Simon Jillson - Driven To Depravity

Paula was sprawled on her back, her legs spread wide open, her pussy shining a wet pink in the heart of her bush. Her marvelous, full breasts heaved as she fought for breath.

Judy tottered over to her clothes and fumbled them into order. Then she began to dress. When she felt decent, or rather, presentable, she turned to her clients. They hadn't moved.

"Friday," she said firmly.

Both of the Sheins looked at her and nodded.

"Ten in the morning," Judy added. "Be there."

"We'll be there," Steven Shein assured her.

Without another word, Judy left them. She coaxed the smoking old car across town to the bank parking lot.

Milton Caldwell's face lit up when he saw her. Without waiting for the receptionist to announce her, the banker came bustling out of his office.

"Mrs. Penncroft, this is indeed an unexpected pleasure," the vice president gushed. He took her arm possessively and guided her smoothly to his office.

As Judy sat down she heard the lock on the door click. With her purse in her lap, her hands folded primly over it, she sat sternly erect. She didn't feel like a prissy school teacher though, because of the sticky wetness in her crotch.

"Miss Abernathy, no calls, no interruptions," the banker said into the telephone. Then he tried to appear casual, perching one hip on the edge of his desk so he could look down on Judy, and her neckline.

"Now, Mrs. Penncroft, what can I do for you?" he asked.

"You can move the closing date on the McCarter-Shein deal up to this Friday," Judy said succinctly.

The banker's face tightened, became blank and unhelpful. "Well now.

That, ahem, is easier said than done. We must, of course, have the agreement of the sellers to meet with us then."

"They'll be here at ten o'clock."

"This Friday?" Caldwell asked, turning pages on his calendar.

"This Friday."

"Hmmmm," the banker murmured noncommittally.

Judy reached out and deftly lifted the calendar out of his hands.

Nothing that the space for ten in the morning on Friday was blank, she extracted the pen from the desk set. Quickly and neatly she filled in the space: "Shein-McCarter Closing."

"There. I'm glad there was no conflicting appointment," she observed quietly.

The banker's expression was unreadable as he tilted his head to inspect the calendar through the lower half of his bifocals, then lowered his head to inspect Judy through the top half. "Hm," he mused softly, pursing his lips. "Well now," he muttered vaguely. "We must, of course, obtain the necessary funds. That could take some time. These are hard times, Mrs. Penncroft, money is very tight. I'll have to arrange a meeting with the bank president."

Judy picked up the telephone and held it out to him. He eyed it distastefully.

"Yes, sir?" Miss Abernathy inquired tinnily from the receiver.

"Nothing," Milton Caldwell said softly before pushing the cut-off button down.

"On the other hand," he commented, "it seems to me that I may have clearance to release those funds."

"I thought so," Judy replied.

"Now there is the problem of Mr. McCarter," Caldwell pointed out.

"Naturally, he must be prepared to close on the deal this Friday, also."

Judy stood up. "He will be."

The banker's face had fallen as soon as Judy had gotten up out of her chair. "You're not leaving so soon, are you?"

Judy remembered the man's monster organ and felt a twinge of regret.

"I'm sorry, I have a very tight schedule today," she explained. The soggy crotch of her panties reminded her of the delay at the Sheins.

"Maybe on Friday?" Milton Caldwell suggested hopefully. "After the closing?"

Judy balanced her guilt and revulsion against the undeniable desirability of the man's monster shaft and his woebegone expression.

She also reminded herself she didn't have the deal closed yet.

"Perhaps, Mr. Caldwell, we can work something out then."

"Fine, fine," the banker sighed, hope reappearing in his gray eyes.

"I'll see you on Friday." He stood so Judy had to brush against him as she left his office.

Out in the car, Judy gripped the wheel tightly. She knew, as she drove toward his office, that Andrew McCarter wouldn't be as easy to bulldoze as Milton Caldwell had been.

The big red-haired man's office was as well appointed and cared for as he was. The receptionist looked as if she had been lacquered and polished to a high shine – meticulous makeup and a hairdo of polished bronze.

"Yes, Mrs. Penncroft?" McCarter asked her after she was in his office.

His door was still open.

"I want the closing on the Shein house moved up to this Friday at ten in the morning," Judy announced.

"Why?"

"You know why."

"What about Caldwell and the Sheins?"

"They have already agreed," Judy assured him.

"And – ah – just what kind of persuasion did you use to convince them?" the red-haired man asked.

Judy didn't even flinch. She was becoming hardened, she decided.

"Caldwell didn't require any special persuasion," Judy answered. "Just a vague promise was enough for him."

"That figures," McCarter acknowledged.

"The Sheins have their peculiarities," Judy admitted. "Mrs. Shein especially has some – um – interesting aspects. She is quite interested in French culture, as a matter of fact."

"Really," McCarter marveled. "What a coincidence. I'll bet you speak French like a native."

Judy didn't back down from his penetrating gaze and met his eyes boldly. It was a relief when he did shift his gaze away. He got up and went around behind her. She heard some soft orders to his secretary, then his office door being closed. Then he was in front of Judy, leaning back against his desk.

"It just so happens," he continued, "that I, too, am interested in things of that nature." He ran the zipper of his fly down.

Judy watched as he freed his prick. It dangled in an easy curve, then rapidly began to rise and stiffen. "What about the closing?" Judy asked.

"Right now, I am very happy with the present schedule," he answered.

"However, I am willing to be persuaded." His erect cock was standing out from his groin at an angle. A few wisps of red pubic hair showed in the opening of his fly.

Judy licked her lips. She set her purse on the chair beside her.

"Take off your blouse," McCarter ordered softly.

Dutifully, Judy unbuttoned her blouse and dropped it back off her shoulders, baring herself to her waist. The sight of her bare torso, her small, firm breasts with their alert tits, gave added vigor to the thrust of McCarter's cock. "My skirt, too?" Judy asked.

"No, that's enough."

Peculiarly, Judy felt more humiliated at being only half naked than she would have being completely nude. The fact that her own primary sexual organs were to remain covered was evidence of her status in what was to come – her task was to serve but not to be served.

"Convince me," McCarter ordered softly.

Judy slid to her knees in front of the big man. She knelt between his feet as he lounged back against his desk. With her back straight, his cock was inches below her mouth.

She grasped the base of his hard, pink and white shaft. She tipped the round pink head upward toward her mouth. Delicately, she licked his hot flesh, tasting his salty meat. Carefully, she bathed the entire rounded cone of his glans. With the tip of her tongue she probed the little slit, pried it open, tasted the inside of his prick.

Andrew McCarter stood with his arms folded, staring down at the beautiful woman kneeling in front of him. The total subservience of her position thrilled him almost as much as the feel of her tongue on his phallus. He could see her perfect little breasts, jiggling gently as she moved. He found the smooth, flawless sweep of her nude back unexpectedly erotic.