Vince Marcos: The office girls

He knew that Sharon North didn't fuck or suck. It was all around the office. Every one of those gum-chewing, big-mouthed secretaries had a little bit (or sometimes a lot) of slut in them, and when they began developing a taste for meat, not even the mailroom boys were safe! Why, last week, one of them – what was her name, Alice or Anne or something like that – locked herself in the john after typing copy for the December SNATCH STORIES section of Playpen and jacked off. The piece was about blow-jobs, and one of the girls somehow got into the bathroom and found her sticking a bottle of Ban roll-on deodorant (which is rather dick-shaped) into her pussy and reading the story at the same time.

Even the way Sharon acted, he could tell. The times she took dictation, she was careful the way she sat, pulling her skirt down over her knees and remaining in that position for the length of the letter. Or she would look twice before bending over to pick up something she dropped.

If only she could snap out of that world she was built into. He had so many fantasies about balling her that it was pitiful, compared to what she was really like.

Mark Spaulding knew that many of the girls in the steno pool had the hots for him. And wasn't it a shame, but they did absolutely nothing for him the way Sharon did. She was everything he had looked for in a fuck-partner. Her ass was just right, nice and plump, while her waist was small and her tits the size of cantaloupes. Christ, he was dying to ram his tool into her slit and bang her silly. She really turned him on, and yet he wasn't about to play all the virginal games she had in mind.

Hell, he was a handsome guy, straight black hair and a clean-shaven face, dark-brown eyes. He was tall and had a great built. Even in a bed match, he could hold his own. And being the associate editor of Playpen Magazine somehow radiated a special kind of sex appeal, one that gave him the kind of power to have any of the girls that worked there do what he wanted.

Except Sharon.

God help him, but he had to fuck her. It was the only thing worth praying for, now that he had everything that would make his life complete. Somehow, he had to think of a way to make Sharon give up this foolish game of "innocence" and show her the meaning of a good cock. He was willing to devote the needed time and effort.

He peeked at her sitting in front of the typewriter, grinding out the stream of letters he had dictated early this morning. Goddamn, but he'd stab her between those nice legs of hers with his peter yet. And once he left his impression on her, and she knew he was the Mark of Excellence, she would come to him willing for a fucking good time.

Yes, he had everything, and soon he'd have her begging to suck him off.

Gregg Connelly smacked his lips as he stood off to the side watching Margot Jordon sink her sexy jaws into some guy's dong. She was lying on a big furry rug, on her stomach, hunched over a Mexican guy who had a ten-and-a-half-inch quarter-pounder. Her small, slender hands clutched his nuts while her mouth worked on his chunky piece of pork.

Her blonde hair fell onto most of her face, but you could see those lips puckering up and munching wildly on that hard joint. She didn't have such big tits, but that little ass got him nice and hard. Shit, just look at her give that spick a work-out! The Mexican, a lean hairy guy of about twenty-three, was groaning on his back in agony, spreading his fuzzy legs wide open while his stomach was sucked in deeply. Margot was giving him her best head.

"That's it, honey," Philip Daniels urged her behind his camera and the haze of bright, blinding lights. "Let that tongue buzz. Pour some more of that saliva over his dick!"

He was snapping dozens of pictures quickly, pausing only for a few moments to get her positioned in some good angles. Gregg Connelly regarded him coolly, not liking the way the photographer was ordering her around. He thought Margot was doing a super job on that spick, and that she didn't need any signals or coaching on the side.

"Give that son-of-a-bitch a hickey on his prong!" shouted Phil, taking pictures like a mad man.

Gregg glowered as he saw that Phil was getting a boner from the action taking place in front of the camera. That prick thinks he can muzzle in on my action, he thought. He had seen Margot first, and it was pretty shitty that Phil Daniels was able to walk into his territory. Gregg clenched and unclenched his fists.

Margot was stuffing her face with the Mexican's hot pepper. She had him helplessly pinned to the carpet, sucking off his pecker like it was going to snap right off. His cock was so dark-red and hard that it sprang straight up into the air.

"Pump it up into her mouth," Phil was instructing the spick. "Shove it deep into her throat!"

The Mexican heaved back and rammed his pud all the way into her face, bucking it like a battering ram. Margot had no problem opening up her throat muscles and taking in the additional meat. Her lips were nibbling at his nest of crotch hair as he hammered his stiff cock up into her hungry mouth. Phil zoomed in on the Mexican's cock area, getting reams of film of his blood-engorged prick pumping into her throat. Margot was getting hot from all this sucking and began to rub her own little hair-pie between her legs. She pushed her fingers into her tight little pussy and started to jack herself off.

"Great, baby, great!" Phil was squealing, getting all these close-up shots. "Keep that fucking whang of yours inflated. I want a big cum shot!"

"Jesus," grunted the Mexican, rolling his ass restlessly on the furry carpet. "I don't know if I can hold off any longer. This chick is roasting my nuts. Oh, Christ, I wish all those chicks had a mouth like yours, baby."

"I'll make you say 'Uncle' yet!" Margot cooed, lapping up those delicious ten and a half inches with a horny appetite. "I love Latin jism… nice and spicy…"

The Mexican's crotch was throbbing. Margot could feel his rod growing in her mouth, forcing her to open her lips much, much wider. Her hands stroked his tight, fleshy sac dangling between his dark, hairy legs. He groaned as she did this, shoving his peter into her even harder. Margot kept her other hand busy between her legs. Gregg saw that no matter how hard she pulled on her muff, she wasn't anywhere near cumming herself.

"Damn, I'm hard as a rock…" the Mexican moaned, his mouth gaping open as he breathed heavily, his hairy stomach sucking in hard, then easing out a little. His hairy hands clamped both sides of her head and pushed down roughly so he could get more cock into her mouth. She gulped down his meat as if she were starving, pressing her lips tightly around his rigid slab of meat and pushing herself down onto it. She sucked it from the bristles to the tip, and then back to the base, never lifting her mouth from it for a minute. The veins in his prick were so swollen that they looked as though they would pop.

"Ahh… that's it, blow it… take my wad into that slimy mouth of yours," the Mexican the murmured. "Make it leak… suck me dry."

"Fuck me in the mouth," she whimpered, clutching his rocks in her hand and jiggling them. His sac felt heavy in her hands and just touching his nuts made her jittery. They were sticky from the saliva she dripped onto them. Jesus, they were so warm, his balls burning in their flesh-bag. "Fuck my throat to pieces! Give me a frigging case of laryngitis!"

Gregg Connelly couldn't help himself any longer. His cock was getting so hard from watching that foxy chick Margot that he just had to fix it up. He fumbled with his zipper, struggling with it slightly since his dick got so hard he was trembling.

He took it out of his fly and started to stroke it. He watched Margot's mouth on the spick and pretended it was HE who was getting blown, that Margot's head was between HIS legs, and not that hairy Mexican's. Christ, how he wanted to squeeze his load between those soft, tasty lips, injecting her sweet throat with his cum. He pulled on his pud anxiously, unconscious of the rest of the film crew around him. Phil Daniels' eyes did not wander from the two groaning figures on the carpet, and the other two guys that worked the lights were getting just as hot from Margot's talented tongue.