Eugene Edwards - Overeager secretary

I didn't even know when Harlin had really finished because the next thing I knew I was lying there all cool, damp with sweat and nearly unconscious, while the room was filled with excited fuckers. It took a few minutes for me to get my wits about me and when I did I had to cuss. If I could have held off my orgasm a little longer I could have gotten a whole bunch of fucking. People were changing off in the middle of their strokes, and some of them were heaped in a pile at the middle of the room. Everybody was having a good gang-bang and I had orgasmed myself right out of it. But not Jenny. I could see her face, all flushed, as she was buried beneath a pile of naked bodies. She was getting fucked and sucked and reamed and creamed all at the same time, and from the frantic look in her eyes, she was coming loose at the seams. I could see naked cunts with fingers in them, dangling balls thumping against naked buttocks, hard cocks spurting jizz in the air, and pink-tipped titties with teeth around the nipples. It was a glorious sight and even if I did just get over a terrible orgasm I couldn't help getting all hot and bothered again from watching. I guess I sort of gave a wail as I dived into the middle of that squirming mass of glorious flesh.

Somebody was trying to stick a tit in my cunt. I could see the breast and I could feel the tight little nipple massage my clitoris, while somebody had something in my rectum. Either it was a small cock or somebody's finger, but that didn't matter. And I wasn't about to look and see. Right then I had a cock in my mouth and a tit in my hand, as I tried to pound my way down to the bottom of the stack. I couldn't really orgasm again right then but that didn't matter either. Some women can never get an orgasm, and that night I envied them. Without orgasming to end a fuck, a woman could go forever getting screwed!

So we spent the night with Harlin and his guests, and we fucked right on through to Saturday night. I was so sore when we got through that I could hardly walk, and we took another cab home. Not to impress anybody, but because I couldn't stand on the subway. I needed sleep and rest and a hot bath.

It's funny how a girl can have sex and believe she is a woman just because her cherry's gone. And yet there is so much involved with sexual activity that we never stop learning, we never cease to expand our horizons. I really feel sorry for people who get one piece of ass, from one person, and that's the end of it. No matter if they screw each other for a century. There's nothing new involved, it becomes a habit, and the mystery of strange sex is lost. Maybe that's why there has always been so much cheating in marriage, and maybe that's why women watch soap operas all the time. A woman needs variety just as much as a man does. I've heard it all from my girl friends, and from their friends.

It's so much nicer to indulge the sex urge! To have a fresh cock when you need it, or to listen when a man says, "thanks a million," after you made his day beautiful.

I especially remember Dayton Clark. He lives in the same apartment building as me and he was always very friendly. I knew he needed a strange piece of ass, but I let him use his own initiative. He was only married a year or so and had a nice wife, they were happy and in love. But the newness had worn off and Dayton needed a strange piece of ass.

I accommodated him one Saturday morning.

He came over to borrow some sugar, but I knew what he really wanted.

"Where's your wife?" I asked while I was filling his cup.

"She's doing the dishes."

His face, was tight as he stared at me. I was wearing one of my shortie nightgowns and I know he could see my white panties just below the gown.

He almost dropped the sugar.

"You sure are pretty, Martha!"

The words were strained, too loud, and his hard-on could be seen right through his trousers.

"Is there anything else you need, Dayton?"

He was from the old school of morals so he damn near choked with the need to express himself. He just couldn't come right out and ask for a fuck.

I took off my panties, and lifted my gown.

"Oh, migawd!"

The sugar went crashing to the floor and his eyes were glued to my cunt. He got his cock caught in his zipper in the frantic action to get it open, and he fucked me standing up in the kitchen. His need was so great that he lifted me right off the floor on the end of his cock, then jerk-fucked me all over the room. I clung to his neck like a leech while he jizzed clear up inside of me. It was a marvelous little screw, sudden and violent, and he really satisfied me. I fixed him up good, too, because he tried to get me every day after that. Only his wife was suspicious about all that sugar he came to borrow and I didn't need that kind of trouble, so I cut him short. Still it brought a warmth to our floor, the overtones of stolen beauty. And I think it made a better fucker out of Dayton because his wife went singing around the place for two weeks.

I mentioned some of these things to Doreen and she agreed with me.

"Everybody needs a jolt in their sex life once in awhile, Martha. It's just a damn shame that so many people think love and sex are the same thing. They're as different as eating and sleeping."

"I'm glad I have you to talk to, Doreen. Sometimes I think I'm a weirdo, or maybe I'm too dumb to know how other people think."

"Naw, you're okay. Sex makes the world go around. Even those guys who are married to beautiful movie stars, even they fuck around with starlets. Don't matter how pretty a girl is, how much a guy loves her, he still wants a strange pussy."

"And it's the same with women, right?"

"You bet your fucking boots that's right! In fact it's even worse with a woman. A guy can get his kicks with sports or making wars or some other Goddam activity. While a female's world revolves around her cunt. If she tries to forget it, nature reminds her every twenty-eight days."

Doreen always made me feel better when I talked with her because she had really been around. She had seen it all, done it all, and she knew personalities that I could only imagine. She reminded me that even here in the office, half the time was spent with innuendoes or giggles about sex. A word here, a glance there, a gesture. It happened incessantly and gave us all, male and female alike, a sense of well-being, a sense of being alive.

So I felt good about being a sexpot, someone who really enjoyed screwing. I got to thinking there was only one thing to stop it. One thing to destroy all this fun and games.

Love.

I had seen it around the office so often it scared me. A girl or a guy would be a real swinger, happy-go-lucky and filled with joy. They fell in love. And two months later they walked around with their chin on the floor and hardly ever found reason to laugh again.

I swore to keep clear of that trap.

And the best way to do that was to get all the screwing I could. After all, that thing called love was an extension of the hots for somebody.

Sometimes I had to work at getting laid, and sometimes it came unexpectedly. Like the time Harlin called me up to the board room. He needed a nooner and he liked me, so he called down for me to bring up some papers.

We got it on right on that huge mahogany desk, the one where they made important decisions. And I had to smile when I thought that lots of people would be influenced by the decisions that I helped to shape. Surely Harlin would be in a better mood for the next meeting!

Yet, the most exciting fuck we ever had at the office was around Thanksgiving and everybody was in good spirits. We were having a turkey after work to celebrate, with all the trimmings, and most of us had a few highballs to get things rolling. I ate too much as usual so I couldn't get high very easily but some of the girls got drunk and had to leave early. Doreen took one of the tipsy girls into the lunchroom and sucked her cunt before she sent her home, and I saw one of the salesmen take Audrey into an office. But I had my eyes set on Errol Glynn. He was such a handsome bastard it was unreal and since all the girls wanted in his pants I didn't figure to have much chance. But I got him.