Some would say, I suppose, that I had it coming. That I had gotten a little too big for my boots, too arrogant, too cocksure.
But hey, as a young (in my late thirties) CEO of a successful company, with a salary to match, I hadn't got to where I was by making life easy for those around me. And I had needed a certain level of controlled aggression to achieve success.
Maybe I should have realised that something was up when Candy, my PA, handed in her notice. I was going to miss her. She was really good at her job for one thing; but, for another, I was really going to miss her sweet lips around the swollen head of my cock.
Given my working commitments I did not have a wife, or even a Girlfriend, and had persuaded myself that, in any event, I probably could not have kept either one happy. My PA was the only sexual outlet I had, apart from my own hands. Mind you, I was careful not to let her know that.
I don't remember quite how it started, but I do know that one day, after a particularly successful and difficult deal, the dark thought entered my brain that I wanted to celebrate rather specifically, by making her taste my come. I wanted to spunk down the back of her pretty neck; and once that thought was there, I just couldn't shake it.
I guess that the testosterone must have been flowing. That's my only excuse, because instead of a nice dinner, a bottle of champagne, a traditional, romantic, seduction, well, I just walked into her office and stood, you know, really close, as she typed at her machine.
It was probably pretty obvious what I was after, but just in case, I put a hand on her shoulder; she turned, bringing her eye and jaw line right into line with my, by now, swelling cock.
She looked up, meeting my lust filled eyes. I think she kinda knew what was about to happen. Our relationship had always been one of good humoured banter, sometimes sexual, sometimes not. I did not know if she had a boyfriend, although Candy was certainly attractive enough to have taken her pick. In that look I thought I saw an understanding of a new level in our relationship.
I put one hand on my belt buckle and with the other unzipped my fly. My cock continued to swell, tenting the front of my trousers. She looked at me once more, what I took to be a half smile playing on her red lips, and then reached into my trousers with her manicured hand and released my beast.
I have a big cock, especially when it's hard. Candy's fingers traced up my length and then down, her eyes then found mine. She wasn't fazed by my size. She licked her lips and her lipstick gleamed. She closed her eyes and opened her mouth, slipping my cockhead slowly over her lips. Her mouth was hot, and wet and she had a sweet and active tongue.
Before long I reached behind her head, pulling myself deeper into her throat. She tilted her head to accommodate me. Her hair was soft to the touch, Her skin gentle. The contrast with my own hardness charged the situation even more.
I began to piston in and out of her mouth, slipping further into her throat. At one point I removed my cock and then lifted my balls into her mouth, making her suck gently, oh so gently, on them.
Then, the moment for gentleness gone, I was on her tongue once, sliding in and out, until I could bear it no more and I came, thrusting and pumping, both of my hands clasping her head, controlling the moment I spurted into her throat.
Like a picture in my mind, I can still remember clamping her head further onto my pole, her throat constricting as she swallowed my seed. She didn't gag, she didn't falter. She was really rather good at it.
Afterwards, neither of us said a word. She cleaned me, and I zipped up. As I left the room, I saw that she was dabbing at her soiled makeup with a tissue.
Over the next six months the same scene, or a slight variation of it, was played whenever I felt the urge. We never discussed it. It was never alluded to; but I found that whenever I needed some release it was to her hot, and seemingly willing, mouth that I turned. Even now, the thought of just taking her mouth like this makes me hard.
So, maybe, I should not have been surprised when she handed in her notice; but I was. She hadn't seemed upset, in fact she seemed quite willing and had worked harder for me since this new element had entered our relationship.
There was little I could say when she told me that she was going; my position meant that I could not reveal to her the extent of my need. In her efficient way Candy had even interviewed and found a replacement, saving me the trouble.
Frances, she told me, with a wink, would be starting the following Monday.
Frances turned out be something of a surprise. My work was done as efficiently as ever, there was a good deal of banter, sexual and otherwise. The thing that surprised me, and finally got me to think that Candy may not have been as into sucking on my cock as I may have thought is that Frances turned out to be male, and preferred to be addressed as Frank.
Candy probably thought that she had the last laugh but Frank turned out to be not only an efficient PA but someone who had the ability to get me out of the rut of my working life a bit more. He had an easy charm with all that he spoke to but was also clearly used to getting his own way. I was able to let him deal with some of my more difficult work with confidence.
Not only that, but he had a sort of magnetism, a presence, that people just seemed to gravitate to. He was a natural leader. From a business and personal point of view I could see that he could be an asset.
Even I had to admit that he was very good looking. He had a handsome face, an athlete's body, and the humour to match. I did not usually notice such things in a man, but I assumed that this was because we were working so closely together. Certainly I noticed the effect that he had on some of the secretaries at work, who would openly flirt with him in a way that they never had with me.
We ended up going out for a few drinks at a local bar occasionally, and after a while this turned into quite a regular thing. It was not something that I had done before - I had been too busy working, but somehow he talked me into it. The bar was one of those places with live music and a lot of young people meeting up before their big night out.
In the bar our roles were slightly reversed. Frank was a bit of a 'face' there and it was clear that when we were in the bar we were on his territory. The staff, and many of the customers seemed to know him and more than once he left with a group of friends containing some willing looking females.
Of course, I wasn't getting any other sort of release beyond what ever porn I could rent from the local store and my own willing hands. The bar was not quite the sort of place I was used to, and I certainly wasn't approaching any of the clientele, some of whom were my own staff.
I enjoyed it in the bar though; being Frank's 'friend' meant that I got a little kudos just by being in his company, and I had to admit when he turned on the charm I could understand why the secretaries began to melt in his presence. The moments when he left were always a bit like the life going out of the party.
One night in the bar we got talking, lubricated by the alcohol, and Frank began to tease me about my seeming lack of any meaningful relationship.
I was stung by this and retorted by telling him that I was used to getting what I wanted, when I wanted it.
'You mean like you used to do with Candy' he said.
I was stunned. Clearly Candy had told him a lot more than I had realised.
He slapped me on the shoulder, smiling broadly, 'Don't worry, your secret's safe with me.'
As he smiled at me I felt my reserve relax. I smiled back, 'Well, yes. Just like I used to do with Candy.' And we both laughed.
This was an intimate moment and we both seemed to sense it. He put his arm around my shoulders. I could still feel the sting on my arm where he had playfully slapped me and now his grip let me know just how strong he was.
He leaned closely in to my ear, 'She told me that you had a big one.'
Again I was shocked. I was in unknown territory and really unsure as to where this conversation was going. He leaned in again. 'So have I' he said.
I really hadn't expected him to say that.
Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the sudden new intimacy of the moment, or his arm gripping me but I suddenly found myself imagining Frank with a hard-on, pushing it into a soft willing mouth.
Had he done the same as I had to Candy?
His lips were close to my ear, his breath suddenly felt hot on my cheek. It was shocking to realise but I was beginning to feel aroused by his closeness and his strength. I had to turn away, before I was betrayed by the stirring of my own cock at the thought of his stiffness entering Candy's warm lips.
He was strong though, and before I could entirely escape from his grasp he said, 'Tomorrow. I'll show you tomorrow.'
Frank left soon afterwards with his usual crowd. He threw a last glance at me and smiled as he walked out of the door. I was drunk, I was alone, and I was horny. Before I even consciously realised what I was doing I found that I was in the toilet cubicle wanking my stiff cock over the bowl.
It wasn't the less than salubrious toilet that was in my mind though. I had images of another stiff man's cock burned into my imagination, of lips and tongues kissing and licking hardened flesh.
My normal demeanour had gone - I had even undone my shirt and was squeezing hard on my nipples, teasing them, adding a little pain to the pleasure.
Someone knocked on the door. I came to my senses, zipped up, prepared to leave. I must have looked pretty dishevelled, I didn't have time to tuck my shirt in properly, and my hard-on was still making it's presence felt.
As I opened the door I was really surprised to find Frank was outside. He did not say anything, just pushed me back with one arm; God, he was strong.
He grunted, 'Couldn't wait.' His voice was thick with authority and lust.
I fell back on to the toilet, all will to resist seemed to have left me. My mind filled with wonder as to what was going to happen now.
'You want to see it.' He said. It was a statement, not a question. I couldn't say anything. My own cock, somehow, was still hard, and to my bewilderment getting harder.
He put his hand on his fly. I could see that his cock was just beginning to grow too. There was a bulge beginning to push out the front of his trousers. It was soon obvious what he had meant about his own size.
'Ask', he said, before adding, 'Nicely.' Or at least I thought that's what I remember. My mind was awash with my own hidden desires, with images surging forward from my sub-conscious.
My voice trembled. 'Show me', I said. 'Please.' His hand did not move. He did not say anything but the tension between us was heavily intense. I was about to cross into new territory.
'Please, show me your..... your, cock.' I could barely get the words out.
Slowly he unzipped his trousers. His dick practically sprang out. It was big, and getting bigger. He pulled on it lasciviously. God, it was bigger than mine. I could see that almost immediately. He even pulled his balls out too. They were shaved. They looked heavy, like they were full of spunk.
He stepped in towards me, working his hardness, teasing the tip; then giving long hard strokes to the shaft. I couldn't take my eyes of it. I licked my lips. They were dry. Or at least that's what I told myself.
Excitement fluttered in my stomach.
My hand found my own cock through my trousers. I squeezed the head. I was as hard as he was. Oh God. I don't think I have ever been as hard as I was at that moment.
His crotch was only an inch away from my face. He was holding his cock straight up, pointing it at the ceiling so that I could appreciate the girth and the length of it. His skin was perfect. Veins visible, pumping blood to where there was most need.
I began kneading my cock through my trousers, in response, callously, he slapped the side of my face with his hardness. He wasn't gentle. He was enjoying my shock and discomfort. Even then I couldn't help but try to mouth him.
In my mind I was reeling, but my body was responding. My mouth was wide with the need for him to fill it.
He teased me. He kept moving his shaft so that I could not quite reach him, and then slapping his cockhead against me once again. All through this he watched as I groped my own stiffness, wanking myself through my trousers like some desperate, dirty, old man.
It made him laugh. He grabbed my hair, hard, pulling it.
Frank pushed his cock into my mouth, and I welcomed him. I moaned. My tongue flickered around it. Sliding, lubricating him, just like a pussy.
I wanted him to treat my mouth just like that, to drink him in, and finally taste him.
I moaned my gratitude. He laughed again.
He was hurting me deliberately, pulling me on to him by my hair, then taking his cock out of my mouth and sliming my own saliva onto my cheeks and nose - wiping himself on my face.
He even put his shaved balls into my mouth, just as I had done to Candy, and I slavered over them, like a cock hungry whore, as if I couldn't get enough.
'You are going to be my own personal cocksucker', he said. And I nodded agreement, bobbing my wet lips onto his skin.
Frank put the head of his cock to my lips then, and I knew he was going to push me to my limit. I don't know how, but I was able to take his considerable length. I thought it would never stop, but once he knew I was not going to gag he began to fuck my mouth. Hard and fast.
He built up his rhythm, and after a short while I could hear him start gasping. This pleased me. I was getting to him as much as he was to me. I redoubled my efforts. I was desperate to taste his come.
'Cockslut,' he said.
I moaned again; my own cock was ready to shoot. In my head I was agreeing with him, begging him to spurt. In that moment, in that toilet I was his cock slut and I would have done anything that he asked. He knew it and we were both loving it.
I felt him swelling even more on my tongue. The head of his cock began to throb - I knew he wasn't far away from filling my mouth. A dribble of pre-cum seeped onto my tongue - suddenly I knew what his spunk would taste like. I wanted it, and moaned louder, urging him to jet his seed into me.
At the last moment he pulled himself further down my throat. I clasped his butt cheeks and then, wanting to drive him on, put the tip of my finger up has ass.
It was enugh to send him over the edge. I tasted one spurt, and another.
Oh, it was good. I had never felt like this, never expected anything like this, yet here I was groaning in joy as Frank's spunk pumped into me.
My own cock began to shoot, leaking my own juices through my clothes. He pulled out and shot the rest of his load over my face and onto my shirt, shouting, 'Cocksucker!' as he did so.
It went into my mouth and into my hair. I didn't care, and neither did he.
Then, without a word, he zipped up his trousers and left me there, in a toilet that smelt of piss, with his come in me - on me - and over my clothes. As my own hardness faded a spasm from my wilting cock caused a last dribble of spunk to start it's journey down my trouser leg.
Frank had changed my life, because I knew I wanted more, and was scared at where this would lead.
I left the bar, quietly, hoping that no-one would notice; all the same, I could have sworn that I saw Candy in there, dancing and laughing with some of the girls from the office.