Brad Harris - Turned on secretary

"Mendel," she purred, "you must bring this girl home more often. Better yet, find her a nice, young stud for a husband and we'll take them to our swinger's club on Sunday evenings."

That was not what Sheila wanted. Hell, she had a husband. At least, she had one until two weeks ago. She didn't want another one, not even Walt. Walt Morrow was good for screwing around with, but she didn't want to be married to him. Hell, she didn't want to be married to anybody. She was just beginning to enjoy herself. She was just learning how much fun there was for a single girl.

She was forced, however, to think about both Tom and Walt. When she got back to Ruby's apartment, Ruby told her that Tom had called. Her ex-husband wanted a chance to talk with her. He had tried to convince Ruby that he was horribly sorry for what he had pulled on his wife. He wanted another chance. Sheila waved the message aside, then told her friend about the offer Mr. Forrest had made. They both became excited as they thought about Sheila laying every important man in the company. Ruby sat back, her eyes closed and a soft smile on her lips.

"What about Walt Morrow?" she asked quietly. "You know that he wants to marry you as soon as you divorce Tom. How will he tit into your plans?"

"He won't," Sheila answered. "I only want him to tit his cock up my tail. That's the only interest I have in Walt. He gives a good fuck, but I expect he'd be an awful husband. Besides, why should I need a husband? I can get more cock without one."

They laughed together, then embraced happily. Sheila knew, though, that it would not be so easy. It would not be so easy to get rid of Tom. It would be even more difficult to hold Walt off.

"So you're the one!" Harrison Collins beamed as he stepped in the door and looked over Sheila. "Damn! You're even more beautiful than you seemed at the convention."

Sheila looked at him questioningly. He hadn't been at any of the parties she had attended. She had seen him presiding at meetings, of course. She couldn't recall having ever been within fifty feet of him, though. She must have shown her confusion. He set his small suitcase down and stepped closer.

"I saw you," he assured her. "It was from a distance, but I saw you. Sweetheart, you're a standout in any crowd. I could never forget that hair or those tits."

His face showed complete approval as he looked her over now. She had just made it. She had just finished slipping into the gleaming satin gown. Her hair lay soft and fluffy about her shoulders. The sexy hostess dress was cut low to show maximum cleavage, and was slit up the side all the way to her rump. She had smiled as she looked at the shimmering white material, thinking idly how great it would look as a wedding gown. She wrinkled her nose at her reflection, deciding that it was a wedding gown. She was marrying the company. Nothing seemed more appropriate than wearing it for her fuck with the company president. She pretended to blush at Mr. Collins' compliments, leading hint to the small bar which Mendel Forrest had amply stocked as soon as she moved in.

"What's your pleasure?" she asked as he stepped beside her and ran his hand lightly beneath her tits. She smiled warmly at him, showing her approval of his fingering. "We try to supply your needs around here. I hope we have a little of everything."

"You have plenty of what I want," Collins rasped. "Damn, you're a beautiful woman!"

He turned her toward him and kissed her while he reached inside her gown and caressed her tits. His cock rubbed against her as it swelled in excitement. His body trembled in anticipation. Then he suddenly relaxed and stepped back from her. A laugh rippled from his throat.

"Forgive me," he told her. "I'm afraid I was coming on much too strongly."

"However you like," Sheila answered. "After all, I'm here to please you."

He stepped to the bar and poured himself a drink. He studied the girl as he sipped slowly. He started to speak once, then decided to wait.

Sheila lounged against the bar, posing her ass and tits for him as he watched her. There was something he wanted to say. She had a feeling about it. He wanted to ask her something but hadn't yet found the courage. He poured himself a second drink and downed it much more rapidly. Then he reached out and took her by the hand.

"Did you mean that?" he asked.

"Mean what?" the redhead returned, trying to piece together his meaning.

"About however I like it," he responded. "Would you really do it as I prefer?"

"Of course," Sheila assured him. She felt only a faint flicker of warning, then shrugged that off. Mr. Collins certainly didn't appear dangerous. She couldn't imagine him turning into any sort of a maniac. He was a jolly sort of man, growing more plump with age. His round face seemed pleasant, almost cherubic. She wrinkled her nose at him and smiled warmly. "You tell me what you want," she said, "and I'll do my damnest to satisfy you."

Collins smiled at her. He patted her tits, then left to get his suitcase. Sheila followed him to the bedroom and pulled the coven back in preparation. She began slipping her gown off when she saw him removing his suit. He reached out and stopped her.

"No," he said. "It looks so beautiful on you. We'll get it off later. At fist, just take off everything underneath."

"All I have beneath it is my panties," she laughed, slipping the gossamer fabric down her legs and giving him an enticing view of her thighs in the process.

She waited while he completed undressing. Sheila suddenly suspected that there might be some trick to get his limp cock completely ready for fucking. She watched as he opened his suitcase and pulled out a small whip. It was made of string, not leather, yet it still had a threatening air about it. Collins handed it to her, then stretched himself across the bed.

"Whip me," he directed her. "I'm going to be a bad boy, so give me my punishment first." Sheila looked down at the lash, then at his chubby ass as he bent over the bed. She shook her head in disbelief. She'd heard about such men. She laughed at her own hesitation. Hell, she didn't want to hurt him. He was her boss, the big boss. She certainly didn't want to hurt a man that important. She didn't want to offend him either, she reminded herself. She had promised to do whatever he liked. Now she had to carry out that promise.

"GO ahead," he insisted, looking back at her. "Don't be afraid, honey. You won't kill me. You'll give me a hell of a hard-on, though."

Almost by instinct she let the whip fall acres his buttocks. Pink streaks sprung over his ass where the lash had pulled across it. She lifted her arm and let the lash fall again. Deeper pink streaks appeared. She struck him again, then again. He gasped beneath her blows, his face getting red from excitement. His body began to pulse heavily, writhing in sexual delight beneath each blow. Sheila became fascinated with the way his ass got brighter red with each slash. She felt her tits heaving in excitement, felt her pussy starting to throb each time she dropped the whip onto him. Damn! She was enjoying this. She was getting aroused as well as Mr. Collins. She panted in her sudden pleasure, lashing at him again and again.

"Ohhhhhh!" he moaned in sensuous agony. "Ohhhhh, Baby! Ohhhhh!"

She struck him more rapidly. She stuck him more viciously. She whipped him until he was writhing beneath her. She struck him until she was trembling and shaking with wild delight. She whipped him harder and faster, her lust rising frantically inside her.

Suddenly he rolled onto his back. He grabbed the whip as she struck again, gabbed it and pulled her onto the bed with him. He jerked the lash from her and threw it across the room. His hands ripped the expensive satin from her body as he came up over her. His cock was immense and threatening. He pushed her flat on the bed and brandished his glowing pecker above her.