Welcome to Rolennia Ch. 01

I finally looked her in the eye; she returned the gaze with businesslike demeanor. "Simma... I don't get it. You're obviously a bright woman... you speak English very well! Surely there are other opportunities for someone like you to get ahead that don't require you to sleep with your boss!"

"Mr. Summers... you know of Sophie Sunshine?" I nodded with some surprise. "Her real name is Anjestina. Not far from here. One of biggest porn star in world, yes?" I nodded again. "They say last year she make 300 movie. You know how much money she make?" I shook my head. "My cousin is accountant. He say she make 70,000 florint last year. Yes, she get to travel and such, but she make less than secretary at SI." She paused and then added "And rumor now is she have HIV."

My jaw almost dropped... wow, that was big news. I certainly hoped it wasn't true--I LOVED to watch Sophie taking a big black dick up the ass. Which, of course, made it very like to BE true.

"There was another girl in village where I live... name is not important. She go to Middle East, thinking to work as housekeeper. The find her dead--she had been force work as prostitute and customer kill her. And that was for just 30,000 florint!"

"Wow," was all I could say.

"So Mr. Summers," she continued, walking back around to the outside of the bar, "I want job. Job very good I think-- pay is good, and I not get infection or end up dead. Yes, I have sex with boss... in Rolennia, sex with boss is part ofevery good pay job for woman." She now walked right up to me, and started running her long, painted fingernails along my chest through the sateen of my fitted shirt. "And for you, Mr. Summers," she now purred seductively, "is even better deal. You get sex with secretary... like me... any time you like... any way you like... You not get benefit like this in America, I think..." And before I could answer, she pressed her red-glossed lips against mine.

I didn't know how to respond at first. It's weird enough to kiss someone you've literally JUST met. Add to that the fact that I had been in this strange country for less than 24 hours and I hadn't been had a romantic kiss from anyone but my soon-to-be ex-wife in years. While there wasn't the comfort and familiarity of kissing someone you are in a relationship with, neither was it fake or forced. It felt, rather, like an invitation to further exploration. There was no question that her motives were purely financial--but that didn't mean her actions were insincere. Fact was, it felt like she was trying to seduce me--why wouldn't she, since it seemed I was the only way she could get to the goal she was after? Twisted though it might be, her desire to please me was real, and that was communicated more strongly in her kiss than any words could have said.

I hadn't had sex in months, hadn't had good sex in much longer, and hadn't had sex with a girl as hot as Simma, well, ever. Now she was kissing me, trying to get me to respond to her, and Lord knows my erection already had. Responding to Simma didn't mean I was accepting the job, I told myself... although we both knew it would influence the likelihood, that's why she was doing it. But being acutely aware that I would never have a girl this hot try to seduce me this hard ever again, I decided I may as well take what was being offered. So I started to kiss her back more actively, and she responded in kind. The intensity of her attention built to the critical point where my excitement exceeded my reservations, and the result was like a dam bursting. I suddenly wrapped my arms around her, holding her close, and kissing her with passion.

Simma had a smile on her face when we came up for air. "Is off to good start. I know many secretary sleep with boss every night for two, three year, and never once get kiss. I like." I found that hard to imagine. She kissed me again. Moments later, I felt a hand gently stroking the front of my pants. She had no problem finding the hidden salami and stroked it deftly. By now it was dying to come out.

Simma broke off the kiss and took a half-step back. The look on her face was not exactly a smile, it was more of a look of confidence. If nothing else she knew how the next chapter of this story was going to play out. I started to wonder just how many times she may have been in exactly this same situation, and with how many men... should I be worried about diseases? But she distracted me by elegantly sliding her blazer from her shoulders and letting it fall to the ground. She stood before me for a moment, unashamed, confident that she looked great--and boy did she ever. Her red hair glowed, her shoulders were slender but not bony. Her breasts stood proud, and her torso was lean and perfect. She every bit the killer body that Sophie Sunshine did, only with the bonus of red hair instead of blonde.

Perhaps noticing that my eyes were enjoying but not my hands, Simma slowly reached for my left hand. I let her pick up my hand and draw it towards her. She gently curled down my two smaller fingers, then inserted my index and middle fingers into her mouth and began to caress them with her tongue like she was sucking a dick. And that was exactly what my dick was thinking, because I involuntarily curled my hips forward slightly in response. She smiled, getting just the reaction she was hoping for, then carefully guided my hand to her chest and placed it on her breast.

My fingers responded instantly to the touch of her pointy nipple. Without thinking about it, my second hand reflexively joined the first. Like a Pavlovian dog my hands could not help but respond to the touch of her breasts but by stroking, kneading, and tweaking the wonderful flesh with my fingers. What really stuck with me, though, was Simma's face--she kept watching me evenly, not flinching, as I played with her tits. She wasn't necessarily enjoying it, but she clearly consented to allowing me to enjoy her.

I bent forward slightly--I just had to taste those pointy nipples. Big as erasers they were, and in my mouth they felt the perfect blend of tenderly soft yet substantial. I sucked on her lovely tit, holding it lightly between my teeth, not quite biting but squeezing. She seemed to thrust her chest out slightly so that I could reach them more easily. I peeked up at her as I suckled her tits. She was still watching me placidly; I guess it was too much to ask for her to be turned on. I grabbed both of her nipples between my thumbs and forefingers, giving them each a firm but not painful pull-and-twist. As I did, I leaned forward to kiss her again. She responded, and then as I pulled away to suck her nips again, she teased me by running her tongue along my lips. This girl knew every trick to turning a guy on, and was leaving nothing in the bag.

Squeezing her breasts once again, I felt a tug at my waist. Quick as a flash my belt was open, my pants undone and... aaahhhh... her soft, warm hands found my penis. She held her hands together, flat almost like she was praying, only with my penis sandwiched between them. She ran her hands up and down my shaft, stroking me. "Mmmhhh" I couldn't help but sigh, closing my eyes for a moment.

"You like?" she teased, growing in boldness as she sensed her control of the situation. "I can do lots of thing you will like, Mr. Summers."

"Martin." I corrected.

"Martin?" she asked, still stroking me.

"Yes. Martin Summers. If you're going to be touching me like that, I want you to call me Martin and not Mr. Summers."

"OK... Martin," she agreed with slight bemusement. I wondered what it was like, being a woman and having a man's penis in your hand, able to see in his face that he would do just about anything to continue to experience that pleasure. Scratch that--I didn't care. She had promised to do anything I wanted--well, she was going to have to pay that piper pretty damn soon.

Simma seemed to instinctively know just the right time to up the ante. She let go of my junk, reached to her side, quickly unzipped her skirt and let it fall to the floor. She kicked it aside a little ways with her heel, now wearing only heels, thigh-highs and a thin necklace. Then without hesitation she got down on her knees before me. She pulled my pants down to my ankles; I tried to step out of them but they got caught on my shoes. Fortunately she could pull my shoes off without untying them, and so with only a minute or two delay I was pantless. She lifted my shirt so that wasn't in the way, and then without hesitation she opened her mouth, made an O-shape with her lips, and started to suck my dick.

I watched in amazement as my dick slipped in and out of the beautiful face with the lovely read hair. Holy shit, when Simma sucked she meant business, and by business I mean she was trying to coax the spunk from my balls. No token gesture, no measured foreplay--right from the get go she was sucking for maximum efficiency. Her tongue worked my tip, paying careful attention to the sensitive underside. Her lips squeezed and excited my shaft as she worked her way up and down its length. "Goddamn that feels good!" I exclaimed. Simma didn't even look up from her work; I think she already knew that she gave GREAT head.

Simma slowed her pace. Looking down, saw now that she was trying to deep-throat me. She was looking up, watching my reaction as she tried to swallow me whole. She had my balls cupped in her left hand, and every time she forced my choad into her throat she waggled her tongue, reaching. It looked like she was trying to get to the point that she could lick my ballswhile my dick was down her throat. And while that would have been an impressive feat that would have looked great on video, this wasn't porn, and it had felt better when she'd been going faster and concentrating on the part she could swallow more easily.

I pulled my dick back, held her head gently with my hands, and face-fucked her for a few thrusts. "I liked it better the other way," I grunted. I sensed possible relief as she reverted to her original style. Goddamn that felt good... it would't take much of this before I'd be blasting a load down her throat. I watched her suck... but maybe the most exciting part wasn't watching her expertly manipulate my penis with her mouth. Rather, it was that the whole time she was blowing me, she was furiously masturbating with her right hand. That was just so hot... all the while that she was sucking me like a milking machine, she was getting her pussy revved up so that if I wanted to switch orifices, she would be ready to go. I've never had someone want to get me off so single-mindedly.

I swear there was a psychic connection between Simma and my dick. As if on cue, Simma stopped sucking. She stroked me with her free hand, licking me with her tongue, but mostly looking up at me and looking for guidance. Somehow she knew it was time for the main event.

Perhaps somewhat gruffly given my advance state of arousal, I tugged at Simma to get her to stand. I hadn't even thought about where I would fuck her--standing right in there would be fine if that's what it took. I just knew I wanted to fuck her, right fucking NOW. Once again, Simma was prepared. With a slight smile, she took my hand and guided me the few feet over to the bar. She turned one of the bar stools so that it faced me and hopped up on it. She didn't really sit though--she kind of planted her tush on the seat, but then leaned back, propping herself up by resting her elbows on the bar. Then she lifted her legs high overhead and wide apart, holding her legs open in a V-shaped position. I didn't appreciate at the time what kind of flexibility and core-muscle strength it must have taken to maintain that position, all I knew is that everything I could have ever wanted was laid out before me for the taking like a goddamn smorgasbord.

I moved in for the kill. Simma was ready--she reached for me and guided me into her steaming pussy herself. Then she braced herself against the bar again, working to hold herself steady on the stool, anticipating that I would be rocking her hard. I did not disappoint. I felt that warm, wet pussy envelop my dick and I fucked her like a Neanderthal. It helped that I was pretty close to cumming anyway from the blowjob, but her laid out before me like that was just... amazing. Thrusting her hard and fast, my eyes and hands twittered around her varied and considerable charms, taking a sample of this and a sample of that like at a buffet table. I tweaked a nipple... then I stroked her hair... then I ran my fingers along her finely toned belly... then back to her tits... wow. Everything a man could want she had, of fine quality and right there for me to enjoy. I really wonder how she kept me from knocking her off the stool, because I was fucking her HARD. My conscious mind was completely taken over by pure animal lust... and it was WONDERFUL.

Were I still a younger man, the story would have been over at this point. But while quite capable I am not quite what I used to be--and that's not necessarily a bad thing. No more premature ejaculation here; I kept pumping her pussy steadily, knowing I was going to blow very soon, but not just yet. I looked up at Simma's face for a moment. I was expecting to see that same calm, in control, I am here until you have finished with me face. But I didn't. Instead, Simma's eyes were closed and she was biting her lip unconsciously. I watched more closely, and I realized her breath had become shallow. Perhaps in spite of herself, my continued relentless fucking was now revving her motor, too. That in-control, I'm in charge persona was gone, replaced by something else--something much more real. A real woman, getting really fucked, and feeling real pleasure and excitement because of it. In other words, I was fucking her so well, I was actually starting to get her off.

My ego swelled when I realized my bonage was cracking her facade. I started to feel studly, which spurred me to drive even harder. And between the ego boost and the sexual stimulation, I did now climax. I felt my nuts gear up, my erection turn to iron. I pushed my cock as far into her pussy as I could reach. Simma felt the change and opened her eyes, looking at me. Without intending to, we ended up gazing into each other's eyes at the exact moment that my dick exploded in orgasm deep inside her belly. It was an intensely powerful moment.

Simma relaxed a little, thinking her job was done, but that studly voice in the back of my head kept spurring me on. I had started to actually turn her on; I wanted to see if I could make her cum. With my dick shrinking slowly inside her, I reached between her legs and started rubbing the little nubbin of her clitoris furiously. She brought her knees in; she squeaked "no," but swallowed the words. I sensed that she didn't want me to get her off (although I didn't understand why at the time), but she also didn't want to tell me not to do something if it was what I wanted. She closed her eyes, bit her lip nervously, and held position as I rubbed her clit. Her hips, however, told me all I needed to know; she could not help but squirm in response to my stimulation. Now I was the one in charge. I watched with fascination as the gorgeous creature responded to my manipulations, no longer dictating the pace and sequence of events. I kept rubbing. It didn't take very long before I saw her stiffen up, and then felt shudders racking her entire body.

I had succeeded, that REALLY swelled my ego--for about a minute. But then I noticed Simma's reactions, and suddenly I felt a little guilty. She kept her eyes closed, turned away from me for a moment, and seemed to be struggling keep composure. By actually making her cum, I had now brought her real emotions into the picture. Up until now this had just been part of the job; it hadn't been difficult when her real feelings were kept at a distance. But I had forced them to the surface and made it all more complicated; I understood now why Simma didn't want me to get her off. I leaned in to kiss her, trying to comfort her, but she cut the kiss short. "I'm sorry," I started to say, stepping back to let her get up. This is not how I had wanted this to end.

"No be sorry," she said, regaining composure as she stood up and straightened her thigh-highs. "Is just... more than I expect..."

I was afraid that I had scared her off completely. "Do you still want to be my secretary?" I asked tentatively.

She whirled on me hopefully. "You take job?"

"I'm supposed to meet with Milan for dinner tonight to discuss it," I said. I could see her hopes dash.

"If you take job, you choose secretary," she parroted the company line.

"If I take job," I said, mimicking her syntax, "I choose you to be secretary. I'm asking if you are still willing to BE my secretary."

"But of course," she answered, turning to me again with a perplexed look. "Why I change mind?"

"I just... wondered if I had just crossed a line, and you were having second thoughts," I explained.

"No," she shook her head. I suddenly wondered if she didn't now want the job even more than before.

"Would you come with me when I have dinner with the president?" I asked impulsively.

She shook her head again, but looked me in the eye and spoke earnestly. "No... I cannot. Secretary not allow to come to dinner with president unless invite by president. Even if you invite."

"Oh," I said sadly. "I was kind of hoping to spend some time out on the town after dinner..."

"That I can do," she brightened. "You call when you finish, I meet you in bar. Maybe we have few drink, I show you around."

"I'd like that, Simma," I declared.

"I like that too."

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I did a lot of thinking as I showered before dinner. I hadn't seen a lot of the country--but then again, I probably wouldn't even if I lived here. I'd work, then I'd come home, and I'd spend time with Simma. Goddamn she was hot. OK, focus. If I lived here I'd be three thousand-plus miles from my kids here, I'd almost never see them. But they had lives of their own now; I almost never saw them anyway. I could always fly home for holidays, the one time I might see them--although I wouldn't have a place to fly home to, so how would that work? Well, maybe I could visit them in their homes rather than the other way around. Or I could go to my parents; they were elderly but still lived in the house where I grew up.

Systems International wasn't offering a lot of money--a little less than I was making now actually. And money had been the main reason I thought I might come here, but that was before I knew about the "benefits." And because of the benefits, my salary would be almost entirely my money, in the clear. It certainly seemed I could save money a lot faster here--the tax situation was much more favorable, and there just wasn't that much to spend it on. But I didn't know anyone here, and I had read that not many people spoke English... I'd have to rely almost entirely on Simma.

Simma. Everything, no matter how much I thought about other factors, revolved around her. I had to hand it to them, Systems International certainly understood how to recruit. Take a guy like me, experienced in the field but getting divorced and uncertain about his future, and guarantee him unlimited sex with a hotter girl than he could possibly find back home. How could a guy like me NOT seriously think about it? Let's be honest: why do men work and compete with each other and all that rot in the first place? In order to obtain sexual access to the most desirable women. Simma... having her around seemed to be cutting to the chase. I was realistic enough to know that if my objective was to have sex with a hot younger woman, myonly choice was to come here, because I had no chance with a girl like her back home. Yeah it wasn't like being in a relationship--but right now, with my divorce about to go through, unlimited sex with no strings attached didn't sound like a bad thing at all. And yet... that look on her face after I made her cum stuck in my mind. That look that it wasn't from fucking as a business proposition. Crazy though it might be, I couldn't stop wondering if maybe, just maybe, Simma might pan out to be more than just a "secretary." And even if it didn't... I'd still get to bone her to my heart's content, goddamn it! For my dick at least, it was a can't-lose situation.