My Marketing Men Ch. 01

Geezuz, he's right. "Yessss. Yessss," I whispered.

"If he wants to take you to bed, will you? Will you open up and let him fuck you? You have to know the answer in advance. Do you want him to fuck you?"

"What about you? Do you want him to have me? Do you want this man to fuck me? Your honey? Your future wife? You're right, I think he wants to have me." I thought about the three-way relationship. "Do you want this man to possess my body? Do you want to share my pussy with a man you've never met? Do you think once he has me, he will want to share my sex even with the man I want to marry?" That was a real question. If he was the jealous type, would he then think I was just one of his personal harem?

Pause. "If you want him to have your body, to possess your pussy, to use your sex - for his pleasure and for yours - that's your choice. You know I love you and you know I will love you whatever you do with him. Whatever he does to you. You can let him into you anytime you want. . . . Just always come back to me. Come back to me."

He let that sink in. Yes, of course, I could let him have me, use me, use my body, use my sex. If I got pleasure out of it, we would both enjoy it. Lighten up, lady! It's just lust, just sport fucking. Not love. He doesn't want to own me, he just wants to fuck me! "Thank you, my love. Of course," I whispered in reply.

I didn't know the answer so much as I felt it. There was a fire in my panties and my vagina was sweating from the heat. "If he wants to take me to bed . . . if he wants to fuck me, then yes, I will let him fuck me. Is that okay, honey? I know this isn't the first time we've had this conversation, but this is more serious than the last ones."

"Okay, okay, relax. Yes, it's more serious. Is that because it's your boss or because you really want him? Don't get too attached. Lust, yes; love, no."

"Right. This makes me so hot. I really want to get laid, and he is so sexy, and the situation is so . . . so . . . hot. So, yes, if he wants to continue beyond a little playing, I will fuck him."

"Okayyyyy, babe. Be cool. And keep me informed."

When tomorrow came, I did as he suggested, cut the crotch panel out of my pantyhose. They felt a little looser and cooler when I put them on. And I followed that new instruction. Crotchless pantyhose and my bikini panties *on top* of them. It was a smashing success.

Late afternoon we had our meeting. He pulled me closer, felt me from waist to knee. I opened my legs a little for him when he nudged me to. God, I was nervous. I was sweating a little and shaking a lot. I couldn't think straight. Here I was, inviting this man to feel between my legs! This powerful man who could scotch my career if he wanted to. The papers on the desk were all but forgotten. I was trying to concentrate on the upsides: pleasure, a new playmate, a rich guy to play with. I had no idea how he might be in bed. Could be kinky or crazy for all I knew at that point. Alphas may be too forceful. Think positive, girl, positive! And open your legs for this adventure.

He felt my butt and leg from my knee, up inside my thigh, up. Up, up, to the crease between leg and buttock. He played along that crease, fondling the top of my thigh.

When he encountered the panties first, he must have understood immediately. He slid them down, not quite far enough for them to be visible outside my skirt. They were stretched tight across my thighs because my legs were so far apart. He reached around the panties, up the last few inches of my thigh. And up there he found my pussy, me, my core, uncovered, naked, hot and wet, waiting for his touch.

And he went between my legs. He found the hole in the pantyhose and felt around it, felt my damp sex through the hole. His fingers went back and forth, pressing into my slit along the lips of my pussy, pushing in, separating the lips. I could feel his finger brushing over my clit, sending thrills into my womb, my belly, my brain. Ohmigod my legs were quaking. I had to lean on the desk. He pushed into my hole. My vagina. My cunt. That's what it was then, my cunt. Hot, drooling, lusting to be filled. I opened my legs farther. I pushed my hips down to increase the pressure of his fingers that were almost in me.

He slid a finger up and down the gap of my lips. They parted easily for him. They had been waiting for this moment all day. For a couple days. He brushed my clit. I shivered with delight. he rubbed it, back and forth, pinched it. Ohmigod I almost fell down weak with pleasure.

He moved back a little to find my hole. A finger started to push up into me. I swooned. I moaned. I had a small orgasm as soon as his finger entered me, and I cried out. I pushed down onto his hand to force his fingers farther into my vagina. He pumped it a few times, withdrew. I whimpered in frustration, No don't go. I was rewarded when two fingers pushed back into me. We got into a rhythm, he pushed up into my cunt and I pushed down onto his fucking fingers.

I came quickly. I had to support myself with one hand and cover my mouth with the other to keep from being heard even through the solid door. He looked up at me as he removed his fingers and dramatically sucked my juices off them. He said I was delicious. He was going to plan ways for us to be more intimate together.

He stood up. And hugged me and kissed me for the first time. A hot kiss, all lips and tongues and moans. I plastered my body to his. This would have gone on, I don't know how long, but we were interrupted by his alarm. Fucking alarm! Time to catch that commuter train back to the wife and kiddies in Stamford! Fuck! FUCK! I picked up my papers, straightened my skirt, hoped that my lipstick wasn't too smeared, and left.

The conversation that night with my honey was even hotter than the previous one. I told him that I had cut open the pantyhose, so he owed me two pairs of fancy ones. Yes I had a meeting with the boss. Yes he put his hand on me again. Yes I opened my legs for him as he started to feel me. Yes he pulled my panties down and found the hole in the crotch of the hose. Yes he played with my pussy, felt my clit, pushed into my hole, drilled me good. "He finger fucked me, and I came. He fucked your girlfriend with his fingers and she loved it!" No we didn't discuss it or what comes next. No time, he had to run home.

Would I fuck him? Would I let him fuck me right there in the office?

Probably, if we could be sure not to be discovered. No it would not be tomorrow. But I did want to go further with this.

Aside: I'm getting tired of referring to my boss by his title. He has a name after all, and we were always on a first name basis in the office. He was Van, like Van Morrison. Short for Vance, but, being a marketing/advertising guy, he didn't want to be associated with Vance Packard. And me, I'm Mikki. Yes, stupid nickname, but the best I could do with "Micheline." My parents, bless them, named me after my grandfather Michel. What would have been wrong with Michelle, which is a reasonable name? Nope, Micheline, like the tire with an extra E on the end of it. And my brothers and kids at school pronounced it with a hard CH, like CK, so it got shortened to Mikki, the tomboy. I'm not all that girly-girl even now, so maybe Michelle would be too soft anyway. So I'm Mikki. Just one of the guys - but with a hungry pussy, wink, wink. And my fiance - soul mate, life mate, husband, still after all these years - is Danny. So there. End of aside.

My boss-now-lover started planning late meetings, or so he told his family, so he could take a train several hours later than usual. This was a white collar office, and it was pretty empty shortly after five. Half the people were going home and half were in nearby bars for happy hour.

About six we had another meeting. I closed the door and he locked it. We embraced and kissed. For a long time and passionately. It was not the first time we kissed but it was the first time we could be so close so openly. I molded my body to his and he held me tight. His hands were all over my body. He felt my breasts, oddly for the first time; we had always been concentrating below the waist.

He took my hand and led me to the leather sofa. I needed to be fucked and fucked hard and he wanted to satisfy my need. The panties outside the pantyhose were gone in a few seconds. I just kicked off my shoes with the panties, pulled up my skirt, and lay back. He pushed my knees apart and aimed his member at me. His pants had somehow fallen away, ziplessly, I didn't even notice. All I wanted was that cock that he was pointing at me. I reached for it and pulled it up to my pussy lips. He pushed slowly into me. I was in heaven, the feeling finally of being filled with man meat, I cried out. I held him with arms and legs. He pumped away in my slick sex tube for as long as it took for me to scream my orgasm and him to shoot his load of cum deep into me.

I couldn't wait to tell my guy about it that night on the phone. He went nuts. "I let him have me today, honey, in the office. He wanted me. I let him fuck me. Your future wife spread her legs and welcomed a strange cock into her cunt! And I loved it and he came in me! Sprayed my insides with his sperm!" He was thrilled. How wonderful! *I* was the one who got laid, I spread my legs for another man to fuck me, I came with another man's cock in me, I took another man's sperm into my cunt, I could feel that sperm dripping out of my cunt at that instant - and the love of my life was delighted! He was delighted because I had wanted to get laid, I was hot to get laid, I got laid, and I enjoyed it immensely.

That was his turn-on, that I got fucked and loved it. When I did anything sexual and loved it, he was thrilled. My pleasure was his pleasure. (And vice versa when the occasion arose.) And the more outrageous the better. Another man coming inside me, and me carrying his cum in my hole and my underwear for hours, that was the best.

We talked on the phone for over an hour. The phone lines should have melted. I gave him every detail I could remember. In the heat of passion, it was probably a little blurred. I told him that I still had Van's cum in me, dripping into my panties. "He fucked your girlfriend, honey. He spread her wide and put his dick into her body and came in her cunt! His cum is still inside her, oozing out." I reached into my panties, stuck a couple fingers up my hole, and pulled out some of that cum. I told my guy that I had that cum on my fingers, that I had just fingered myself to get it onto my hand. And then I licked it off and told him how tasty it was. I was teasing him to excite him and it worked. He came while I was reaching into myself and licking my fingers and moaning how I loved it. What a slut, eh?

My favorite vibrator had quite a workout that night before I could fall asleep, bless Duracell.

Van and I continued our (we hoped) clandestine affair at the office. We often kissed and embraced, but we had to be careful about that. I didn't want my lipstick or makeup messed up for anyone else to notice. He loved feeling my breasts, whether a quick grab or a long, kneading fondling. I loved all of that. I was lonely two hundred miles from my honey. I needed to feel close to a man, to feel wanted by a man, and he was the man of the hour.

I usually took my panties off in the ladies room before going to his office for our extended meetings. We tried to conduct real business before getting into playtime. Or should I say before he got into me.

After a few weeks of this, my fiance owed me a lot of fancy stockings to make up for all the pantyhose I sacrificed to give my office lover easy entry to my box. I loved his hand up my skirt. We both loved his finger fucking me at every opportunity to give me my daily dose of orgasm.

We got into a routine of fucking on the sofa one or two nights a week. He made excuses about having late meetings, things like calls with people in other time zones, when he was planning to stay late in the city.

Van was a good lover. He always attended to my needs, tried to make sure I came first. He didn't just want a blow job and a quick screw. No, he wanted *me*. He made me feel wanted, appreciated, desired, a mate not a plaything. He made me come with his hands or his cock. He wasn't perfect, of course, like he was not that enthusiastic about eating my box, which I love and I missed. And certainly never when his cum was leaking out of me. So maybe that was part of his alpha-ness. But on the whole, a very satisfying weekday love-in.

We used all the positions the plush sofa would allow. He preferred to drill me from on top. I liked that, too, I felt his hardness deeper inside me that way, and I could feel every pulse when he came. Or I sat on the arm and he drilled me standing up. For variety, I would have him sit on the sofa and I just pull my skirt up to my waist and slide slowly down on his cock. I loved that feeling, too, of controlling this fleshy pole pushing into my body, pumping it, swirling it around. Yum. A few times, he had me leaning over the sofa while he took me from behind, but neither of us enjoyed that as much as face to face. We liked looking at each other, kissing, holding tight.

There were always cum drips on the sofa. Fortunately, they never stained the old leather, not visibly. Sometimes drops or little pools. Sometimes a wet smile imprint of my pussy leaking cum onto my labia and ass. In the desk there were Kleenex and paper towels to wipe off the evidence of our lust. We always tried to remember to clean up.

All through this time, Danny and I were getting together on most weekends when we could afford it. One of us would take the train to the other's city, and we would spend the weekend half in bed and half in doing city things like restaurants and theaters. Play-sex with Van in the city was one thing. Real love and sex with my honey was another.

There were a few weekends when I had to forego that pleasure because Van stayed in town in a hotel for a convention or meeting that was held there. We spent almost all of Saturday in the hotel, in the bed, screwing all day. Room service be damned; we feasted on each other those days. That was so much fun that he found other excuses to spend the weekend in a hotel in or near the city, so Danny and I missed a few weekends.

Our office trysts also got riskier and riskier. He started to take my clothes off in his office before we settled onto the couch. At first, just my skirt and blouse, to avoid wrinkles and stains. Then everything. Well, almost everything. We both loved it when I kept the crotchless pantyhose on when he drilled me or I rode him. I think it was the slipperiness of my legs and ass in the nylon that excited us about that.

As had to happen eventually, one night the risks went too far. Even though he had locked the door, the cleaning lady decided that night to use her key. Normally, she just passed by if she found the door closed and locked. Not that night. Maybe he regular person was on vacation or something. She took a step into the room and saw the couch. On the couch, a naked woman with her legs spread wide. Between her legs, a man pounding into her with real enthusiasm. I looked away, hid my face. I don't think she could possibly have recognized me, or even my clothes, which were lying all over the place. She immediately backed out and closed the door. It couldn't have been more than five or ten seconds, but still, this put a chill on our lust. Surely the whole cleaning crew would know about it within a day. And who would be the most likely suspect for the fuckee on the boss's couch? Certainly the boss's young, attractive assistant, me.

We became more circumspect about times, and places, and hiding. This meant later hours. Sometimes it meant disappearing for an "afternoon delight" or evening delight at a nearby hotel. He didn't care about the cost and we both appreciated the privacy and security. But it did slow us down. On some occasions, I would sit for our meetings rather than stand next to him. I sat opposite him and made sure my skirt was pulled up enough for him to see my pussy under it. When I approached to hand him the reports of the day, he would fondle my tit or take a quick journey up my skirt to get his fingers wet. Our kisses became more quick pecks rather than long, passionate tongue wrestling.

And after almost five months, it just faded. He went back to going home on the early train. I still wore my altered pantyhose, still took my panties off to show him my pussy, but he drilled me less often, less deeply, less hard. The last time he had me was in a hotel on an afternoon. He told me it was the last time, and I knew it. I cried. He did, too, a little. No recriminations, no harsh words. Just sadness that our fun affair was ending. We would both have to look for new lovers.

I think Danny was relieved when it ended. This affair had gone on too long and there might have been a danger of some emotional involvement. I really liked Van. We were very close. I didn't love him, not romantically. Playmate, plaything, but not romantic lover. We never got together again. He might give me a pat on the ass now and then when no one was looking, but mostly we were "just business."

I continued as his staff guy for two more years until I left the company. In the meantime, there were other adventures, even another lover in the same company. But that's another tale for later.

On to the next chapter of my love life and sex life.

- Ms. Screwloose; edited by Mr. Screwloose