Roy Manning - Secretary in heat

She walked any from him to break in on the little threesome with Fern at the center.

"How's everything going?" she said. "Mr. Adams, do you need a drink?"

She felt Fern stare daggers at her.

"You know," Keith said. "This party is about to break up so I don't think I'd be blamed if I took away the hostess. I wonder if you'd have that drink with me down in the casino, Miss Sullivan. I haven't had a chance to do any gambling yet."

"I'd be glad to, Mr. Adams."

Janet almost fell in love with him that night. There was humor in his eyes, authority in his manner. Quiet authority. Attractive authority.

They had the drink. Then with quiet, smooth grace he got her to bed.

He was an excellent lover – considerate and passionately demanding. His body was hard and smooth, his cock long and thick. Before he slid his cock into her, he ate her pussy, licked at the crack between her buttocks, tongued and sucked at her asshole.

He fucked her fast and hard and she barely made it with him. But he lay atop her, his cock slowly fluttering to softness. She massaged the back of his neck.

"A little lower," he whispered.

She massaged his buttocks. She eased her finger into his anus.

"Ummm," he moaned softly.

And his cock began to stiffen inside her, expanding her juicy warm cuntwalls. And he fucked her again, fast and hard again, but he lasted a deliciously long orgasmic time for both of them.

As the sunlight flooded the hotel bedroom, they simply spent the morning eating one another, sucking cock, pussy, sucking asshole. And he gave his cock to her hot cunt again, amazed he still had the strength for another fuck.

He ordered breakfast from room service – breakfast at noon.

"I don't know when I've enjoyed sex so much," he said. "Or had so much."

"I loved it too," Janet said.

"You really did, didn't you. That's why it was so good. And when we get back to San Francisco…"

"It's all right. You don't owe me anything."

"I owe you a lot," he said. "You've made me feel alive again. Do you know how long it's been since I've been to bed with a woman? My wife – I thought maybe you'd heard… her drinking problems, her two nervous breakdowns. I thought everybody at the agency knew about that."

"No," Janet said quietly. "I hadn't."

"Anyway, that's all over now. Our divorce became final last month."

He lifted her hand to his lips.

Janet's pulse raced faster.

Janet had finished with most of the Christmas shopping early. She walked with her packages towards the Downtown Center Garage when she had parked her new Pontiac.

She heard someone call her name. She paused, looked back. A man and woman had come out of the coffee shop. The woman was very obviously pregnant.

Suddenly she realized the woman was Linda and the man was Dee McGuire.

"We thought it was you when you walked by," Dee said, giving her a friendly hug.

"My God, small world," Janet said. "Could we go some place for a drink?"

"Sorry," Dee said. "We're just on our way to the downtown terminal to get a limousine to the airport."

"We're flying down to LA," Linda said excitedly. "Dee's been hired to turn his novel into a screenplay."

"They bought it from the galley proofs," Dee explained. "It won't even be published till a couple more weeks. I'll send you a copy."

"You better," Janet said. "And congratulations."

"I hear congratulations are in order for you too," he said. "I hear you're Mrs. Adams now."

"Yes." She forced a smile.

"Who would ever have thought you'd end up as the wife of the agency president?"

Janet walked through the empty house out to the patio and slumped down in one of the wicker chairs. What she had failed to tell Dee and Linda was although Keith had divorced his first wife he was still a bigamist. He was married to his work. He was married to his work far more than he was to her.

She rarely saw him.

"Mrs. Adams," the maid's voice called to her across the patio. "Mrs. Travis is here."

"Send her out here, Ruth. And bring us some sherry, will you?"

Connie Travis could be a pain in the ass sometimes. And she drank too much sherry. But at least she was company. And sometimes she could be amusing. She knew all the gossip.

"You know what I think?" Connie said after her third sherry.

"What?" Janet asked, knowing she was about to hear another choice bit of scandal.

"I believe Mark and Sandra have become lovers."

"What makes you think that?" Janet asked with a cool, amused grin.

"My maid had it from Marge's maid. While their husbands are away working, Marge and Sandra are spending nearly every afternoon in bed together. Doesn't that shock you?"

"Not especially," Janet said.

"My God, I mean, two women. They couldn't be that desperate."

After another sherry, Connie Travis said, "They should send for a masseur. I mean if they're that desperate. After all, they're not lesbians."

"Wouldn't that be a little – extreme? Paying a man for sex?"

"Why not," Connie said. "Men do it all the time. Besides, you do get a massage, too, if you care to waste the time on that."

"Do I hear the voice of experience?"

"All right," Connie said, sitting up straight, trying to look sober. "I know you think I'm just a silly, sexless gossip. But that's not true. I get so – sometimes I can't stand it."

"Yes," Janet said sympathetically.

"Listen, let me give you this card. Outside service only. And believe me, the service is guaranteed the best."

Janet went upstairs to her room. Two hours till cocktail time. A lonely cocktail. Keith was in Seattle. Then she would have dinner with Mr. and Mrs. Morrison whom she hardly knew and who bored her. But they were old friend's of Keith's and felt it their duty to entertain her.

She sat on the edge of the giant-sized, four-poster bed. She lifted the phone from the receiver. She began dialing the number on the card.

"Hello," she said when a woman answered. "I got your number from Connie Travis. She gave me your card."

"Oh yes." The voice was brighter now. "We'd be very glad to help you in anyway we can."

"Perhaps – perhaps you could send Otto over." Janet's ears burned with shame.

"I'm afraid he's out on a call right now. But I could send Mario. I'm sure you will find him quite satisfactory."

"In about an hour?"

"Yes."

When she heard the chimes at the front door, Janet strolled from the sitting room into the bedroom, leaving the door ajar. She got out of her clothes and slipped between the silk sheets naked.

She heard his heavy footsteps enter the sitting room and she began to shiver.

"In here," she called.

He came into the bedroom. She had been afraid they might send a callow youth, barely past adolescence. Thank God, they hadn't. He was a man in his late twenties. He was tall, swarthy. His hair was thick and black. He wore snug trousers, a windbreaker over a snow-white T-shirt.

Janet had tucked the covers up just to her waist so he could see her big titties.

"Join me," she said, patting the place beside her on the bed.

He gave her a sweet-wicked smile and began languidly to undress, each movement calculated, experienced.

He walked naked towards her with slow, masculine grace. His big cock was already hard. Yes, it had been wise to give him a good look at her titties.

Janet's heart beat faster.

But I'm paying for it, she thought. My God, I'm actually paying a man to – but Connie's right. Don't men do that all the time – pay women?

He took hold of the covers and yanked them aside. She spread her legs wide and gave him a good look at her pussy. His cock twitched.

He covered her with his warm, hard body. The coiled hairs of his chest were prickly against her breasts. She felt his cock hard, pulsating, pressed against her thigh.