Henry McLeod's Exploits Pt. 04

FRIDAY EVENING

When I arrive back in my apartment complex, I see Monique in the hallway. She sees me and smiles, her afro bouncing as she walks towards me.

"Hi, Daddy," she says. "I saw the fat bitch you had come over. Why do you need some overweight white girl when you can have me however you want?"

"She's my secretary, Monique," I say, rolling my eyes. "Besides, you know very well that I have lots of women. Don't get jealous."

"A few weeks ago I saw someone come by in a dress, but it wasn't no 'woman,'" she says scathingly. "But I get it, Daddy. You do who you want, when you want. Just figured you'd have higher standards, is all."

"If you want more of my attention, then you can try to earn it the next time I have you over," I explain. Monique is a top performer in all aspects of her life. She is continuously striving for excellence. If she wants motivation, why not give her a good sense of competition?

"Fine." She huffs, turning back into her own apartment. The door shuts loudly. I'd be more concerned about her reaction, but I already have a lot on my mind. Tonight has to go well, and then it will be immediately followed by the softball game, where I'll be attempting to do a dozen things at once. An eighteen-year-old's jealousy is the least of my worries.

I reach into my pocket, then remember that I gave my key to Jenny. I knock on my door. I hear some movement inside, then after a few moments, the door opens a crack. I push into my apartment.

Greeting me is Jenny, wearing a silk, peach colored lingerie set. Leggings, a garter belt, panties and bra all perfectly matching and accentuating her voluptuous curves. Her hair is curled and her makeup is elegant. She kneels at the door, her hands in her lap. Her arms press her enormous breasts together, on top of which sits a tumbler of amber scotch.

"Welcome home, sir," Jenny says.

I enjoy power. I suppose that comes as no surprise, but it remains true. Authority is more elating than drugs or alcohol ever could be. Hell, a large portion of my sexual encounters are satisfying because of the power it gives me. Having a confident woman debase herself, making a person with a penis moan like a bitch in heat, or watching a person submit sexually to someone they're related to are all such thrills that stoke my ego beyond the mere physical pleasure. I doubt that I will ever be considered a 'good' person, but I am a powerful person. In this world, which is better?

As such, I enjoy keeping Jenny on her knees before me. After shutting the door, I remove my suit jacket, loosen my tie, and slip into my house shoes before grasping the scotch off her bosom. To her great credit, she doesn't move a muscle. Jenny keeps demonstrating that I was right to make her mine. My only regret is that I didn't do it sooner.

"What will we be having for dinner?" I ask, sipping the scotch as I walk into my apartment.

"I've prepared lamb in a mint sauce, it's cooking now and will be ready at 8:45. To go with it, I've made sautéed vegetables and a creamy potato puree. There is also a salad sitting in the refrigerator to start, and a cheesecake in the freezer. All made from scratch, sir." Jenny is clearly proud of her efforts, which have taken a surprisingly short amount of time. I'm impressed.

"Well done, Jenny," I say, moving to the couch where I fucked Monique the night before. "Come sit with me."

The redhead hurries to join me on the couch, sitting next to me so that her smooth, soft thigh is pressing against my pants.

"I'm impressed with you, Jenny," I say, sipping my scotch as I put my arm around her. "You are doing an excellent job. Before today, you were a great secretary, but now I'm glad that you've become so much more. I'm sure dinner will be excellent."

"Thank you, Mr. McLeod," Jenny says with a self-deprecating laugh. "Just leave it to the fat girl to do the cooking!"

"Don't ever use that word to describe yourself again." I scowl. "You said it at lunch too. It's reductive, and you are much more than that. Your weight has very little to do with your value to me."

"Yes, sir." Jenny says, clearly cowed. Her expression makes me soften a bit.

"I don't mean for that to be difficult, Jenny," I say, rubbing her creamy shoulder. "You aren't skinny, but that doesn't mean you need to insult yourself. Your body is quite enjoyable just as it is."

"Do you...do you really think so?" She asks, her voice a breathy whisper.

I pull her into a kiss.

"I do." I say, my hand going to her ass. "I find you very attractive. But it's also more than that. As my secretary, my girl, whatever term you'd like to use, you are an extension of me. The things you do on my behalf are meaningful, and making light of them by making fun of yourself diminishes their meaning. You made Gerald Fife cum so quickly not because you're fat, but because you're great at sucking cock. And you've made this delicious meal not because you're fat, but because you're a great cook. I said in the car that you don't give yourself enough credit, and I meant it."

Jenny wipes a tear from her eye.

"T-thank you, sir," she says, her voice cracking. "That...no one has ever talked to me like that. I...you...I love you, sir."

I smile.

"I know that's weird!" Jenny says as she hurries to justify herself. "I know that isn't what normal people say. You're my boss, and we've only fooled around a bit, so I totally get that it's a batshit crazy thing to say! But...it's also true. No one has ever treated me the way you do. I'm sure that there are lots of women who would consider it degrading, but not me. I like having a purpose. Doing things that make a person's life better. And you give me that. And the fact that you acknowledge it...it's just really special."

"It's definitely weird," I say with a smile. "But it's a weird dynamic, isn't it? I doubt there are many people cooking dinners for their boss so that he can knock his boss up."

Jenny laughs. It's a sweet, lilting laugh. It sounds nice.

"Well, if Mrs. Myers wants a baby, I can't imagine anyone better suited to give her one, sir." She says demurely. "But I'd happily cook every meal for you from now on. And you can do literally anything you want to my body. Like I said earlier, you can piss on me, you can beat the shit out of me, anything you want. I trust you, Mr. McLeod."

"Those types of things aren't my typical modus operandi," I say, reaching my arm around to grope one of her immense breasts. "So how about you get on your knees and fuck me with these massive tits instead?"

Jenny doesn't say a word, sliding to her knees and moving between my legs. She quickly pulls her tits out of her bra, her pale nipples barely visible surrounded by her freckled skin. She unzips my pants, fishing my hard cock out. Sipping my scotch, I lean my head back while Jenny sandwiches my veiny meat between her breasts. She spits on my cock, then slowly begins to work her tits up and down my shaft.

"Tell me more about your mother," I say, looking down at Jenny.

"I could tell that turned you on, sir," She says with a sly grin. "My mother is gigantic. She always has been, as far back as I can remember. She is very self-conscious about it, and I think she felt guilty when I got older and it was clear that I was going to be a bigger woman too. I think that's partly why she started fucking me. She really did want to teach me how to survive in a world where I would be judged for my looks before anything else. I think she wanted to give me a skill set that I would be able to show people. Something that would make me useful beyond just my size. Maybe she thought that people wouldn't make fun of me as much if I could make them cum?"

I moan as her breasts perfectly massage my cock, basking in the soft, pillowy warmth of her body.

"Well, you're certainly excellent at making me cum," I grunt. "Do you think she's a lesbian?"

Jenny ponders that question for a moment as her tits slide up and down my cock.

"She never talked much about my father, but she was never married to him, whoever he was. And she never had any boyfriends either. She had a few female friends that she was close with over the years, but I was probably too young to recognize if any of them were lovers. So...maybe? I don't know. I just know that once she started fucking me, it was like a part of her was awakened. She was just more...everything, if that makes sense. And I could tell that she was holding herself back. She never had me touch her pussy, even though I could tell she wanted me to."

"Did you want to?" I ask.

"Yes." Jenny looks me in the eyes, her green eyes filled with intention. "I wanted to make her feel good. I wanted to give her pleasure. She was teaching me so many things about how to satisfy people, but I wanted to satisfy her too."

"Did you ask her about booking a flight here?"

"She said that she can get here Monday afternoon," Jenny explains.

"I'd like to fuck the two of you together while she's here, Jenny," I say, reaching down and squeezing her breasts. "I especially want to fuck you while you eat her pussy."

"Then that's what I'll do, sir" Jenny says with a devilish smile. "I'll never say 'no' to you."

I feel myself approaching orgasm. I lean my head back again. Jenny, sensing that I'm close, begins to move her tits up and down faster. When I start to cum, her brilliant smile lights up her face. My cum shoots in long, thick strands, landing on her cheek, her chin, and even in her hair before dripping down onto her massive breasts.

"That will always be exciting for me," she says, leaning down to lick my slit clean.

"Come sit next to me, Jenny," I say, patting the couch. "Let's watch something together before Veronica arrives."

We cuddle on the couch for a while, watching a movie on television. It's not something that I often do with my conquests. Usually, I fuck, and then one of us leaves. I don't see much of a point in maintaining 'normal' relationships with them. But with Jenny, it feels good to have her next to me, even doing something as mundane as watching television.

Soon, it's time for Jenny to make her final dinner preparations. She goes to the kitchen, looking a bit comical as she busies herself with kitchen tasks in cum-soaked lingerie. But as she puts the finishing touches on everything, it all looks and smells delicious. The table is set, and she is popping open a bottle of wine when the doorbell rings.

"You get it," I tell her, standing.

"Yes, sir." Jenny says, a playful smile across her face. "Let's knock this bitch up!"

Jenny rushes to the door, fixing her hair briefly. My cum is dried on her skin and lingerie, but she seems more interested in showing it off than concealing it. With a big breath, she opens the door.

"Good evening, Mrs. Myers," Jenny says.

"Oh, Jesus Fucking Christ!" Veronica storms in. "Henry, what the fuck is this shit?!"

Veronica stands in the entrance to my apartment, wearing a long, tan trench coat and holding a duffle bag. Her makeup is superb, and her hair has been styled since she left the office. She's clearly put a lot of time and energy into her appearance tonight.

My dynamic with Veronica is difficult to encapsulate. She berates me, and I think that she truly does think that I'm an asshole. She's not wrong, either. I'm often surprised that anyone genuinely likes me. Veronica also likes to protest about our sexual encounters as well, often calling them 'rape,' and although the idea of getting raped definitely turns her on, I get the feeling that she truly wishes she didn't like having sex with me. And yet, here she is.

"My secretary wanted to assist us in our evening meeting," I say with a wry smile. "She cooked us dinner, and will be around the entire night to provide whatever support we may need."

"Wipe that shit-eating grin off your face, you prick," Veronica huffs. She drops her bag to the floor and rubs her temples. "You told your god damn secretary about this?! Are you out of your mind?!"

"You told Nguyen and Kowalski," I shrug. "I figure turnabout is fair play."

"You are such an arrogant piece of shit!" Veronica groans. "'Turnabout is fair play?!' What? Did you read one book one time and now use outdated aphorisms to impress college girls?"

Veronica walks over to the wet bar and pours herself a large glass of pure vodka, then downs it in one frantic gulp. She pours another, and gives it a sip before turning back to me.

"This was supposed to be a secret," she growls.

"And yet, you were the first one to tell other people," I say, staring her down.

"They...that is...fuck you!" she splashes her vodka in my face. The liquid burns my eyes, causing me to grunt and turn away, wiping them with my tie. I shake my head, then turn back to my boss, my eyes bloodshot.

"Jenny is trustworthy," I say, trying to keep the anger out of my voice. "And she's prepared a delicious meal for us. As it happens, she actually wants you to be able to get pregnant. Isn't that right, Jenny?"

Jenny, who had been standing silently in the entrance since she welcomed Veronica into the apartment, nods.

"Yes, sir," she turns her attention to Veronica. "You would be a wonderful mother, Mrs. Myers. And if there's any way that I can help bring about your little miracle, it would be a true joy."

"Son of a bitch," Veronica breathes. She paces around the kitchen table, her empty tumbler pressed against her forehead. She occasionally glances at me, or at Jenny, then goes back to pacing. After a few long moments, she turns to face me.

"I fucking hate you, Henry." She says flatly. Then, she reaches for the belt around her trench coat, and unfastens it. She slides the garment off her shoulders, revealing a stunning set of black lingerie. She wears the same pieces as Jenny: stockings, garter, bra, and panties, but hers are of much more intricate design. Her large, fake breasts and wide hips are perfectly accentuated by the outfit. She may be in her forties, but she is still a knockout. She glares at me, then takes a seat at the table.

"What is for dinner, Jenny?" She asks, even giving my secretary a conciliatory smile.

As Jenny describes the meal, I take the seat across from Veronica. I reach for the bottle of wine, pouring glasses for Veronica and myself. My boss grabs her glass, chugs the wine down, then hands it back to me. Jenny reaches for the salad bowl, offering to serve Veronica.

The meal is excellent, but it is enjoyed in almost total silence. The clatter of utensils against the plates is one of the only sounds throughout the meal. Jenny serves us each in turn, clears our finished plates, and refills our drinks. When she's not serving, the secretary stands silently by the kitchen.

I try to make my moves calculated. I put emphasis and intent behind all the things that I do for my job. With the other partners, it usually means being as assertive and capable as possible. Veronica, too, seems to enjoy those aspects of my character, though she often pretends otherwise. Tonight, however, seems to have been a legitimate misstep. I am no fortune teller, but I'd venture to guess that this evening will be one of the last that Veronica and I spend together. I think I've pushed her too far.

As Jenny clears the dessert plates, Veronica finishes another glass of vodka. She sets the glass down, then looks at me. She sighs.

"You are a cruel person, Henry," she says. "You just...you got one tiny little ounce of leverage over me and you exploited it for all its fucking worth. You knew that I wanted a baby, and I won't deny that I enjoyed the prospect of it being your baby, instead of my pathetic husband's, and you... Fuck! You stuck a fucking knife in me. You are a rat bastard, Henry McLeod."

She stands, walking over to me. Her body sways seductively. She straddles me in my chair, then grabs a handful of my hair, yanking it roughly.

"You're going to give me this god damn baby tonight," she explains. "And then I'm fucking done with you."

She stands, then immediately shoves me. I go tumbling backwards out of my chair, falling to the floor. Veronica stands over me with a smirk. Then she looks at Jenny.

"Dinner was delicious, sweetie," she says with a flirtatious wink. "I think it's time that I gave you something to eat in return."

"Yes, ma'am." Jenny smiles.

Veronica takes the larger woman's hand and walks with her to the bedroom. I push myself to a standing position and follow. Inside the bedroom, Veronica sits on the foot of the bed, her hands on Jenny's hips.

"You're submissive?" She asks my secretary, who nods. "Good. I like a girl who's eager to please. Kneel."

Jenny quickly drops to her knees between Veronica's legs, looking up at the older woman for further instructions. Veronica, however, is making eye contact with me.

"You walk around the office like your cock cures fucking cancer," she says, her voice tinged with menace. "It's good, don't get me wrong. You've got great genes. But you're a god damn narcissistic piece of shit."

I remain silent, standing in the door frame.

"Be a good girl and eat my cunt," Veronica commands, grabbing Jenny's flaming red hair and shoving her face between her legs. Jenny quickly moves Veronica's panties to the side, then starts to lap hungrily at the older woman's slit. And still, Veronica maintains eye contact with me.

"There's something that I've always wanted," Veronica explains. "My big, secret fetish that I'd be ashamed to tell a soul. The only other person I've ever told about it was my college boyfriend, and he was too intimidated at the prospect to ever give it to me. I'm sure you're thinking it's a rape kink. I've definitely got that, but I've indulged in it plenty of times. Hell, I've even made it a part of our sex. No, my deeper craving is for something a bit darker."

She gasps as Jenny's tongue flicks across her clit. Her fingers lace through the secretary's hair while her hips gyrate slowly.

"Tonight, I don't want you to rape me. I want you to rape pretty Jenny here." She glares at me.

"You can't rape the willing, Veronica," I say with a smirk. "I don't know if you noticed her outfit, but J-"

"Who the fuck told you to talk?!" Veronica snaps. "Do you truly think I'm that stupid? Does the fact that I have a cunt make you think so little of me?"

She shoves Jenny's head aside, then stands.

"You are going to fuck and beat and abuse this fat whore until she's bleeding and bruised. You're going to break her ribs, her nose, and at least one of her fingers. You're going to knock her fucking unconscious. Then, and only then, will you be fucking me. I want you to knock me up while we lay on top of her unmoving body, and then I want you to take her to the god damn emergency room."

I raise an eyebrow. Jenny said that I could do whatever I wanted to her, including beating her up, but this is...more than I typically go for. I like choking, slapping, and the occasional punch, but breaking bones? If I really search my heart, I feel like I could beat a person unconscious and then fuck on top of them. I am, after all, a bastard. But I'm not sure if I can do that to Jenny.

"Veronica, I-"

"There's no two ways about this, motherfucker," Veronica growls. She pokes me in the chest. "You pushed and pushed and pushed, and now you're meeting some god damn resistance. You want to keep fucking the only female partner in this firm? We can make that happen. You can climb the ladder all the way to the fucking top. You'll just have to stomp on Jenny's head to get there. Literally."

I glance down at Jenny, who is looking up at me fearfully. She grits her teeth, then nods at me. In that moment, I know two things: that she would willingly take whatever punishment I doled out, and that I cannot ever do that to her.

The mere fact that she'd accept that kind of beating is, strangely enough, tugging at my heartstrings. She'd go to the ER, make up some lie, and continue serving me. And because she's that dedicated, I need to be the kind of person that is worthy of her dedication. A couple hours ago, she told me she loved me. Now I'm being asked to knock her unconscious. I am not a good person. I have done plenty of bad things. But I know I can't do this.