his untidy heap and rubbed his eyes. His expression was just as unreadable as Caldwell's.

Paula Shein added the papers she had been reading to her husband's stack. Her lips quirked and she glanced at Judy, and shrugged.

Andrew McCarter was frowning. Judy watched him nervously. His forehead was wrinkled slightly – three faint lines between his red eyebrows. Reaching the end of the final sale contract, he leafed back through it and reread it. Keeping the contract open to that page he set it in front of him, and weighed it down with an ashtray.

"Well," Milton Caldwell began, "everything seems to be in order. Is everything agreeable to you, Mr. Shein?"

Judy watched him fearfully. The short, powerfully built man nodded. "Yes."

"Mrs. Shein?" Caldwell asked.

"If it's all right with him, it's all right with me," she said agreeably.

"Mr. McCarter?"

The big Irishman frowned. "No."

Judy flinched at the single, short denial. Oh God, not now!

Milton Caldwell looked mildly startled. "Oh? What seems to be the problem?"

"Two problems," the red-haired man answered. "First is the date I take occupancy. That has been changed from what Mr. Shein and I originally agreed upon."

He paused and Judy's eyes went to the Sheins. Steven Shein was looking at the agreement. Paula Shein was carefully inspecting her long, elegant fingernails.

"Second problem is in the mortgage," McCarter went on. "There is a prepayment penalty in the mortgage." He looked at Caldwell.