tagCelebritiesStoned In Texas: Interlude

Stoned In Texas: Interlude

bykokshur©

Bill sat in his office in an upper floor of a San Francisco high rise. With one part of his mind he was working on some of the paperwork so vital to corporate America. But mostly he was thinking about the story his friend and fellow executive Steve had been telling him over lunch.

Steve had been on a business trip to Texas the previous week. He said that while he was there he had gone to a mall and there he had met internet beauty Tawnee Stone. Apparently because she was pissed off with her boyfriend she had agreed to go to dinner with Steve. Then Steve said that she had been the one to suggest they go to his hotel and order room service.

Once in the hotel room Tawnee had, Steve said, climbed onto his bed and while undressing had done a series of poses similar to one of her photo shoots. When she allowed him to unhook her bra he started fondling her breasts and kissed her. She had returned the kiss with passion and it was at about this point in the story that Steve had announced that he would finish the story later and that they had better head back to the office.

The story up to that point had been such a turn on for Bill that he left his favorite Pizza Place with a raging hard on. And now, as he was thinking through the story again his large cock was again straining against it's fabric prison.

At this moment Bill's secretary, Zanya Miller, came into his office with some papers needing his attention. Zanya was 6 ft. tall with legs described as going on forever. Her skin was the color of dark chocolate (which had always been Bill's favorite) and her eyes were a dark green. She had small but perky tits and a pleasing derriere. Today she had her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail to better show off her huge silver loop earrings. She was wearing a lacy red blouse with a conservative thigh length black skirt, dark stockings, and shoes, red to match her blouse, with 3 inch heels and lacing up her shapely calves. She was about eight years younger than Bill's thirty four and they had been having an affair for about two years now.

She walked around the desk to show Bill the papers and glancing down, noticed the bulge in his pants. "Is that for me?" she asked.

"Always for you hon." said Bill sliding his hand up the back of her leg and under her skirt until it rested on her bottom.

"Oh sure," she teased, "I'll bet you got that erection while thinking about fucking that pretty blonde wife of yours." Bill's wife was in fact blonde and pretty. She was almost 5 ft. 2inches tall and were it not for her really large breasts most people would describe her as petite. She and Bill were happily married and had a very good sex life but that did not stop either of them from having a little something on the side.

"No honey, honest," Bill said, playing along with Zanya's game, "I wasn't thinking of Martha when I got this hard on." and here Bill gave the truth a bit of a playful twist. "Actually, I was thinking about Steve O'Malley."

"Hmph." said Zanya, kneeling next to Bill and unloosening his belt. " Boss, if you've suddenly gone queer on me, at least you've got good taste. I know three girls around the office and four guys, for sure, with crushes on Steve." At this point she had his pants and boxers pulled down to his knees, and Bill's large dick was standing up very proudly.

"Really?" said Bill, "Steve's a good friend but I always thought of him as average looking. I mean he's in his mid forties, bald and has a bit of a spare tire."

"Boss," she said, around a mouthful of cock, "it's not what the man looks like. It's what he is! When that man stops at your desk and asks you how you're doing he makes you feel like you're the most important person in the world to him."

"OH REALLY?" he said. "Does that mean that you're one of his admirers?"

To which she replied, "Don't worry boss, I won't be leaving you for him. At least," and here she looked up and winked at him, "not until he asks me to. Besides, I've taken a liking to this huge white dick" She had one dark hand around the base of Bill's large cock and she had been gripping it and releasing her grip rhythmically. Having said her say she took his cock head again into her mouth and began sliding her mouth up and down the upper part of his cock shaft to the same rhythm. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the sensation.

She stopped her up and down lip motion and started working his shaft with her tongue. "So-- boss," she said between licks, "who-- were-- you --really-- thinking of-- to-- get --this-- ivory tower-- so tall?-- Better --tell me-- or -- I'll leave you hanging."

"Okay, okay, uh, uh," He was having trouble concentrating now, concentrating on anything except the sensations coming to him from the vicinity of his lap, "have you ever heard of Tawnee Stone?"

"Oh-- sure-- the hot-- bitch --from the --internet. I'd do her. But as long as I can do this..." At which she again wrapped her mouth around his cock and lowered her lips to the base of his cock.

Bill was never sure exactly what Zanya did when she did this trick, it involved pressure from her tongue against the underside of his shaft. It involved the tip of her tongue pressing into his balls sack. It involved suction. And he could almost swear that her throat actually tightened up and squeezed the head of his cock. Whatever it was that she actually did, it always resulted in his cumming exactly at the moment SHE wanted him to. The orgasm was always, always, spectacular with lots and lots of cum.

Zanya swallowed as much of Bill's cum as she could, the rest dribbled from her mouth onto his lap. She licked her lips and smiled up at him and said, "You can have your pretty little blonde wife, and any other little white girls you want to. And if you want to jack off watching some teeny bopper computer slut that's fine. But as long as I can do what I just did, I know you'll always be coming back to me. Now you'd better get yourself cleaned up. You have an appointment in just under 10 minutes."

She then stood and walked out of his office and to her own desk.

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