Beetlesmith's Ch. 17

As for my other fuck-mates, I even tried to call up Beth, the auburn-haired girl Karen and I played with from the coffee shop, but she either gave me a wrong number or I wrote it down wrong, because I could never contact her.

I wasn't going to call Denise. She was still on my shit list ever since she gave me the brush-off with that lame, hairdresser excuse. In fact, I hadn't talked to her since that time, and it had been nearly a month. I suspected she'll be calling me soon. Not sure why I felt that way, except to say that once I had resolved never to play the fool again, my lucky stars have turned back to their former courses—the world and the heavens above, favor me once again.

I didn't tell Karen about any of this, not out of any fear that she would, or could, do anything about it, just that I felt it better not to rub it in her face. There was punishment, and then there was cruelty, making my trysts more public to Karen would have been cruel.

So, I'd have the other ladies meet me at a motel near my home for a few hours every day after work. I'm sure Karen guessed at what was happening. I was always late for dinner, and when I did get home each night the unmistakable scent of my fuck bunnies lay heavy upon me. However, she never mentioned any of her suspicions to me. I think she was turned on a little by the knowledge that other women were pleasuring me. Every evening when she greeted me, she would get very close—particularly in the area of my groin—and take a great whiff of my scent. At which point, I would feel her adrenaline climb.

I guess if she couldn't fuck me directly, she could at least fuck me vicariously through other women.

I started my new routine with the other women that first Monday after my liberation from being a cosmic chump, making plans to meet Jackie and Cecilia at one of the no-tell motels after work. Before then, however, there were a few things I needed to finish.

I always hated loose ends. Their existence implied a muddled life.

One of those loose ends was Candice, who turned out to be instrumental in putting me through those weeks of agony by playing the saucy tease. There were also a couple of junior executive assholes I wanted to touch base with. I can still hear their humiliatingly snotty comments when I was throwing up in Candice's wastebasket.

I got to the office early to set my plans in motion. Unfortunately, even before I had a chance to see Candice, Jack came into my office and threw my shitty report down on my desk—oh well, the best laid plans...

"Jesus, Will, what the hell is that pile of crap you turned in? I'm seriously reconsidering my decision putting you charge of this division. Were you drunk when you wrote this steaming pile?"

I answered with mock sheepishness, "Sorry about this Jack. And no I wasn't drunk, I was sick. I was throwing up into waste cans all day while trying to write the freaking thing. Just ask anyone."

Jack heard the truth in my voice, and eased up on his 'Big Boss Man' persona, "Well, next time you're sick just go home. Christ, I would have given you an extension. No problem. Besides, I don't need the numbers until Wednesday when I meet with the Board."

"Like I said, sorry. I felt I needed to get something to you and on time, seeing this was my first quarterly since taking over for the dick...for Kendall. My crap writing aside, the numbers looked pretty good. Did you see?"

A large grin erupted across his face, followed by his characteristic guffaw, "They're not just pretty good, they're fucking pretty great! You're a fucking miracle worker."

I slipped back into mock humility mode, "Well, at least you liked the message, if not the delivery. Thanks for that, but I wouldn't say they were that good. I stopped the bleeding at least. A lot of credit goes to my team. Contrary to what Kendall may have said to you about them, they're all good people. I just made a few personnel changes, and put the right people into the correct slots. They were just put on the wrong accounts relative to their strengths and weaknesses."

"Well, keep it up, and next time, just go home when you're sick."

He turned to leave, but I called him back, "Jack, as long as you're here, Karen and I are planning another party..."

I didn't get all the words out before he started asking questions in rapid fire, sounding like a kid being asked what he wanted for Christmas, "When...What time...Who else will be there, Jackie?...How many babes besides Karen?...Can I bring someone? I got this hot blonde number I met at Skardell's over drinks, she'd be choice...And there's this..."

I cut him off before he got too deep into his roster of fantasy fuck-mates, "In two weeks, the Saturday after this one coming up. I haven't firmed up any details yet, but I'm guessing there's going to be close to twenty guests..."

"Twenty! Oh-ho, Nelly, youare planning a party. How many beauties do you want me to bring?"

"How about one more beauty besides Denise, I've got a lot of friends and neighbors I want to include..."

"Denise!" he blurted. I could tell Denise wasn't on his short list of fuck bunnies, and was disappointed I would waste a coveted party slot inviting her.

I'm still trying to figure out why they stay married.

He thought a moment more, then grinned, "She really impressed you at the party, eh Will? I bet it was that blow job, you dog."

Actually, the ass-raping she did to you with that strap-on was what really impressed me, you arrogant fuck.

I tried to look embarrassed, with an 'Aw sucks, you got me' grin, "Well, I didn't want to be too obvious. Particularly with the boss', you know..."

He waved a hand, a polite sign that I should dismiss that thought outright, and said before leaving, "Okay, go ahead and invite Denise, just as long as Karen's there to give me her special 'treatment' again. Clue me in about the specifics of the party when your plans firm up."

Karen!? You lecherous old fuck, don't even think about my wife. Oh, you'll get that 'special treatment' alright. I'll have Denise do you with the strap-on, and anyone else who wants a turn. Then, maybe I'll see you take Mark up the dirt chute, as well.

Yes, among all the others I'll be inviting, I decided to invite Cope, as well. I figure I owed it to him given how I treated him last time. He'll probably spit in my face at the invite, but I'll try nonetheless. I wanted to settle all debts and even all scores with this party...

Speaking of which, don't forget there are still a few scores to settle at the office today.

As I walked out into the main office area, I noticed that Candice was back at work and at her desk. I also noticed she was back to her old, frumpy self, wearing those loud, loose-fitting blouses with the god-awful gaucho pants.

Seems everything has returned to normal after my two-week venture through hell. I've my powers back and stronger than ever, and those former prudes who were temporarily vamping the slut the last two weeks—Candice, of course, but I suspect some others here in the office—where back to being prudes.

Candice gave me a quick, embarrassed look before returning to the computer screen.

I could read that look like it was flashing in twenty-foot high, neon letters. She was hoping to get through this first day back at work without having me say anything to her.

There's no chance of that happening, my little chubby slut. We're going to have a nice, long, one-on-one and cock-to-face talk, but it will have to be a little later. There are two, junior executive a-holes I want to deal with, first

I spotted them across the room, talking with each other on the other side of the central secretarial partitions. I slowly made my way over to them. They were giving me sideways glances as they continued talking to each other.

Go ahead, keep talking about me, you snotty fucks. Paybacks are really a bitch!

Just when I got into earshot, the taller, snottier looking of the two, said to me, "Mr. Henry, what brings you over here and into the slums? Hey, sorry about last week, are you feeling better? You must be...Stupid question...Since the quarterlies are in."

The shorter, stupider of the two couldn't keep his smarmy face from snickering at his friends back-handed insult to me.

I passed their insults off, and offering my hand, saying, "Yeah, I've been spending much of this morning making amends to everyone about that. I hope you can forgive, and definitely forget, what happened."

They both shook my hand—a 'fatal' error on their part. The taller one even had the gall to offer his sympathies again, as if I needed to hear another round of his insincere condolences.

I'm still not sure why I did what I did. They were just a couple of insignificant nobodies...

Wrong Henry! Wrong! They were a couple ofsnotty, insignificant nobodies, and we can't let shitty little, arrogant punks get away with their disrespect, no matter how insignificant.

I went back to my office and waited.

It wasn't long before I heard all hell break loose in the outer office. One of the secretaries came running out of the ladies room, screaming. Her scream brought the whole secretarial staff rushing to the ladies room, and then they all started screaming.

"You degenerate, freaking low-lifes, get the hell out of there!" I heard one of the secretaries yell.

"Somebody call security!" yelled another.

Clothes in hand, the two junior assholes, each naked and sporting a tremendous hard-on, were chased out of the ladies room by a couple of the more indignant and adventurous staff. Then all the secretaries began hounding the two executives through the office like irate villagers chasing Frankenstein's monster. All that was missing were the pitchforks and torches.

The two assholes ducked into their respective offices to avoid the inevitable 'tar and feathering.' Even when the two slammed and locked their office doors against the angry mob, the ladies continued pounding on their doors and screaming for their metaphorical heads—or in case, for their testicles.

Before security could arrive, the women had chased to two junior executives out of the building. It wasn't long after that word came down from up high, and security set about packing the two executive's personal belongings and clearing out their offices.

I was sitting behind my desk when Candice made the error of venturing into my office, having finally pulled herself away from the spectacle.

See Henry, everything is falling into place. Now it's time we settled that other score.

Candice blurted out, "Oh my god, Mr. Henry, did you see what just happened?"

"No Candice," I answered, blandly, "I just heard a lot of commotion. What happened?"

"Debbie just caught that Parker and Justin guy doing each other right on the floor in the middle of little girl's room. Can you believe that? They were...you know...doing gay stuff in our bathroom. I didn't even think they were gay..."

They weren't, at least not until a few minutes ago.

Parker and Justin—at least now you know who you got fired.

I cut her off by saying, "It's a sad thing when people can't control their sexual appetites, particularly in public. Don't you think, Candice?"

She didn't answer at first, staring at me blankly as her mouth soundlessly moved up and down. She looked like a netted tuna on a troller deck, gasping for oxygen.

I got up and closed the office door while Candice continued stammering and trying to come up with something to say. When I sat back down, she finally blurted out, "I'm really sorry about my behavior last..."

"Really? You were sorry about feeling me up in front of everyone?" I asked, sarcastically.

"Mr. Henry, please forgive..."

"Forgive what, Candice? Forgive this god-awful, frumpy get-up you're wearing? I don't think I can. What happened to those tight-fitting sweaters and skirts you've been wearing?"

"After...After what happened with you, Mrs. Croynski told me I needed to dress more modestly..."

Beatrice the crone, again, we'll have to do something about her. Can't have officious meddlers spoiling our fun!

"Is that why you changed your attire, because of Beatrice?"

She stammered, "I...Well...No...I..."

I cut off her gibberish, "I've been so disappointed with you lately. First, you play the tease, getting me interested in you with your slutty outfits. Only now it looks like you're backing out at the last minute..."

"Mr. Henry, I'm sorry I..."

"Don't interrupt me again! Jesus, what is it with all you slutty bitches telling me you're sorry all the time? You bitches think you can just do whatever crap you want, and you don't care. At least until you get caught, then you think you can wave the wrong away with a feeble, 'I'm sorry.' Well, it doesn't work..."

"Please Mr..."

"Goddamn it, didn't I just tell you not to interrupt me!"

She stared at me with wide-eyed fear, and just nodded her head.

"Now, fucking with my head by the way you were dressing, or feeling me up in front of the office wasn't the worst thing you've done lately. No, the worst thing was you lied to me."

She was almost in tears, "When?! I've never lied to..."

"We sat in here on my first day, and I point-blank asked you what was your relationship with that monkey dick, Kendall, and you said there was nothing going on. Now, I'm hearing rumors that you and he were intimate."

"I didn't lie about that, you asked what my professional relationship was..."

Which was true, but I was having too much fun tormenting her to admit it.

"The hell I did. I asked about all manners of your relationship."

"No, No, you specifically asked what my working relationship was..."

"I don't remember it that way. See, you're just lying again to cover up a former lie."

Tears were running down her cheeks now, but she got indignant, "No, I'm not lying. Besides, even if it were true, I don't see where any of that would be your business."

What a condescending, pretentious, chubby, little cunt!

"It is my business when you're fucking him at work, or didn't Beatrice go over the ground rules on interoffice shenanigans when you were hired."

"What?"

"Don't play 'Little Miss Innocent' with me. You paid him to fuck you, right there on that couch. You like it from behind, and you really liked it when he insulted the shit out of you. It really gets you wet, and makes you feel like a horny, little, dirty girl, doesn't it?"

She didn't answer, but just stood motionless in front of my desk, dumbfounded that I could know so much about her personal behavior.

The fever gripped me.

Do it, Henry! In two seconds the chubby, little cunt will be begging you to fuck all her dripping holes.

As quick as a cobra strike, I shot out of my chair and took a firm hold of her hair at the top of her head.

Candice grabbed at my arm, and offered a feeble cry that no one would hear.

I sat back down, pulling her with me until she laid flat across my desk, her head and tits hanging over the edge. With my free hand, I unzipped my fly and pulled my semi-hard cock out of my pants.

"You asked last week if you could be my lucky girl," I said, laughingly as I stroked myself to full hardness, "Well bitch, open wide, because this is your lucky day."

She tried to pull away as I pulled her into to my groin. Her resistance didn't last long. The second she tasted me on her lips, she gave a heavy sigh, and opened her mouth as wide as she could.

The fever had gripped her as well.

She was an okay cocksucker, not nearly as good as I had imagined her from my visions, although what she lacked in technique she more than made up for in enthusiasm. Her lackluster performance wasn't her fault, really. Like most of the women in my life, Candice was having trouble opening her mouth wide enough to accept me—eyes too big for their stomach, pun intended. As such, this led to a lot of teeth scraping, jaw clenching, and choking when I rocked too far into her.

That was one he few drawbacks to having a big cock now—besides finding my drawers didn't have enough room in the crotch—I just couldn't get that all-encompassing,swallow that cock whole, bitch, sloppy blowjob anymore. I don't think it was my length as much as my girth. Women just couldn't open their mouths wide enough to avoid teething me.

Still having a good hold of her hair, I pulled her head back off me. Looking directly into her eyes, I said, "I admire your exuberance. I can tell you really like the taste of my cock, but you're going to have to be more careful with your teeth."

"I'm sorry, but you're too big for me."

"Bullshit, I've known girls half your size take my cock down to my nuts. You're just not trying."

Before she could protest, I quickly pulled her toward me, and rocked my cock far into her mouth. She started to choke, and copious amounts of her saliva flowed around and down my shaft.

"That's right, drool on that fat head," I encouraged her, as I rocked the chair faster, "The more saliva you put on my stick, the easier it will be to slide it down your throat."

I continued forcing myself deeper inside. Still more choking and teeth scraping.

I roughly pulled her back off me, making her wince at the pain from yanking on her hair, "Look, if you can't, at least, suck on my cockhead without me feeling your teeth, then we might as well forget it."

"No...," she tried to protest again, but I quickly threw her down on my cock before she could finish.

This time, I eased into her. She did better with a slower advance. There was less choking as I pushed in a little less than a fourth of the way, but she was still scraping my cockhead too much with her molars.

I pulled her head back off me. Long strings of saliva hung off her chin as she waited for me with her mouth open. I shook my head, while saying, "Nope, this just won't do, Peaches..."

A shocked look crossed he face, "Peaches? How did you know that was my family nickname?"

"Is it? Lucky guess, I guess. You look like a Peaches," I smiled over at her, while rocking myself back into her mouth.

She sucked on me a little better this time since I didn't push in very far—just enough to push the head past her lips I could tell she was really getting into it now, making cute little moans and 'yummy' sounds whenever she worked her tongue around my cockhead.

Now that she had a little room to move, tonguing was something she was very good at. She always putting enough pressure on that bulbous gland and along different spots to make it expand further in her mouth—getting it all red and purple with excitement as copious amounts of salty pre-ejaculate flowed freely onto her lips—yet not too much flicking for too long in one spot, where my cockhead could get oversensitive or even numb.

Besides poking at her mouth, I continued to poke her about her nickname, "What's round as an apple, sweet as a pear, has a slit down the middle and is covered with hair? Peaches!"

She pushed back hard while spitting me out of her mouth. This time, her shocked look turned to fear, "My daddy...My father always said that to me. How do you know these things?"

Standing up, I said, matter-of-factly, "I know a lot about you, Peaches."

She tried to get off the desk, but I held her down with a hand. Deftly, I slipped my other hand under her panties.

Sliding two fingers into her wet pussy, I said, "Like I know you have a low opinion of yourself, and you get off having men treat you that way. You have the perfect tits for fucking, and guys often beg you for a tit job, but you'd rather suck the guy off, instead. You like to swallow, but only if the guy makes you come first. You use it as a reward for the fellow if he's done a real good job on you. I know you don't like to fuck face-to-face, preferring it doggy style, hard and fast and kind of rough, a little slap here, a hard spank there. And you can almost come just by having a guy call you a chubby whore, or if he makes really snide comments about your big ass you want him to fuck. It makes you feel cheap and dirty, and gets you oh, so wet."