David Crane - Hot neighborly wife

Cathy had batted her big blue eyes and smiled confidently across his polished desk, as if sure she had the position.

"You hardly seem well qualified," he'd said.

She breathed in. Out came those tits. Carl's eyes bulged. Her tits were colossal.

"I'm sure I can make myself useful," she said.

"Hummm," said Carl.

He gave her the job.

It meant that he had to do a lot of work that a skilled secretary would have handled, but he figured it was worth the extra effort, just to have Cathy around to look at.

That was all he did – just look. For two days.

On the third day, she came into his private office, looking unhappy. Carl looked up from his desk. Her tits loomed out at him.

"Mister Tremayne," she said, "I feel so useless!"

He tried to think of some job he could assign her that she couldn't fuck up too much.

But she went on. "I've been working here for three whole days now, and you haven't given me dictation even once."

He wanted to soothe her. He hated to see her so unhappy. He decided to dictate a letter which she could subsequently type – and then he could tear up and throw away.

"Do you have your pad?" he asked. "Urn-hum," she said, brightening and looking cheerful now.

And then, to his amazement, she came around the desk and plopped her luscious ass into his lap.

"This is the way it's done, right," she said.

"Well – em – yes, certainly," he agreed.

His cock had started to swell immediately, as her juicy ass squirmed around in his lap. He could not think of a single word to dictate to her. All of his blood had rushed into his prick and his brain was starved for oxygen. His mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, but no words came forth. Cathy didn't seem to notice. In fact, she didn't. She had not the faintest idea that dictation involved taking notes – she thought the word meant sitting on the boss' dick.

She squirmed some more and his cock began to hammer.

"Oh, this is such a nice job," she said.

She wriggled some more. The hem of her skirt drew halfway up her smooth thighs. She crossed her legs. The skirt went higher.

Carl was sweating and blushing, afraid that she would realize what the heaving lump under her ass was.

But she already knew that.

"Oh, you have such a nice big hard-on, Mister Tremayne! It must be just awful for a girl to work for a boss who has a teeny-weenie little cock!"

She smiled and snuggled. She batted her eyes and licked her lips. His prick got bigger and bigger, threatening to dislodge her from his lap, prying like a lever at her pelvis.

"I do so love big cocks," she said.

Carl began to realize that his secretary might be gifted in ways that did not involve paperwork… that those fingers, clumsy on a keyboard, might be skilled when wrapped around a cock… that although she could not file, she might allow him to file his prick in her hairy cabinet… that her talents might be more in the way of dick-tation.

"Miss Jenson?"

"Yes, boss?"

"Would you object if I were to fuck you?"

The girl looked surprised.

"Well, of course not," she said. "Isn't that what secretaries are for?"

Carl realized, then, that Cathy had made a mistake in seeking employment. She knew nothing about secretarial work except what she had seen in the movies and on television. It was, he had to admit, an understandable assumption.

"That, my dear, is precisely what a secretary is for," he told her.

Then he fucked her to a frazzle.

And Cathy had been most efficient and was delighted to find that the work suited her and that she would no longer have to feel useless around the office.

Carl had been fucking Cathy two or three times a week, since that initial encounter, and he was very, very glad that he had such a talented secretary today, since he had not fucked his wife and was in desperate need of having his balls emptied. His cock had got hard as a bone while he was driving to the office. He'd had to carry his briefcase in front of his crotch as he walked in and took the elevator up. But, once in his office, he put the briefcase down and Cathy, chewing gum loudly and reading a True Confessions magazine, gave his cock-bulge a look and a big smile.

She was wearing a red dress, cut low enough to show her cleavage and high enough so that, with her legs crossed, any interested party could get a look at her cunt. She never wore a bra and seldom wore panties. She was, Carl noticed, not wearing panties today.

"Will you come into my private office, please, Miss Jenson?" he asked, as he passed through, prick first.

She jumped up and took up her dictation pad.

She always brought that with her, and a pencil, although not one word had ever been written down. She seemed to think the pad and pencil had something to do with the job.

Carl did not correct her. He knew that she liked to think of herself as a proper secretary. She came in behind him and closed the door. He was adjusting the blinds, wanting enough light to see what he was doing, in all the juicy details, but not enough to be glaring. He liked soft light to complement soft flesh. When he turned from the window, Cathy had already begun to remove her clothing.

She drew her red dress over her head. Her high, thrusting tits needed no support. Naked, they were as firm as inflated balloons and the stiff nipples stood out erotically. Her pussy mound was a tangled mass of gold locks, curly and thick.

He gazed at her in appreciation. He wondered how many boyfriends she had, how many men were fucking her after work. He felt almost jealous at the thought. He moved toward her, the huge lump of his cock-bulge pressing his pants out.

Cathy went to meet him, still dutifully clutching the pad and pencil which had never once been used.

Still fully clothed, himself – in suit and tie – Carl took her into his arms and felt her hot, smooth, naked flesh quiver at his touch. Her belly pressed against him and his raging cock indented an elongated outline into her loins.

Leaning down, Carl took her big nipple into his lips and sucked on it. His tongue swept across the tip and coiled around the swollen nugget, causing Cathy to purr like a cat. He switched over and sucked the other nipple and then straightened up, smiling.

Cathy dropped her pad and pencil and opened his pants. She wrapped her hand around his rampant prick.

"Ooooh," she sighed, as the huge slab of cock meat expanded mightily in her hand.

Carl smiled happily and thrust his hips toward her.

She skimmed her hand up and down on his prick a few times, causing the cock knob to flare even more. She could feel the thick vein pulsing against her palm and the crimson prick knob seemed ready to glow.

Cathy's lush thighs opened slightly, parting involuntarily.

Looking down, Carl could see the top of her cunt slit, a moist pink gash that spilt her golden bush. Her clit stood out rigidly, beginning to tingle.

"Want me to undress you, boss?" Cathy asked.

"No, that won't be necessary – there won't be time to undress me," Carl said quickly.

Cathy could see and feel that that was true. The head of his cock expanded mightily in her fist. The cleft was parted and already a glistening drop of pre-cum had oozed out from the cum slit and was trickling down the cock shaft.

Taking her by the shoulders, he guided her backwards until her ass bumped against the big executive desk and slid onto the surface, her pert ass braced on the edge.

Cathy placed her hands on the desk behind her and arched her back; her belly thrust out and her smooth thighs parted. Her cunt was flooded and unfurled, the pussy lips peeled back, revealing the creamy fuck slot, flecked with cunt juice.

Carl advanced on her, his prick standing out before him as he guided his cock head until it was on a line for her pussy.