Boardroom Bitch Ch. 01

And with every thrust and every stroke, he imagined it was his mother he was fucking in the ass.

5

It was three o'clock in the afternoon and Vanessa was in paradise. Absolute paradise.

Well, technically, she was in the Ambassador Court hotel, a very swish establishment a couple of blocks away from her office; but it might as well have been heaven on earth. Her company had a handful of rooms on permanent retainer. They were used for a variety of reasons, mostly for the purposes of hospitality; entertaining clients, that sort of thing. But Vanessa sometimes took advantage of the facilities for other reasons.

She was in one of the executive suites, on the top floor of the building. She was sat at the foot of the very large bed in the main room, and she happened to be stark naked. Her legs were spread wide apart and a young woman was kneeling in front of her, her face buried in Vanessa's snatch. You couldn't really tell at that moment, what with her mouth being clamped to another woman's private parts, but the girl in question was gorgeous. She was a little bit taller than Vanessa and her long hair was brown rather than red. She too was naked and her tongue had been lapping away at Vanessa's cunt for nearly half an hour now. Not just her cunt. Vanessa had eased herself back on the bed a few times, lifting her body up, to allow a little light rimming to take place as well.

Cornucopia prided itself on the quality of its staff and that meant intense training in all matters, sexual or otherwise. Becoming an employee of this particular escort agency was arguably even more difficult than becoming a client. It was like a finishing school for sex workers. They would be taught etiquette and manners. They would be schooled on world events, so they could provide more stimulating conversation. And they were taught how to fuck. Only the finest physical specimens were taken on, and they were polished like a diamond until they were ready to service the customers.

Not that this specific young lady needed all that much polishing. She was a natural. A sexual savant. Her professional name was Celeste, but she was actually called Billie-Jo Haskell. Born and brought up in rural Kentucky, she had been fucking around for quite a while. She'd been fairly indiscriminate about who she fucked around with, and her roll call of sexual partners was long and varied. She'd been happy enough, on her back and on her knees, but then her younger sister fell pregnant, giving her a tremendous wake-up call. Billie-Jo decided she didn't want to become a young mother in some rural backwater. She was going to head west, to the big city, and make her fortune.

Although she had dropped out of school, she was certainly no dummy. She was smart enough to know if she was going to make some serious bank, it would have to be down to her looks. She was just a little too short and curvy to be a fashion model, but she reckoned there was a living to be made from her body, somehow. She'd thought about porn, but escorting seemed to be a more lucrative endeavour these days. The internet had ruined the adult entertainment business, but rich men (and rich women) would still pay big bucks to fuck someone exactly like Billie-Jo. She'd slept with plenty of people for free; why not do it with someone for lots and lots of cash?

Someone exactly like Vanessa Prudhomme in fact.

She'd been with her a few times now, both by herself and with other escorts, and she invariably enjoyed her time with the older woman. She was drop dead gorgeous for a start, with her thick, red hair, her striking blue eyes, her full lips and her sick, thicc body. Billie-Jo prided herself on her hourglass figure, but Ms Prudhomme made her look like an androgynous waif.

They'd met the first time at one of the occasional little soirées Cornucopia organised for escorts and clients. It was a sort of meet and greet affair - although, in this context, meat and greet might have seemed a bit more appropriate - where some of the more regular clientele would meet some of the more prized company assets. The party usually consisted of young women and older men, but Ms Prudhomme had been in attendance on this particular evening.

Billie-Jo had caught her eye early on, and pretty soon the two of them were deep in conversation. The to-and-fro was easy and spontaneous, both women shared a similar sense of humour, and there was clearly a mutual attraction. Vanessa was bisexual and Billie-Jo was essentially a full blown lesbian by now. She had taken a lot of cock in her relatively short life, but at some point down the line she had realised it was girls that really turned her on. Although she still fucked a lot of male clients, any private relationships she had managed to maintain were now exclusively with women.

The explicit point of these parties was to set up introductions between potential sellers and buyers. And that meant there had to be an opportunity to sample the goods. The clients were charged an entrance fee that was sizeable but not as big as the usual payment for a date. The escorts did receive some money, but it was not as generous as their usual remittance. But if you made a good impression, you could rely on plenty of future business. It's a bit like a drug dealer handing out a taster for free, knowing it's likely to encourage greater sales down the line.

Within half an hour or so the party was almost deserted. Most everyone had paired up and withdrawn to other private rooms. And that included Vanessa and Billie-Jo. Whilst cocks were being blown and tits were being sucked elsewhere in the building, the two women were getting to know each other better in a plush, wood-panelled study on the ground floor. Billie-Jo was bent over the desk and Vanessa was stood behind her, her fist buried up to the wrist in the younger woman's pussy.

There had been very little conversation once the door was closed behind them. Closed, but not locked. There was no key available to do so. In theory, anyone could walk in and catch them together. A fact that excited both of them. They embraced passionately, their bodies crushed together. There was a dark undertone to their behaviour, it was there from the moment they entered the room. For some reason, both of them wanted this encounter to be a little bit naughty. A little bit nasty.

"Open your mouth." Vanessa said.

Billie-Jo did as she was told, and as soon as she did so, Vanessa spat right into the gaping maw. The younger woman gasped for a second, but then smiled. She closed her lips and rolled the foreign saliva around for a while, adding plenty of her own, before kissing Vanessa and sharing their mixed fluids with her probing tongue.

"You're a dirty little bitch, then?" Billie-Jo said.

"The dirtiest you'll ever see."

"Good. Are you going to let me play with those gorgeous tits of yours?"

"Help yourself."

"I will."

So she did. She unbuttoned the older woman's blouse, revealing the most spectacular cleavage she had ever seen. Two giants orbs of creamy flesh, bound together by some black lace and elastic. Billie-Jo buried her face in those breasts, just rubbing her mouth and cheeks and nose and lips against the warm skin on offer. She looked up at Vanessa smiled.

"They're incredible." She said softly, as if she was in awe.

"You haven't tasted them yet." Vanessa replied.

Billie-Jo tugged on Vanessa's blouse and threw it onto the floor. Then she reached round and unclipped the hook on her bra. Suddenly the monsters were unleashed. Big fat tits, the barest sign of sagging. At their tips, thick rubbery nipples, hard and pulsing. Vanessa pushed them together, offering them on display to the younger woman.

"Lick them, whore."

Billie-Jo did exactly as she was told. She leant forward and wrapped her lips round one nipple, while tweaking the other with her fingers. She rubbed her tongue back and forth across the pebbly flesh, then sucked furiously. Vanessa brushed her hair gently as the gorgeous escort suckled at her teat. Then she took hold of her and moved her round, so she was now facing the desk.

"Bend over. Lift up your skirt." Vanessa said.

Once again, Billie-Jo did exactly as ordered. She was a whore, a high-class whore, and she knew to follow any and all instructions a client, or in this case potential future client, gave her. Although, at this precise moment in time, she would've done anything Vanessa wanted, client or not. She was too turned on to do anything else. She was wearing a very short, very tight mini-dress, not dissimilar to the sort of outfit Vanessa had been wearing the night she first had sex with Charlie Lowen. Unlike then, Billie-Jo was wearing panties, although they only just qualified as such. She had on a positively indecent black g-string, a tiny strand of material pulled taut between her buttocks. Vanessa peeled the item of clothing off, the wetness of Bille-Jo's gash causing some resistance as her sticky cunt clung to the material. Eventually, she stepped out of the small pair of panties. Vanessa brought them to her face and inhaled deeply. Then she rolled them into a ball and stuffed them into Billie-Jo's mouth.

"That should keep you quiet." Vanessa said, before burying her face in the younger woman's pussy.

For five or ten minutes or so, she alternated between cunt and ass, licking and sucking and probing with her tongue. What felt like gallons of sexual fluids squirted and dribbled out of Billi-Jo's vagina. Her legs were soaked from all the cum she was producing. She had orgasmed half a dozen times or more. Vanessa brought her hand up and began slipping her fingers inside. First one, then two, then three, and so on. Finally, with relative ease, her entire hand was inside Billie-Jo's sopping pussy. Vanessa licked her anus, as her fist pulsed and clenched inside the gorgeous escort's twat. Like a waterfall, she erupted, cumming again and again, squirting her juices all over the desk and the floor.

Whoever worked there during the daytimes would almost certainly have to contend with the smell of professional sex-worker the next morning; but, knowing the kind of establishment this was, that was unlikely to come as much of a surprise.

The two women's most recent encounter was turning out to be a considerably more sedate affair. Billie-Jo, or Celeste, very much looked forward to any contact with Ms Prudhomme, but Vanessa only rarely dabbled in sapphic activity, so their meetings were relatively few and far between. Ultimately, she liked cock more than cunt.

But here they were nonetheless. Vanessa softly caressing the younger woman's hair, as she went about her work. Billie-Jo was a world-class pussy-lapper, and she took her time tending to her client's private parts. All the time, she stared intently up at her, never breaking eye contact with this amazing older woman she was becoming increasingly obsessed with.

"Good girl, you're doing an amazing job." Vanessa said, almost in a patronising tone.

Billie-Jo's heart leaped at the compliment, whatever the level of sincerity on offer. She was essentially a people pleaser, so she adored any little scraps of confirmation that were thrown her way. She redoubled her efforts and began licking with greater intensity.

"Come here, I want to taste myself." Said Vanessa, as she pulled the other woman onto the bed next to her. She slowly began licking Billie-Jo's sticky wet face, savouring the tangy bite of her own arousal. "You've done such a good job, my sweet little whore."

"Thank you, Mommy." Billie-Jo whispered. She'd been calling her Mommy from perhaps the second or third time they'd been together. She had no idea about Vanessa's unusual issues with her son, in fact she didn't even know if she had any children, but it had just felt right to her, using that title. Vanessa had never objected.

"You've got such a long and amazing tongue, baby girl."

"Thank you. You've got such smooth skin. Do you shave of wax?"

"Laser." Vanessa replied. "It costs a fortune and you have to do it more often than you might imagine. But I can't abide body hair, and it feels wonderful."

"It sure does."

"I can get you an appointment if you want. Although you're cunt is lovely and smooth already."

"Thank you, Mommy. I get myself waxed regularly. All my clients expect me to be as smooth as silk down there. I imagine they'd all freak out if I grew as much as a single pubic hair."

Vanessa reached out and placed the palm of her hand on Billie-Jo's twat. She stroked it gently, cupping it with a sense of proprietary glee.

"Did you bring any toys?"

"Of course."

"Why don't you strap something on for me? I'll be waiting here, on my hands and knees."

"Ok, Mommy. Do you want me to fuck you in the cunt or in the ass?"

"Why not both?"

Billie-Jo clambered off the bed and almost skipped across the room to her bag, her naked body a picture of perfection as she moved. She picked up the bag and started rummaging through it, before pulling out a large dildo with a harness. She began attaching it to her body, as Vanessa rearranged herself on the sheets. Billie-Jo looked almost comical as she walked back towards her, a giant pink dong swaying in front of her. But there was no laughing as she slammed the plastic prick inside her.

Vanessa had spent a lot of money on escorts in the last few weeks, even more than usual. But then she'd been even more horny than usual too. Ever since that night. Ever since she and her son had almost kissed each other. He had left her in the kitchen and drove away. After her little session of self abuse on the floor, she had finally gotten washed and gone to bed. She hadn't slept all that much. The interaction with Vincent had unnerved her. It had excited her too.

She had felt his hardness pressed against her. She had seen the desire in his eyes. She would have let him have her, then and there. She knew that. Without a doubt. Up against the fridge. Bent over a counter. His dick inside her. Then his cum. Yes, he was her son; but so what? Vanessa was fundamentally amoral in nature, she believed in pleasure and desire. In truth, the fact he was her son only added an extra frisson of excitement.

Incest sounded kind of hot.

She'd admonished herself a little in recent times, due to the growing sexual fascination she had harboured for Vincent, but she'd only really be going through the motions. Now that she realised he might be interested in her, a whole set of new opportunities were appearing.

She needed to think. And then she needed to speak to her son. She had barely seen him since that night. He'd been avoiding her, keeping out of the way. That was okay. She wanted time to consider her options. But soon she would be having a very important conversation with her only child.

As Billie-Jo increased the intensity of her fucking, Vanessa's mind drifted off into a realm of pure carnal pleasure. All thoughts of her son momentarily absent and obscured.

6

Vincent was also working up a sweat. In the gym.

He was pummelling away at a treadmill, listening to some music on his phone. His body was in the grip of the rhythmic hypnosis of high intensity exercise. His muscles were pulsing, his skin was glowing, his breath was heavy. He was feeling the burn. He'd spent much of the last hour lifting weights, but now he wanted a long run to clear his head.

The room was fairly quiet, there were only a handful of other people nearby. It was mid-morning on a weekday, so the number of aspiring, perspiring wannabe athletes was low. There were a couple of older guys riding exercise bikes and there was a young-ish woman on a rowing machine. Vincent had definitely noticed her when he started his workout. He estimated she was in her mid-twenties. She was tall, with long legs, a reasonable bust and long dark hair up in a ponytail. She was wearing the usual skintight lycra of the modern female gym attendee.

If he had noticed her, she had noticed him as well. The two of them had made eye contact a few times in the last thirty minutes or so, and they had shared fleeting smiles. Wasn't that half the fun of going to the gym? Especially around here. Young, attractive people with fit, slim bodies, showing themselves off? Admiring the view?

I wonder if I could convince her to let me fuck her in the shower, he thought to himself. Those long legs wrapped round him as he plowed away at her tight gash. The hot water cascading down on them as they kissed. Her naked breasts in his hands, in his mouth. His cum shooting inside her.

Not that he was going to do anything about it. No sir. He was in a faithful relationship and he prided himself on always scrupulous about monogamy. He loved Alice and wouldn't cheat on her. He didn't mind looking though. He was a guy after all. More to the point, and this was something he didn't realise, he was Charlie Lowen's son. His father would have had no qualms about banging this girl, and would already be trying to seduce her. But Vincent was better than that. At least that's what he believed.

Anyway, he had Alice and she was servicing his needs without complaint at the moment. Since the unusual incident with his mother, he had spent most of the time at Alice's place. And that meant there had been a lot of fucking going on. They were young and horny, so sex was already a big part of their relationship; but since his encounter with Vanessa, he had been fucking for his country.

All day and all night he had been pounding away at her cunt and her ass. She'd been struggling to walk straight due to the punishment he'd been giving her. And every time, every single time, he had imagined it was his mother he was fucking. That infuriating woman. He had felt guilty about his behaviour, he really had. He loved his girlfriend and he found her very attractive, but there was just something about Vanessa that excited him in a way he couldn't really comprehend.

Vincent was still checking out the hot chick in the skintight lycra when his phone buzzed. He assumed it was a message from Alice, but the ID said Mom. What the fuck did she want?

Hi Honey, are you free this afternoon? The message said. She didn't often call him Honey. Something was up.

What do you want, Mom? He replied.

I'd like to talk to you. Can you come to my office this afternoon?

He thought about this for a while. In truth, he didn't want to see her. In truth, he did want to see her more than anything else. But he knew he shouldn't. There would probably be an argument. He would probably lose his temper. Something might happen.

I don't know, I'm quite busy. What's this about? He typed.

I need to discuss this face to face. Are you free?

He thought about it for a second or two. No, he didn't want to confront her, but he couldn't avoid her forever.

Okay. I'll be there in an hour or two.

He stepped off the treadmill and walked towards the changing rooms, when the dark-haired girl stopped him.

"Hi." She said.

"Uh, hi." He replied. Her skin was flushed, her nipples were hard. She brushed a strand of hair behind her ear and she was biting her bottom lip. She was even better looking up close than she was from the other side of the room.