tagErotic CouplingsPeach Takes a Letter

Peach Takes a Letter


Peach Powell was a large woman. She stood 5'6" and weighed 300 pounds. She was 26 years old and was quite shy. She had been teased a lot about her weight as she grew up. She also hated her name. Coupled with her size was the fact that she started developing enormous boobs at an early age, which led to her being dubbed "Beach Ball" or "Beach Balls". Her face was extremely pretty though, with big, pouty lips, sparkling blue eyes with long lashes, cute, chubby cheeks, and a tiny, upturned nose. Her hair was blond and slightly wavy, and she kept it a little longer than shoulder length.

She was only just now beginning to think that men might find her attractive, and that her mammoth 46HH jugs might be an asset, rather than just an expensive and extremely inconvenient shopping catalyst.

Peach had just started working at an important engineering firm as an executive secretary two weeks ago. Her father, a successful business man, had gotten her the job as one of the ways to try to make up for abandoning her and her mother when she was eight years old.

She had a good business relationship with her new boss, but was not on friendly terms. Today she was dressed in a dark blue blazer and skirt, with a white blouse, black stockings and black high heels. She had make-up heavily and carefully applied. Her nails were manicured, she sported a pair of classy gold earrings and her hair was done up in a neat bun.

She was at her desk attending some paperwork when she was interrupted by the intercom. "Miss Powell," her director's voice said.

"Yes, Sir?" she replied.

"Miss Powell, come in to my office at once please."

"Yes, Sir," she responded, and rose from her desk. She then walked down the hall and entered his office.

He was seated at his desk, wearing a dark grey pressed suit with a black tie and a bright shine on his shoes. His hair was slicked back in a conservative style; he was clean-shaven and imposing. He rose from his desk and gestured towards her with a casual look on his face, saying, "Come in, Miss Powell. Close the door behind you and take a seat please."

"Yes, Sir," was her reply again, shutting the door and seating herself in one of the leather chairs in his office.

"Take a letter, Miss Powell," he began, sitting down on the edge of his desk. "To whom it may concern: regarding the remittance for..." he trailed on about some sort of legal issue, while she sat with her legs crossed taking dictation on his letter. After some time, he stopped speaking, and after several seconds, she looked up to see him fixing her with a quizzical look.

She paused for a moment, then asked, "Is something wrong Sir?"

Another moment passed, and then he said, "I think so, Miss Powell. I have a serious problem."

"What would that be, Sir?" she asked.

"Well, Miss Powell, I've been looking at you just now, and I've noticed your cleavage showing at the top of your blouse."

"Oh, I'm sorry, Sir," she said, and began to button up the top buttons on her blouse, worried that a reprimand might be coming about her mode of dress.

"No, no, Miss Powell. That's not the problem. You're going the wrong way."

She stopped and looked at him with a puzzled expression and said, "Excuse me, Sir?"

"I mean, Miss Powell, that looking at you has made me very horny. I want to tit-fuck you."

She paused with her hands still frozen on her buttons, with a mildly stunned expression on her face. "Excuse me Sir?" she said again, and after a short pause, added, "Are you serious?"

"Absolutely serious, Miss Powell," he replied.

"Right here?" she asked. "Right now?"

"Right here," he replied, matter-of-factly. "Right now. Unbutton your blouse, please."

She stared up at his appraising expression, as almost hypnotically she started to undo the buttons on her blouse one by one, her hands trembling slightly. Her heart began to pound in her chest and a lump rose in her throat as her hands unclasped the buttons between her breasts and then on down to her belly.

"Show me your bra," he said, still gazing at her with an expression of detached interest. She slowly pulled her blouse free from her skirt and spread it open, revealing a lacy brassiere holding back her beautiful, massive boobs.

"Very nice," he said. "Now take off your blazer and blouse so you can take your bra off, Miss Powell. I want to see your tits in the flesh."

She slowly complied with his demand, rising and removing her blazer and blouse, then placing them on the chair. A hot flush came to her cheeks and she looked down from his stare as she reached behind her back to unclasp her bra. She was very nervous now, almost shaking as she slid her bra straps over her shoulders and revealed her huge melons. She heard a sharp intake of breath from her director.

"Very nice, Miss Powell. Your tits are even more wonderful out in the open than underneath all that cloth. Turn about for me please."

She slowly turned in place, glancing up to see his approving smile. A shiver ran through her and she become aware that her panties were getting very wet

"Sit down, please, Miss Powell. And put your blazer back on" he said. " I want you to maintain a professional image while I fuck your tits."

"Yes, Sir," she managed to say, redonning her blazer and sitting back down.

He reached into a desk drawer and pull out a clear plastic bottle. Uncapping it, he said, "Lean forward and squeeze your tits together."

"Yes, Sir," was her response. Her clit started itching as she saw the obvious bulge in his trousers. Tilting the bottle, he squeezed out a large amount of the clear jelly lube into her cleavage. Some of it dripped down on to her skirt, leaving shining pools of liquid. He placed the bottle on the desk and unfastened the belt on his trousers and lowered them to his knees. Next he lowered a pair of boxer briefs to free his rigid member, which bobbed slightly pointing straight towards her. She stifled a gasp and felt her pussy clench at the sight of his engorged rod. He placed his hands on her shoulders and rested his cock on her cleavage, gently thrusting on the surface and lubricating the shaft. She stared down at his angry red cock as it slowly slid back and forth, coating itself in shiny lubricant.

He repositioned his hips so his cock slipped down to the bottom side of her glistening cleavage, and then thrust it gently between her luscious jugs. She heard a gasp from him, and looked up to see his eyes closed, mouth half-open in a grimace of pleasure. A shudder took his body as he withdrew downwards, and then thrust his dick back up between her boobs. Again he withdrew and thrust, slowly building up speed and setting into a rhythm as his dick split her cleavage, the head barely poking through the top displaying an engorged purple next to the milk-white skin of her soft breast flesh.

His breathing quickened as did hers, her cunt beginning to throb with desire. "Does that feel good, Sir?" she asked.

"Yeah, it's amazing!" he gasped out.

"Do you like fucking my tits, Sir?" she prompted him.

"Ah, god, yeah!" he growled. His breath came in grunts now as he started furiously impaling her knockers, bucking his hips forward and causing a smacking sound against her tits. "Ahhhh!" he groaned as he pulled his dick out from her glistening tit-trench.

He kicked his pants away and start stroking his penis as he barked out, "Get up and bend over the desk!"

"Yes Sir!" she breathlessly said, quickly doing as he ordered. She felt her skirt being hiked up and then his hands tear her nylons.

"Spread your legs!" he commanded as he grabbed the crotch of her panties and yanked them to one side.

"Yes Sir!" she moaned as she parted her legs as far as she could. Before she could even complete the maneuver, she felt the tip of his penis pressing at the lips of her vagina, and finding the opening he savagely drove in, forcing a cry from both of them.

He rapidly withdrew and pounded back in to the hilt. His thick manhood felt like it was going to rip her snatch at the seams as he mercilessly impaled her. Trapped against the desk she could only gasp for air and howl as she held on. Loud slapping sounds emanated from his jackrabbit pace as he fucked her cunt with all his might.

She felt an enormous orgasm begin to build inside of her, and she began to babble, "Oh, Sir! It so... Oh god! I just... Yeah! Oh yes! Fuck me, Sir! Keep fucking me! Oh my god! Please! Shit! Oh my fucking god! More!"

His cock pistoned even faster now, his breath coming in grunts. He seemed to swell larger inside of her as her orgasm gripped her being, tearing a scream from deep inside of her.

"AAAHHHHH FUUUCCCCK!!!" he roared out as she felt the white hot jets of his jism begin to fill her cunt, spurting deep inside her in great globs. She continued coming, her pussy spasming and clenching in ecstasy as each squirt of semen shot into her. His pace slowed as he shuddered and panted heavily, eventually withdrawing completely from her jizz-soaked twat, causing her to jolt and shudder.

Their breathing was both laboured as he collapsed into the chair. She still lay bent over the desk, unable to move. "Ah, thank you, Miss Powell. I needed that," he rasped as he began fumbling with his pants. She managed to roll on to her side and rise while holding on to the desk, her knees still weak as she recovered from her rapturous orgasm.

"Oh, you're most welcome, Sir!" she beamed, wiping the sweat from her face.

Producing a wallet, he grabbed a credit card and held it out to her, saying, "Clean yourself up and take this. Buy yourself a new suit. There is no limit to the price. We'll discuss a substantial salary increase for you in the morning, Miss Powell."

"Oh thank you, Sir!" she gushed between heaving breaths. Barely able to walk, she started gathering her clothes to headed to the washroom.

"I guess that letter wasn't as important as I thought," she heard him muse as he wiped himself off and begin redressing. She left his office still scarcely able to navigate down the hall as she heard him pick up the phone and start another business call.

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