The Persian Phallic Ch. 01

(Please remember, the original was written in 1929, so bear with men wearing hats, making nickel phone calls, and ladies wearing silk stockings and step-ins and using typewriters instead of computers.)

The woman Essie escorted in was a knockout. She was tall and pliantly slender, without angularity anywhere. Her body was erect and high-breasted, her legs long, her hands and feet narrow. Eyes that were a true cobalt-blue.

She wore two shades of blue that had been selected because of those eyes. The hair curling from under her blue hat was darkly red, her full lips more brightly red. White teeth glistened in the crescent her timid smile made. Essie said, "Mr. Shovel this is Miss Wenderly."

Essie's voice underlined the Miss...subtly...but taking a shot at Shovel in a manner known only to them. A shared inside joke.

Shovel was unruffled, he rose and bowing, indicated the oaken armchair beside his desk. He was quite six feet tall. The steep rounded slope of his shoulders made his body seem almost conical- no broader than it was thick- and kept his freshly pressed grey coat from fitting very well.

Miss Wenderly murmured, "Thank you," softly. She sat on the edge of the oak seat, and crossed fantastic legs. Shovel missed not a thing. He sank into his swivel chair, made a quarter turn to face her, and make looking up her skirt easier, and smiled politely. His smile did not make his lips separate, but did make his face grow longer.

The silence grew longer, broken only by the tippity-tap-tap of Essie's typing from the outer office. Shovel was content to eye her stocking covered thigh, and wait.

Miss Wenderly watched the ashes from many hand-rolled cigarettes idly blow across the blotter on Shovel's desk, and her eyes rabbited around the room.

They were uneasy. She scooted to the very edge of her chair, one foot flat on the floor, the other crossed, she did not seem to know that she was exposing her thigh almost to the point where her garter belt attached to her stocking. Her hands in dark gloves clasped a flat dark handbag in her lap.

He decided enough was enough, and asked, "Now what can I do for you, Miss Wenderly?"

She caught her breath and looked at him. She swallowed and said hurriedly: "Could you--? I thought I - that is- " Then she tortured her lower lip with glistening teeth and said nothing. Only her eyes spoke now, pleading.

Shovel smiled and nodded as if he understood her, but pleasantly, as if nothing serious were involved. He said, "Suppose you tell me about it, from the beginning, and then we'll know what needs doing. Better to begin as far back as you can."

Miss Wenderly began a long involved tale involving her younger sister, who had run off from New York with a married man, fled here to California, and Miss Wenderly wanted to find her before their parents returned from Europe.

She and her sister had written back and forth, but she had heard nothing in some time, but upon waiting for her sister to pick up the mail at General Delivery, she had seen Floyd Thursday, the man with whom her sister had left New York.

Shovel listened intently, but his eyes narrowed more and more as in her emotion, her skirt rode higher and higher. He could now clearly see that her silk stockings were attached to clasps on elastic ribbons that led either to a corset or garter belt. From looking at her body, he was willing to bet that she didn't wear a corset. He felt his cock, which had been almost totally hard from playing with Essie, and her efforts with mouth and tongue, begin to swell below the desk. Damn, he though, I would like to strip this gal and see if she is really as innocent as she appears. He slipped a hand down and began to slowly massage his cock to full hardness. He silently thanked God that Essie was a good sport, and liked sex as much as most men. It was sure he was going to need Essie, either her mouth or bent over his desk as soon as this honey left.

Shovel was wondering whether or not Miss Wenderly would give as good head as Essie, when the door opened, and a man came inside. "Oh, excuse me,"

he said, removed his hat, and started to back out.

"It's all right, Miles," Shovel told him. "Come in, Miss Wenderly, this is Miles Archley, my partner."

Miles Archley came in, smiled at Miss Wenderly, and taking in her shape at a glance, pulled a chair to where he could enjoy the view that Shovel had been taking in.

"Miss Wenderly's sister has run away, with a man, and is here in California, Shovel told Archley...and quickly filled him in on all that he had been told. His looking and fantasizing about how Miss Wenderly would be in bed had not kept him from getting every item she had told him.

"Miss Wenderly has a date to meet with Thursday tonight, and wants him followed, perhaps leading us back to her sister."

Shovel filled him in on the details about her meeting Thursday in front of the hotel and so forth.

Archley grinned a letchers grin at the girl, and before Shovel could head him off, had told her that because he didn't want to let one of their men handle it, he would himself be there to follow Thursday. She placed two hundred dollar bills on the corner of the desk, and asked shyly if that would be enough. They assured her it would be, and Archley's gamble paid off, she came to him, and kissed his cheek in thanks for the special treatment. Shovel didn't miss the fact that she pressed one perfectly shaped breast against his arm, as if by accident.

She left, and Archley took one of the bills, Shovel the other, and Archley left.

Shovel stuck his head into the outer office, told Essie to lock the door and come to his office.

She was there in seconds, her eyes glinting. "Want to finish what we started earlier?" He asked.

Essie came around the desk and her mouth was open for his kiss. As they kissed, his hand went up her skirt, and pushing aside her under pants, found her still swollen pussy lips. He stroked it with the ease of a familiar lover, and was rewarded with Essie getting an orgasm at the first touch on her clit. She broke the kiss and breathing heavily against his face said, "Oh, Sam, dammit, you know what you do to me." He smiled and his hand became busier, and the other found one of Essies small breasts. She came again, grunting with pleasure, and then her hands found his cock. She unzipped his pants, and his fully hard cock sprang out.

"Do me Sam, do me," Essie said hoarsely. "Do you want some head first?"

"No, no," he said, and turned her around. She bent over the desk willingly, her skirt pulled waist high. Shovel pulled her underpants down to her ankles, and she stepped out of them. He paused a moment, taking in the erotic sight of Essie standing spread legged bent over his desk, her ass pointed at him, her stockings rolled down to just mid thigh like a flapper, and her pussy invitingly dripping wet.

Shovel guided his rigid cock to her slick opening and slid inside without any hesitation. Essie shuddered, and had another orgasm as his thick cock sank in all the way. She took the full length, and pushed her sopping pussy back against him. He started to slide in and out, as they had many times in the past. He closed his eyes, and for the first time ever, while fucking Essie, the vision in his mind was not of the woman impaled on his cock. He was thinking and fantasizing about Wenderly. He loved having sex with Ellie, she was such a good sport, and he loved the fact that she had multiple orgasms almost from the time he touched her till he was through. As if in answer to his thought, another shudder ripped her slight body, and the walls of her pussy closed down, gripping his cock tightly. He was fully inside, and she gripped him from base to tip. As her orgasm passed, he began to move faster and faster.

"Oh, yes, Sam, give it to me, fuck me daddy, fuck me good." She was almost shouting.

He pounded in and out, the feeling fantastic. Sex with Essie was always good, but this was fantastic. He felt his cum boiling out of his nuts and shoved his full length into her waiting wet opening. Shovel shot a wad, and was rewarded with Essie getting another, larger orgasm. She clamped down on his cock with such strength that he felt the muscles milking the cum out of him. He grunted, and pumped gout after gout of hot thick cum into her willing and waiting cunt.

She drained him expertly, and as his cock softened, turned around and dropping to her knees, took him into her mouth and using a combination of tongue and sucking, left his cock as fresh and clean as if he had bathed.

"Thanks precious," Shovel said, "You are terrific, I really needed that."

"You horny old bastard," Essie said laughing, "I figured you would be all sexed up by that little red haired honey. Well, she gets Miles, and I got you. That was good, Sam, really good."

"It's always good with you, precious." He told her, and kissed her mouth.

He tasted his own cum and hers mixed. Not an unpleasant taste.

"Oh, sure, you always say that," Essie said, "But if it's so good why are you fucking Miles' wife behind his back?"

Shovel grinned at her, slapped her bare ass, and zipped up his pants.

"See you tomorrow, precious."