Roy Manning - Secretary in heat

"I paid for this bed," Nancy said. "And I paid for those damn dancing lessons."

"I'll give you about five seconds to get the hell out of here." Eric raised his voice to her for the first time.

"You can't throw me away like an old used condom," she whimpered.

"I think I better leave," Janet said quietly and walked to wards her clothes.

"Don't go, Janet," Eric said. "This sow's the one's going."

"Don't call me that!"

Eric grabbed her roughly and pulled her up from the bed. "Out," he yelled. "Out!"

"It's my bed!" she whimpered. "Everything in here belongs to me. I'm not leaving."

He hit her hard across the side of the face. She fell back onto the bed.

"Eric!" Janet shouted. "Goddamn it! Leave her alone."

"You're not leaving," Eric said, shaking with the effort to control hit rage. "She is the slob, the sow. Look at her. She's disgusting."

Janet got dressed as quickly as she could. "See darling, she's leaving," Nancy said plaintively. "Please darling, she's leaving. Come to bed with me, darling. Please, darling."

"Don't leave," Eric said to Janet. "When she gets over her crying jag, I'll get her out of here."

"I want to go," Janet said quietly, not looking at him.

"Ill walk you to a cab stand," Eric offered.

"Stay with her," Janet said.

So that's what can happen sometime, Janet thought, walking through the night streets, feeling a little silly now. When you make a fool of yourself over a man. When you let yourself get dumpy and middle-aged and foolish. It could happen to any woman who was not quite clever enough, not quite tough enough.

But not to me, she thought, walking faster and faster. Not to me.

Monday morning the girls in the typing pool were congratulating Amy. She had just gotten a great assuagement. She was going on tour for one of the companies Carpenter and Adams represented – demonstrating cosmetics in department stores all own the country.

"I hear you and Jimmy Marks finally hit it off together," Amy said to Janet at coffee break.

"What do you mean, finally?" Janet answered with an amused grin. "I've been here just one week. I call that fast work."

"Don't let any moss grow under your feet," Amy said. "I owe Jimmy for this assignment. He introduced me to the right person, the client in charge of sales."

"Where'd you meet? In bed?"

"So what's wrong with that? It's all a game, honey. Advertising is based on sex, isn't it?"

Janet laughed. "Sounds like something Jimmy Marks might say."

"Exactly," Amy said. "He's the one put me wise. And listen, you're a hell of a lot prettier than me. And smarter. No telling how far you can go."

Just before noon Dee McGuire came by to take her to lunch.

"I'm sorry Dee," she told him. "I have a lunch date today."

He gave her a lingering, disappointed look. "Sure," he said. "Some other time."

"I believe Linda is usually free for lunch," she said.

He gave her a slightly startled look at the suggestion that he should have lunch with Linda. "Oh, that's okay," he said. "I think I know somebody."

Janet took her purse from the bottom drawer.

She patted it affectionately. It contained the keys Jimmy Marks had slipped her earlier that morning – the street-door key and the apartment key.

She waited there. The inside of the apartment was quiet, except for the muffled sound of traffic. And she wished this were her own place.

She grinned to herself. The wall bed was carefully made up. There was a large open box on the bed with a note. WEAR THIS, the note read. The box contained a see-through black negligee.

She went into the bathroom to put it on. She could see the rosy tips of her nipples poke at the thin material, as if they were about to burst through.

She sat waiting impatiently on the couch. Maybe Anders wasn't coming. He was a married man. A very discreet married man, Jimmy had told her. Maybe he got scared and wouldn't show up.

Just then she heard the buzzer. She got up and crossed the room to push the button that would open the street door. She waited several minutes.

She heard a soft knock at the door. She put a smile on her lips before opening the door.

"Mr. Anders!" she said lightly, as if pleasantly surprised. "Come in."

He was big, beefy, middle-aged. He had thick black hair. There was a hint of jowl.

He stared at her with a stunned expression as he stepped inside. Beads of perspiration glistened on his forehead and upper lip. He was wearing a dull conservative business suit.

"God!" he whispered. He was breathing heavily.

"Mr. Anders," Janet said again, her smile widening.

She thrust her boobs farther out. He made a quick grab for them. But his touch was gentle.

"Please," he said homely. "Call me George."

"George," she said seductively.

He thumbed her pointed tits through the material of her negligee.

"Please excuse me a moment," he said politely.

And he went into the bathroom. Janet arranged herself on the bed. Sitting with her back propped up with pillows, letting the negligee flow open.

He came from the bathroom naked. She rather liked his raw-boned, beefy body. It was a comfortable body, a powerful body, a body to snuggle close to and feel protected. His cock was thick, not too long, half-hard.

He gasped when he saw her, lying atop the covers, her negligee opened, revealing breasts with tits that were stiff with excitement, revealing her cunt that had begun to oil up.

"Ehhhhh!" The sound that tore from his throat was lustful, animal-like, as he rushed towards the bed. He lifted one of her feet to his lips, kissing her toes.

"God," he groaned. "I've worshipped you ever since I saw you for the first time!"

He ran his tongue up her leg, up the inside of her thigh. He clamped his lips around her pussy mound. Janet drew in her breath.

"Oh, yes, yes," she whispered, arching her back. His tongue felt hot and juicy as he busily laved her muff, making it hotter, drawing out the juices. He pulled the pussy-lips apart, dove his tongue in deep, swirling it around her dripping cuntwalls.

His hands shot up to clutch at her titties. And his tongue moved up, up her flat belly. Then she was holding his big, raw-boned body close to her and he was suckling her breasts like a hungry baby at feeding time.

She lifted her legs, her knees bent, legs pulled well apart. Her cuntlips opened wide for his thick cock to enter. He fucked fast and lustily, sweat pouring down the sides of his face. She noted his bloated belly and the way he stuck his tongue out he fucked with all the strength in his big body. She knew he would not last long at such a fast desperate pace. She worked at trying to make it with him. But he was too quick for her. He came with a loud grunt and fell atop her. She felt crushed by his heavy, slick sweaty body. His cock softened quickly and slipped from her cunt. She whimpered with frustration. He rolled away from her.

"Oh God," he said softly.

She lay waiting for him to get up. She wanted him out of the apartment. She wanted to take a cold shower. Oh God, she wanted him to fuck her again so that she could shoot off. He was sitting on the edge of the bed. She touched his broad back with her fingertips.

"Poor Beatrix," he moaned softly. "She's a saint. Why do I do this to her?"

He turned to her. There was no hate in his eyes, only sadness, regret.

"I love her," he said. "My wife. Why do I do this to her?"

He didn't expect an answer. Janet waited for him to leave or to burst into tears.

"What if she should find out what I've done?" he said.

"She won't find out," Janet said, her voice hollow.

"But if she should? If you told her."

"Why the hell should I…" Suddenly Janet understood what was expected of her. She understood his fooling of guilt.