Molly's Muse Pt. 02

After a minute, Molly stood, letting Paul's cock completely out of her and turned to face him. She knelt down on the chair, straddling his lap and putting her bare tits in his face as she grabbed his cock, that was now behind her, and slid it back in her greedy hole. It had happened so quick Paul barely had time to register the cool air on his slick cock before it was once again warmed by Molly.

She sank down, her girlcock resting between them and her face coming even with Paul's'.

"It's not supposed to be like this," whispered Molly, "You aren't supposed to feel this good. It's distracting, hard to get any work done."

"And that's bad?"

"I was hiring a sex toy. Someone to use as a tool for work, to help write my new book. Instead, I have you, someone who makes me use work as a tool to have sex... or as an excuse just to be in the same room as you at times."

"Pretty sure I should be insulted at being hired as sex toy."

"Not like I hid my intentions, and I know you're joking, but honestly you should be insulted. I've been a very bad girl to you, Paul. I haven't been fair." Molly gave Paul an innocent pout, "You'll let me make it up to you, won't you?"

Paul nodded like an idiot, surprised at Molly switching the game, yet again.

"You're so nice, giving your sweet girl a second chance," she leaned up and buried Paul's face between her tits, smothering him, "I pro-mise you won't regret it."

Paul watched, weak and helpless in Molly's care, as she leaned back, planted her hands on the desk behind her, and lifted her ass until only his tip was inside her. She un-straddled herself from his lap and spread her knees wide, placing her feet on the armrests of the chair. The only point of physical contact left between them was Paul's cock lodged in her ass.

Molly's girlcock, in defiance of gravity, floated in the air between them, lifting Molly's skirt and giving Paul the first look at what Molly was doing to his cock since he had first entered her.

She sank down slowly, letting Paul see her envelope his cock until there was nothing left to see but Molly's cock pointing up into his face. She lifted again, still moving slow, making Paul's dick magically reappear inch by inch.

Once at the top, she gyrated her hips, lewdly messaging Paul's cock head with her tight pucker, keeping deep eye-contact with Paul as she rode him.

Paul wanted to participate, to thrust up into Molly, to play with her tits, caress her thighs, something, but he couldn't. He couldn't even move himself enough to touch her cock, which was swaying up and down in tandem with the rest of Molly, like pendulum of cockmeat.

She started fucking Paul faster, the increased rhythm causing her tits to flop down and slap into her chest, and her heavy cock to smack Paul's stomach on each of her downward thrusts.

"Fuck," Molly whined, "you're going to make your sweet girl cum again Paul. You feel so good in my ass it's going to make my needy girlcock cum all over you."

She picked up her speed more.

"You're going to cum too, right Paul? Cum deep in my ass? I want you to, so much. That's what good girls do, right? Let nice boys like you cum deep in their ass?"

Paul groaned, not even mustering enough will power for another idiot nod.

"Look what you and your big cock have done to me, I should be ashamed. So greedy to be fucked."

Faster now, Molly fucked Paul with force, never once looking away from him, holding Paul hostage with her body, and the desperate look of pleasure in her eyes.

The song leading them to their inevitable crescendo was a cacophony of colliding flesh. Molly's ass slammed down onto Paul's cock, slapping into his lap. Her massive girlcock made clapping sounds with each collision onto his bare stomach from the violence caused by its girth.

Molly's enormous, perfect tits smacked together lewdly to complete the symphony she had composed with her body, just for Paul.

"SOoooo close," she moaned loudly, making sure she was heard over the immoral sounds of her bouncing form.

Paul's knuckles were white from gripping the chair too hard. For a moment he tried to look away from Molly's penetrating stare, irrationally concerned the succubus riding him was looking to steal his soul away, but he couldn't.

He was hers now, and she needed Paul to watch her consume him.

He couldn't hold any longer, on pure instinct, Paul thrust up as Molly fucked down onto him on last time and released his seed into her.

"Oohh fuck! I can feel you cuming," Molly yelled, "It's so much. Don't stop. Fill me up." She started bouncing again, feeling Paul fill her up more as she did.

"Shit, shit, it's coming... I'm cuming. Shit, shh..." Her mouth remained opened, but no more sounds came out.

She dropped down, burying Paul as deep in her ass as she could possibly manage, and peaked. Her ass spasmed as it orgasmed, spreading the pleasure all over her body. Her cock joined in, letting loose a down-pour of girlcum. The first few spurts landed on Paul's chest and face before Molly brought one of her hands around and lifted her cock so it was now pointing up at her.

She stroked, coaxing more cum from her shaft, drenching her tits with her own sex juices, a beautiful pearl necklace of her own making forming around her delicate neck. The torrent of cum seemed unending, and Paul almost passed out from watching it fall in globs onto Molly's perfect body.

Through it all, Molly held Paul's eyes with her own, promising him this was just the beginning of what she would do for him, to him.

In the end they were both wicked puddles of sinful excess.

No longer able to hold herself up the way she had been, Molly adjusted and straddled Paul once again, keeping him firmly lodged inside her ass. She wasn't ready to let him go just yet.

Her cum covered tits mixed with Paul's cum covered chest when she pressed up against him. She shimmied, like she was trying to rub her girlcum into Paul's skin with her sloppy melons.

The wet noise it made was obscene.

The ambient noise of two people fucking often went underappreciated. Even though, if done right, it was an event unto itself.

Paul hadn't wavered again in keeping his eyes and attention on Molly since his brief moment of denied submission. Her cum, her sent, her words, her dark, piercing eyes overlaid atop any sexual memory that didn't already involve Molly.

A dark fantasy made real.

"You've made another mess of me, sweet girl," Paul said quietly.

"Oh my," she moaned back, still in her sexy 'sweet girl' voice. "I just can't help doing these dirty things to you. I suppose I'll need a third chance, won't I?"

He kissed her. No play, no game. Just need, longing, and regret that this moment couldn't last forever.

Getting back to himself, Paul's dry humor returned, "You could always make up for it by explaining what it is with these recliners," he patted the chair they were in, "or why, of all places, your office looks like it belongs on an episode of Hoarders."

"What do you mean?" asked Molly.

Paul looked at her face, searching for any hint that she was being indignant, or that she knew what he was talking about and was only messing with him, or just about anything indicating she understood his flippant curiosities weren't the most outlandish or unreasonable issues going on right now.

He found nothing. She either didn't understand what he was asking her, or she had no idea it was crazy weird to use recliners as office furniture. He wanted to explain further, push for an answer, but thought better of it.

"Nothing. Never mind. It's me that isn't making any sense, I guess," he said, rolling his eyes internally. "Must be cum drunk or something."

"Come back to my place and I can wash you, you'll feel better," said Molly. She had dropped her sweet girl act and sounded oddly concerned.

"I wish, but I really need to go home. It's been almost two days."

"Just a wash, then you can go home."

"Ha," Paul laughed, "Sure. First it will be 'just' a wash, then it will be 'just' a suck, next thing I know you're spreading my ass and pinning me to the bed with girlcock."

"Maaaybe. Is that so bad?"

"It sounds perfect, actually, but I really do need to go home."

Molly pouted.

She looked so adorable when she did that, Paul almost caved.

"You really have no interest in playing fair, do you?" he asked.

"No."

"How about this then. I go home, take care of what I need to, pack a few things, then show up for work tomorrow prepared to stay for as long as it takes for you to grow tired of me."

"Might take a while."

"I'm hoping."

Molly smiled.

Relenting, she said, "Ok, but Ms. Denton, your boss, says the workday isn't over yet."

"Isn't there some labor law against working me this late, Ms. Denton?" Paul said, lacing his last words with intentions.

"Oh, I like the way you say my name like that, we'll have to use it later."

"Speaking of... this whole 'clothed female, naked male' thing you have going on right now is really working for me. You should do it again sometime."

Molly looked at herself. Other than her tits and a portion of her girlcock too big to be covered by her skirt, she noticed for the first time that she did indeed still have all her clothes on, even her shoes. She looked back to Paul, and sure enough, he was completely naked.

"Interesting. More fun for later though, I really need to get some writing done while I have you here. How about you get between my legs and play with my cock? No preference on how, I just like having you touch me. Please"

Molly's cock hadn't softened and was pulsing as it rested on Paul, all but begging for more attention. Paul but his hands on Molly, stroking her lightly.

"I feel tempted to see if you can last the way you say you can," he said.

"We'd probably pass out from exhaustion before I stop being hard."

"Do you stay hard when you sleep?"

"I feel like I'm answering the same question now, just phrased differently."

"That's a yes then."

Molly got up off Paul to let the two of them rearrange, Paul dutifully making himself comfortable on the floor. Molly situated herself so he was able to access any part of her girlcock and balls he had an interest in.

She wrote, he played, and they talked over the next few hours about nothing in particular. Paul found himself being able to tell by the firmness of Molly's girl-balls when she needed more than just play and made her cum when needed.

Neither one of them could remember the last time they'd been this relaxed.

*********

It was well past dark by the time Paul left the office. He was thankful for it because it meant the staff had gone home for the day and the halls in the building were mostly empty. The only person left to witness what was essentially his 'walk of shame' after two days of fucking his boss was the receptionist, Amy, he had first met after arriving here the day before.

She didn't say anything as he walked by her desk, only giving him a playful wave and a knowing smirk on his way out.

It was going to be weird over the next few weeks with his co-workers knowing he was getting railed by his big-dicked boss. It was a small price to pay for Paul if it meant he was getting railed by his big-dicked boss. Somethings were turning out to be their own reward when it came to Molly.

The night was cold and clean. The crisp, fresh air feeling great on Paul's face after not being outside for so long. Getting into his car he rolled the window down and tuned his radio to music instead of the talk-radio he had been listening to the day before and pulled out of the parking lot.

A dream-like fugue washed over him as he drove, the empty streets and stoplights a soothing blur in his vision. He played over his time with Molly in his head. It didn't seem real. The past forty-eight hours was an earthquake of happenings that played better on black water websites rather than in his memories.

Molly ran like a mirage in his head, like something his mind had painted to cope with how miserable his life was before she had walked into that interview room.

A rush of air washed over his face from the open window, bringing with it the scent of Molly that still permeated his entire body. Molly had spent some time cleaning him up, wiping down the worst of what she had left on them both, but he was too saturated in her for it to make much of a difference in the end.

It was the scent that made her real again. He felt her perfect tits hugging his cock, being inside her, hearing her sweet little voice begging him to cum. Moaning for him to fill her up deep in her ass until she couldn't hold any more of him.

He remembered how it felt to have her buried and hilted in his virgin ass, her balls slapping against him shamelessly each time she drove her girlcock down into the far reaches of his body.

That feeling, the fullness of it most of all, dominated his thoughts.

He pulled into his apartment complex and parked the car. He didn't move to get out, however. He remained in his seat with the engine still running, tempted to pull back out and turn around and drive back to Molly.

He missed her. He should have stayed and dealt with the real life that waited for him in his crappy studio apartment another day. But that would only delay the trip, and the sooner he sorted himself out, the sooner he could be back with Molly.

Shutting off his car, he got out and made his way inside.

Entering his apartment, it immediately felt small. It wasn't the size that was small. It was a studio. The space had always been small.

It was the dimness. There was no shine here.

He moved about, going through the motions like anyone would after arriving back home after being gone for some time. Putting things away, taking things out, cleaning and organizing. All of it mundane. All of it useless.

He didn't want to be here. What was a room without Molly in it?

A decision came to Paul without consciously trying to make one. He could pack up the things he needed in a few minutes, shove it in his car and be back with Molly in less than an hour if he hurried.

So why not do it?

He grabbed a duffle from his closet and started filling it with anything he thought he might need, trying to be thorough enough not to forget something that would cause him to have to come back. He didn't own much to begin with, so it took him less time to pack then he thought it would.

As badly as he needed one, he wasn't going to shower since it would just waste time and wash away what little of Molly was left on him. He changed his mind, however, when he thought about how eager she would be to mark him all over again. Best to give her a clean slate to work with.

Alone, no soapy tits sliding over his naked body, no hard girlcock to play with, it was the stupidest fucking shower Paul had ever experienced.

Clean and dry, he pulled on some underwear and a pair of comfortable gym pants. Before he could grab a shirt and pull it on, a knock sounded loudly coming from his apartment door.

"Who is it?" Paul asked. He was confused. It was late for visitors, not that he got many visitors during the day either.

The answer he received was another round of knocking.

Instead of yelling, Paul went to answer it. In the back of his mind, he was hoping it was Molly, just as desperate and pathetic as he was with his need to be with her.

He opened the door with high hopes, only for them to be dashed and replaced with confusion and disappointment.

"Grace?" he asked, surprised to see her here at his apartment.

"Hi Paul," Grace replied, smiling.

She was dressed in yoga pants, sports bra and a light jacket like she had come here straight from the gym. She looked amazing, each piece of clothing form fitting, revealing, and sexy as fuck.

Something was off about her though. Nothing about her besides her clothes made it look like she had been working out. Her make-up and hair were still perfect, and she was wearing casual footwear as opposed to sneakers. The outfit, combined with the house call, reeked of trying too hard to accomplish something Paul wasn't sure Grace knew how to do.

Not to mention that women dressing in work-out clothes with no intention of working out or performing any sort of physical activity was the universal uniform of the basic suburban housewife. A stereotype that didn't seem to fit Grace in the least.

The semi-erect bulge riding down one of her pant-legs was also a red flag. It didn't look to be as big as Molly's, but it was impressive non-the-less.

Paul knew this wasn't going to go well.

"What are you doing here? How do you know where I live?" asked Paul.

"I'm the director of HR, it's my job to know where you live," replied Grace evenly.

"Ok, then let's go with my first question," he said dryly. He didn't like her being here, not after what Cassie and Molly had warned him about.

Grace stopped in her response, and gasped.

"Damn, what happened there?" she asked, pointing to Paul's shoulder where Molly's bite mark was starting to bruise.

"Molly bit me," he replied, not having a reason to lie. They all knew what he and Molly had been getting up to.

"And from behind from the looks of it. That wasn't very nice of her."

"Not her fault. I'm very tasty."

Grace laughed, entering Paul's apartment without being invited.

Paul was surprised at her brashness. By the time he thought to stop her, she had already passed him moving deeper into his apartment. Short of physically picking her up and throwing her out, there wasn't much he could do about it.

He could yell or scream for her to leave, but she was technically someone he worked for and wasn't sure how to navigate kicking her out tactfully. He also didn't want to take advantage of him and Molly blurring the lines of business and pleasure so soon in their relationship. It was unfair to her and looked terrible on him.

He went to shut the door behind her on impulse, then decided against it. It felt too intimate to be in a small, enclosed space with Grace and he wanted no part of it. Instead, he opened it wider and left it.

"I thought I would come by and chat a little," Grace said, taking a seat on his couch, "Molly's been keeping you so busy we've hardly had a chance to get to know one another."

"Shame," responded Paul, not meaning it.

Grace paused and smirked. "Molly said you were funny. I see what she means."

"Does she know you're here?"

"No. Should she? She's a busy girl, and this is part of my job. Not hers. Come, sit, let's talk. See if Denton Publishing can't be a better home for your career growth."

Paul blinked and watched Grace subtly move her hand to her cock when she emphasized her last word. It occurred to him that Grace might have never had to work very hard to get someone in bed and therefore had no idea how to put effort into seducing someone.

The theory explained the overt choice in clothing and her not-so-subtle emphasis towards her cock. Not to mention she was easily one of the most beautiful women he had ever met in his life, showing up and pointing at whoever she wanted to take home was probably the extent of whatever dating skills she had ever needed to evolve.

"Most of my work is directly involved with Molly, I'm not sure there's much to discuss without her being here." Paul said, trying to end the conversation quickly.

"There's more to this business than being Molly's... editor," she said, meaning something completely different.

Her passive aggression was grating. That last quip almost sounded like she was insulting him. Or Molly, which would be worse.

Grace made a show of taking off her jacket, jutting her chest out showing off her impressive bust. Paul rolled his eyes at the overdramatic gesture.

"I'd prefer you not get comfortable; I was just leaving. Molly asked me to come in to help her with a part of her book she's stuck on." A truth, and a lie.