The (Slang for Female Sex Organ)

I'm Brian Bolter. I met Coraline Branson after I had been working for Peter Branson about three months. Coraline was Peter's wife. It took me only about five minutes to determine that Coraline is a cunt, i. e. a woman who is contemptible to the extreme. I had never used the "c" word before to refer to a woman, even in my own mind, but that was the only word that fit.

Coraline was haughty, demeaning, nasty, selfish, and fake, all rolled into one despicable package. I wondered what type of upbringing she had to make her that way, and I wondered how Peter --who seemed to be a nice guy the three months that I had worked for him -- could put up with her.

Well, actually, I wasn't totally clueless as to why Peter put up with Coraline. If there wasn't a scowl on her face it was very pretty, and even clad in fairly conservative clothing her body was probably what the average man thinks of when the name Aphrodite is mentioned. If Peter was regularly banging that piece of ass he probably didn't have enough brain cells that weren't awash in endorphins to think too much about what a cunt she was.

************

As a twenty three year old recently graduated electrical engineer I was extremely pleased to have gotten a job with Branson Engineering LLC since it was one of the most prestigious engineering companies in the US. I was surprised that I got the job since although I am clever I was only in the middle of my class at Northwestern (the 19th rated undergraduate engineering school in the US), and the three other engineers hired by Branson the same time as me all were at or near the top of their class at MIT, Stanford, and Cal Tech (the first, second, and fourth rated engineering schools in the US). I did have several advantages, however, as far as engineering sales are concerned. Whether it is fair or not, people who are athletic, big, and good-looking get hired for engineering sales and I was a conference champion swimmer at Northwestern, am six foot three, 195 pounds, and did modelling part time while in school. I finagled a personal interview with Peter Branson and I believe that I nailed it, not at all disturbed by some of the probably less-than-appropriate questions that he asked me during the interview. Perhaps the strangest was if I had a steady girlfriend.

Anyway, while I was hired for engineering sales, and while I did go through in-house training for that, shortly after I met Coraline at a company function Peter moved me into a position as his assistant, a position he apparently had just created and thought that I would be well suited for. I think it was because I was more out-going and more comfortable in social situations than all of the other engineers working at Branson Engineering LLC. Anyway, what my job consisted of was attending initial client meetings with Peter, doing rough engineering proposals about Peter's ideas and interfacing with the hard core engineers to start them on implementing Peter's ideas, and even doing some "go-for" tasks for Peter.

I never resented the "go-for" tasks that Peter assigned to me because even they provided some valuable experience, got me out of the office, and endeared me to him and he was the one who determined all salaries (and I was well paid).

It was in June, about four months after I met Coraline, when Peter assigned me my first go-for task that related to her. As Peter put it "My wife Coraline is unhappy with the controls for the pool cover, automatic cleaners, and saline sensors for our salt water swimming pool. She can't get anyone from the manufacturer to do something to her satisfaction. You're an electrical whiz," I wasn't, but if he wanted to think that I wasn't going to argue, "go see what you can do. My home address and directions are on this card, and use one of the electrically equipped company vans."

So off to Peter's house -- actually it is a more a mansion than house -- I went, a little apprehensive about interfacing with Coraline, but it was a nice sunny day and I had a thick skin, so I just sucked it up.

"So you're the doofus Peter sent to help me out," Coraline barked after the maid led me to the pool area where bikini-clad Coraline was laying on a lounge chair. "Didn't you just start -- how the hell will you be able to help me?"

I was taken aback -- but not so much by her words but her appearance. "Don't get hard, don't get hard," I repeated over-and-over to myself staring at the best looking female form that I had ever seen in my life; fortunately I had sunglasses on. I only snapped out of my stupor when she snapped "Well?"

In a surprising smooth manner I lied "I had a similar project in college so I think that I can do what you need. Please explain the problems you are having, and what you are looking for."

In a condescending manner, Coraline walked around the half-Olympic size pool in her ornate back yard pointing out all of the things that she didn't like, and concentrating on the remote control which she held in her hand as we navigated the pool deck. I had a clipboard and camera with me and took notes and pictures as she talked. I found that the only way that I could concentrate was not to look at her body, but just to look where she pointed and at her forehead when I faced her, otherwise I was sure that I'd sprout a boner that would be impossible to cover up.

After I got all of the information that I needed I started to say my good-byes when she startled me. "Bolter -- that is your name, isn't it?"

"Yes ma'am," I replied.

Coraline took off her sunglasses stared at me and snapped "Call me 'ma'am' again and I'll strangle you; I'm only thirty four, for fuck's sake. It's Mrs. Branson to you."

"Got it, Mrs. Branson," I replied with a weak smile.

"OK, Bolter, I don't want to be dealing with a pervert or moron so I need to find out some things about you. Marie will bring us a quick lunch and some lemonade or ice tea; have a seat at the table with the umbrella on the pool deck while I get her to serve us," Coraline said as she sashayed away.

I made the mistake of looking at her ass as she strutted. I immediately felt activity at my crotch so I quickly turned away and walked over to the table -- which unfortunately was transparent.

In more of an interrogation than a conversation, Coraline and I talked for the next half hour. It was one of the least enjoyable conversations of my life for three reasons: 1) there were no pleasantries in the way that she asked her questions or talked; 2) the questions that she asked were too personal and uncomfortable; and 3) worst of all I had to intensely concentrate on not tenting my pants because even though she was a complete cunt my subconscious mind kept wondering "What would it be like to fuck that perfect crotch while sucking on her ponderous tits while she begged me to fill her up with sperm?"

Mercifully, after about a half hour Coraline dismissed me and then dove into the pool with the grace of an Olympian. I watched, hoping that her top would be dislodged, but no such luck. When I got to the van it was all that I could do not to masturbate right there in her driveway, but I snapped out of it and drove back to work.

When I got back Peter's secretary called me into his office. "Did you find out exactly what Coraline wants?" he asked.

"I think so, Peter," which is what he insisted that I call him except in meetings with clients. "I'm wondering, though, how much time that I should spend on the project considering my other work."

"Treat it as your number one priority," he surprisingly replied. "She'll be on my case until it gets done and she can be difficult when she has a burr in her saddle," he grinned.

***********

Over the next month I implemented all of the circuitry and software changes that would be necessary to do what Coraline wanted, using a bastardized cable TV remote. It required me going over to her house almost daily, which also necessitated me checking with her to make sure that she would be there and not at exercise, doing volunteer work, at the country club, or shopping. I didn't know if she didn't trust me or wanted to make my life miserable or what, in requiring that she be there when I worked. In any event, going over to her house was all of awful, painful, and invigorating. It was awful because of how she treated me, it was painful because she was always in a bikini and I had to try my best to keep from getting hard, and it was invigorating because glancing or staring (when she wasn't looking) at her perfect female form really got my juices flowing.

After I had gotten almost everything to work -- even to Coraline's exacting standards -- and just had a few minor things to work on I arrived at her house exactly at 10 a. m. as she had instructed. However, instead of the maid answering the door she did -- topless. My eyeballs popped out so far that they almost knocked the sunglasses off of my face. She had perfect east-west D tits with protruding nipples. There was no way that I could control tenting my pants. "Uh...did...I...catch you...at...a...bad time?" I stammered.

"No, doofus, I got a little sunburn laying topless at the pool yesterday when I thought I was under an umbrella but wasn't, so I need to let my tits free today."

"Uh...where's Marie?"

"She's got the day off; come on back."

As I worked on the final changes to the control system instead of lounging away from me like she normally did Coraline was hovering over me -- still topless. I know that I was sweating both because I was nervous and aroused, and found it difficult to concentrate every time that I looked at her profound mammaries or svelte pelvis, but I finally got it done. I gave her the remote and asked her to run through all of the tasks that she was interested in.

For the first time I heard Coraline actually giggle, and smile, as she pressed the buttons for each function in turn. When everything worked to her satisfaction she put the remote down on a deck table, removed her sunglasses, and took off mine. "You did a good job Bolter, and I can tell from the condition of your cock," she said as she lightly moved her hand over my tented shorts, "that you'd like to bend me over a lounge chair and fuck my brains out, wouldn't you?"

"Uh...no...what...uh...Mrs. Branson...gave...uh (gulp) you...that...idea?" I stammered.

"Oh, I don't know," she continued with a wicked grin as she pulled my head down, kissed me, and grabbed my cock through my pants.

I spontaneously ejaculated for the first time in my life. When I realized it I pushed myself away from her. She spotted it, however. "Wow -- you really know how to flatter a girl. Why don't you take your pants off, I'll suck you hard, and then you can ream out my pussy," she cackled.

My mind was in turmoil, but I gained enough control to literally run into the house, out the front door, and into the van, peeling rubber driving out of the cul-de-sac the Branson mansion was in. I had to stop at my apartment to change clothes. I then was faced with the difficult decision as to what to say to Peter, if anything.

I thought long and hard about how to approach the issue on my way back to work. I still hadn't made up my mind when Peter's secretary called me into his office. Peter had a big smile on his face. "Coraline just called," he started out, and then paused, almost making me hyperventilate before he continued, "and she couldn't be happier with the control system you set up for her. Thanks, Brian," he concluded, shaking my hand.

As Peter shook my hand he looked directly into my eyes and queried "Something wrong Brian?"

In response I blurted out before I could catch myself "I'm sorry but I have to tell you that Coraline came on to m today -- strongly."

Peter got a big grin, chuckled and then said "I know; I saw it live."

"What the fuck..." I spontaneously uttered, again before I could catch myself.

"It's time that we have a heart-to-heart, Brian. Meet me at Springbrook Country Club at 6:30 tonight, the outside patio, for dinner, and I'll clue you in on some things."

***********

I was in a fog the rest of the day; I got virtually nothing done. Several of my co-workers asked "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Uh...I have a major problem, but don't ask about it," was my bland response.

I had no fucking idea what Peter would say. Was he a pervert who liked to watch his wife fuck other guys? Did Coraline know about cameras recording her? Was he going to fire me? Divorce her? WHAT THE FUCK!!!

I got to Springbrook by 6:20 and was seated at the patio table most remote from the main building. Peter arrived exactly at 6:30, with a big smile and a handshake. "I hope that you don't mind if I order for both of us, Brian," he smiled. Then he turned to the waiter and said "Two draft beers, two appetizer specials, and two dinner specials, Charles."

"Yes sir Mr. Branson," Charles replied and then took off.

When Peter turned to me I had my third blurt-out of the day. "Peter, I need to know what the fuck is going on. Please don't keep me in suspense."

"OK, I won't torture you," he grinned. "As soon as you down your first beer I'll tell you."

Fortunately Charles was back almost immediately with two draft beers. I chugged mine as Peter sipped his.

"Although you're a smart, personable, and clever guy, Brian, I didn't hire you with the expectation that you'd ultimately become a partner at my firm. You simply don't have the background necessary to succeed with our complex engineering tasks. However, I hired you for a very important reason. I have a prenup with Coraline that lets me divorce her on very favorable terms if she cheats, and you're going to allow me to divorce her on those favorable terms," he smiled.

"What the fuck?" was my response; I really don't know whether it was aloud or just in my head, but in any event Peter proceeded undisturbed.

"You're a very good looking, athletic, smart, personable guy. Your blond hair, blue eyes, cherubic face, and tall swimmer's build, are exactly what Coraline is attracted to. I knew when I met you that you were my ticket to freedom without losing my shirt. You see, despite the fact that Coraline is the sexiest woman and best fuck in the world, she's a cunt. It's hard to keep staff, none of my friends or their wives want anything to do with her, and she's an embarrassment in many social situations. Also, she likes to assert control with sex -- and believe me what she has to offer in the sack is so delicious that she succeeds. After four years I've just reached the end of my rope," Peter said, the last sentence with a sigh of exasperation.

"So you want me to get her to cheat on you with me?" I asked, dumbfounded, and then chugged a second beer that Charles appeared with out of nowhere.

"That's exactly what I want you to do; and I'll make it worth your effort, too," Peter replied, then downed his first beer.

"How so?" I asked.

Peter reached into his suitcoat pocket, pulled out a three page document, and handed it to me. "My lawyer drafted this. We will have to keep it confidential, but it is enforceable. In fact I'll pay for you to retain your own attorney to review it. Now let's have a pleasant dinner and you can get back to me after your attorney reviews it."

Just then the appetizers arrived, and we started talking about local sports teams, Peter's travels to various spots around the world, and other non-controversial matters as we ate.

***********

When I got home that night I read Peter's agreement over. What is provided was that I was to have a month long affair with Coraline, Peter would expose her, fire me, and file for divorce. I would get $150,000 when he filed, another $150,000 when the divorce was granted, and that he would not only give me a favorable job recommendation but would set me up with an engineering firm in another state that would be happy to have me and would give me a three year employment contract to do real electrical engineering work. I called a fraternity brother of mine that very night -- his father was a name partner in a big law firm -- and asked him to have his father have a contract specialist call me as soon as possible.

Within two days my attorney had reviewed the contract, got paid by Peter, gave me the "all clear," and Peter and I signed on the dotted line. At the private "signing ceremony," Peter told me "I want you to call Coraline right away; tell her that all you could think about since you last say her was making love to her; that she is the sexiest woman in the world; and beg her to let you visit her."

I would not be lying if I told Coraline that she was the sexiest woman in the world or that I had been thinking constantly of her consummate body; so I made the call.

"Hello, Coraline Branson here."

"Hi...Mrs. Branson; this is Brian Bolter. Do you have a minute to talk?"

"Why should I after the rude way you left the other day?" she replied, although not in her typical snarky voice, but a more playful one.

"Because since I left all that I can think about is you. You're the most beautiful, sexiest, woman on the planet and I want to make love to you more than anything else in the world; I beg you let me visit you again; I promise that you won't be disappointed," I replied in a pleading voice.

"Hmmm...let me think about it. The next day Marie has off is this coming Thursday. Can you make it then; 10 a. m.?"

"Wild horses couldn't keep me away." I snarled

"What will you tell Peter?"

"You tell him that something is wrong with the controls I did for you, and that you need me to repair them," I responded.

"Smart man..." she laughed. "OK; see you Thursday, 10 o'clock," then she terminated the call.

I immediately went to see Peter. He had a big smile and slapped me on the back.

****************

When I arrived at Coraline's house on Thursday she answered the door naked. I immediately sprouted a boner, but I was sure that I could control myself without a spontaneous ejaculation this time. Without a word I lifted her off her feet and planted the most passionate kiss I ever had on her lips. When I put her back on her feet with a big smile on her face she said "Easy tiger..."

I interrupted her. "There's not going to be anything easy about this. I'm going to ravage you until you plead for mercy," I fake snarled, then picked her up and started carrying her to one of the guest bedrooms where Peter had several cameras set up.

I could tell that Coraline didn't like not having control, but I didn't give her a chance to assert it. "Thank you for answering the door naked, Mrs. Branson," I said as I laid her down on the mattress, my words interrupted by kisses all over her body. "I need to ravage you first then I'll do anything that you want me to," I continued before planting another zealous kiss on her lips.

As soon as I broke off the kiss I went after her pussy with my tongue, lips, and all ten digits, with more energy than at any other time in my life. After her first two orgasms I used one hand to maul one of her tits as I continued to suck her clit and finger her G-spot. Her third and fourth orgasms were so powerful that I was surprised that she didn't either pass out or flip off the bed. As I massaged her tits while she was recovering from her fourth orgasm she mumbled "Fuck me you bastard; fuck my pussy to oblivion!"

I quickly disrobed. My uncut girthy cock was rock hard and standing proud when I removed my boxers. "Holy shit..." Coraline mumbled as she reached for it, contorted her body, and then put her mouth on it. I didn't let her suck long because my cock was hungry for pussy, so I moved her face away, got between her legs, and buried my cock in one fluid push.

Fortunately Coraline's very tight cunt was well lubricated because otherwise my cock would have been too girthy for a quick penetration. As it was she screamed -- probably in pleasure, but maybe a mixture of pain and pleasure -- as I buried myself balls deep. After that there was only pleasure as I sawed in-and-out while she squeezed and released her pc muscles and clenched her thighs around my torso. With a roar I swiftly came like a freight train. She screamed, and then whimpered, as jet after jet blasted her vagina.