
Copyright © 2012 Danity O’Shae
Smashwords Edition
All rights reserved
Corporate Screw
Never
Fuck ANYONE At The Office
That
had been rule number one five years ago. After promotion number one,
that rule had changed to: Co-Workers Are Only Fuckable If They Have A
Higher Paying Position Than You Do. It worked better that way for
Francesca Delaney. She’d gone from licking and stuffing envelopes
in the bowels of the building to being the head secretary to the CEO
of the company. His corner office had an outer corner office that was
all hers to enjoy, and enjoy she did, smiling sweetly at the other
secretaries there when they were forced to bring paperwork to her
from their own department heads. The only person higher than her boss
was the actual President, and the word was out that his secretary of
thirty years had fallen ill and probably wouldn’t be returning.
Francesca had been biding her time, waiting for the seventy year old
woman to find kick the can. She wanted that job, and she already had
the ticket in hand on how to get it.
“Mail!”
she called cheerily, giving a small knock on the partially opened
door before entering.
Stevens
looked up in surprise, but with immediate appreciation when he took
in her outfit of choice for the day. Leopard print stilettos went
well with her coal black business suit. The front was cut low enough
for her double D tits to be on display, but not quite falling out
thanks to the new bra she’d gotten over the weekend.
Francesa
purposely locked the door before crossing the room slowly, her skirt
hitching up to just under her butt when she slid onto the edge of her
boss’s desk. His eyes watched her and she just smiled, biting her
bottom lips as she slid a stack of mail and paperwork in front of
him.
“What
about that one?” Stevens asked, his gaze now glued to the tiny
white envelope she still held.
Francesa
didn’t answer at first, making sure that he watched when she leaned
over towards him, tracing the envelope over the shape of her breasts
before placing it between her teeth. He was used to the games she
liked to play. It didn’t matter that he had a wife and two teenage
sons at home. They fucked in his office almost every day, sometimes
twice a day when he didn’t have his schedule completely booked. She
waited until he took the envelope from her lips, her tongue licking
where the paper had been before she spoke.
“That’s
your invitation to this weekend’s conference...you’re still going
right?” Francesca asked, pulling free her hastily pinned bun so
that she could toss her long brown locks to one side.
He
smiled as his gaze traveled lower, now on her exposed thighs.
“You
know I’m going...and you also know my wife is coming this
time...”
“I
know...” Francesca pretended to pout, but smile inwardly knowing
already that her plan would work out perfectly.
“I
would love to have you to myself for a whole weekend, but she
suspects something. She doesn’t trust me to be away from home this
time. So what could I say....”
“It’s
fine really... I’m sure you’d rather be fucking her
anyway...”
“You
know that’s not true...” Stevens interrupted, tugging on her
wrist so that she met his gaze.
“I
really want to come. I don’t care that you’re with her. I could
still help out. You’re always so unorganized, and besides old man
Crane has been without a secretary for weeks. He’ll probably need
someone to help him too. I could do both!”
She
went in for the kill, her breath holding when her boss’s eyes
narrowed, jealously flickering across his features.
“I
bet you could help us both...”
“Not
like that! He’s gotta be...what? Seventy...At least!”
“Yeah
Seventy two and stinking fucking rich! I know you Francesca...don’t
think...”
“I
wouldn’t!”
Francesca shook her head, her lips pursed in
annoyance at his insinuation. He was absolutely right. Old man Crane
was the President of the company, and he was
filthy rich. He was also right in thinking she had plans to fuck him.
This conference was the only place she’d get near enough to even
try. She just had to go.
“Maybe
if I let you come...I could come to your room instead of you coming
to mine...”
“Won’t
your wife wonder where you are?”
“When
did you start worrying about how my wife felt? You weren’t worried
about her yesterday in my car.”
“I
just don’t want you to get in trouble...”
“You...”
Stevens paused, gripping both of her arms and pulling her across his
desk into his lap. “Have already gotten me into more trouble than I
want.”
“Really
Mr. Stevens?” Francesca smiled now, groaning the word softly as his
hands slipped up the inside of her thighs.
She
kissed him lightly, her tongue licking his seeking lips, denying him
the taste of her for just a moment.
“Don’t
do that...” Stevens demanded softly, biting her lower lip so that
she had no choice but to open for him.
His
hands slipped further up, his fingers pulling at the lacy material of
the thong she wore while his tongue claimed her mouth, kissing her
hard. She wiggled in his lap, her skirt slipping up around her waist
with the help of his hands. He was already hard, his dick pressing
into her plump ass cheeks as she ground her bottom down, exciting him
further. Their kiss broke, but only long enough for him to maneuver
his hand up to the top buttons of her jacket, nimble finger plucking
them loose so that her black satin covered mounds were exposed to
him.
“Fuck!
I never get tired of seeing them,” Stevens moaned, fingers pulling
downward on the thin material so that her nipples popped free,
hardening instantly.
“You
don’t have time for this right now. Meeting with the head of the
Docer account in ten minutes...”
“Mmm
hmmm...”
He
ignored her, tugging at her bra until it was stuck firmly under each
breast. She watched as he cupped each mound, lifting her tits so that
they were level with his mouth. He was a breasts and ass man; her
tits being his favorite. Long, fat, dark chocolate nipples bumped
against his cheeks when he buried his face against her chest, his
tongue licking around each globe slowly causing her to whimper. She
was instantly wet, her fingers sliding past her bunched skirt to find
the crotch of her panties soaked with her own juices. He took one
nipple in, still squeezing both breasts tightly together as he sucked
hard and long. Francesca forgot about watching the clock for a
moment, her eyes closing in pleasure as her fingers slipped past the
lace of her panties, sinking into juicy folds. He heard the slurping
immediately, his mouth feeding greedily on both nipples at once
pulling them so that they both stood at attention for him.
“god
I wanna fuck you,” Stevens crooned against her tits, his hand
finally releasing one of her breast so that his fingers could play in
her pussy.
Her
legs spread wider when he pinched her lips together between his thumb
and middle finger, exposing her clit in a protruding fashion. The
sensitive bud was still swollen from their late afternoon fuck in his
car yesterday, but that only excited him further, his index finger
flicking at the hot pink bud until it too was slick with her juices.
“Five
minutes...” Francesca reminded him, rocking her hips so that his
dick rubbed fully across her ass.
“I
need more than five minutes,” Stevens laughed as her words broke
off into a moan, two of his fingers now buried deep in the folds of
her sex, stroking her.
Francesca
arched her back for him, cupping her breasts and offering him her
nipples while he finger fucked her slowly. What he could do with his
mouth was a wonder in itself, and she found herself wishing for more
time now too. She suddenly wanted those pulling licks to be
elsewhere, stroking deep inside the hole that was practically gushing
for him now.
It
was if he read her mind. One second she was mewling in pleasure from
his finger strokes, the next he had lifted her up onto the desk,
facing him. A wicked smile played on her lips when his hands clasped
her ankles, raising them so that they were over his shoulders. She
watched as smooth masculine fingers parted fat pussy lips, his eyes
widening with pleasure when he saw the stream of juice dripping from
the center. His face was already lowered, tongue dipping gently
inside her spread hole when a sharp knock sounded on the door.
“Marshall?
Honey are you in there?”
The
voice sounded all too familiar to Francesca, but she couldn’t place
it until she looked down at a frozen Stevens. Gone was the tell tale
lump of his hardened cock against the front of his pants. He jumped
up from his chair and pulled her off his desk in one motion.
“I
can’t get caught!” he hissed at her, shoving her towards the tiny
bar on the far wall of his office.
“What...what
am I supposed to do. Make you two drinks?” Francesca snapped as she
straightened her clothes, snatching her wrist from her boss’s
grasp.
“Hide....please....I’ll
get rid of her! I promise!”
“Where
am I supposed to hide...on the floor...? Behind the bar....?
No.......!”
Francesca
shook her head as she caught the pleading look on Steven’s face,
her gaze following his to the picture hanging on the wall of his
family.
“You
fucking owe me big for this! And I better be going to that damn
conference!”
“Okay!
Okay!” he agreed readily, shooing her behind the bar before pulling
his cell phone from his pocket and putting it to his ear.
Francesca
watched him cross the room in six easy strides, pretending to talk to
someone important while still waving her to her hiding place. He
unlocked the door without another backwards glance, and she sunk out
of sight, settling on her knees behind the tiny bar.
“Hey
Hunni.... Okay Mark.... Yes...Yes I got you. Golf this Saturday....?
You know I can’t. I’ve got this conference on Saturday, and the
wife is joining with me this time, so we decided to make an entire
weekend of it. Get away from the kids ya know? Right! Right! Well
listen Mark, she’s standing here right now, so I gotta go, but call
me this afternoon, maybe we can do a later round of golf after work.
Okay great! See ya!”
Francesca
rolled her eyes when she heard Stevens slide the cell phone closed, a
huge sigh escaping his mouth as quiet settled in his office.
“Your
door was locked...” his wife accused, her tone suspicious.
“My
assistant won’t be in until later. It’s hard to get anything done
without her here to head off interruptions. I figured if I locked my
door, people would think I was out too, and leave me the hell alone
for once. I’m already late for my next meeting.”
“Well
you can be a little late can’t you?”
“Sheila...you
know I’ve got to get everything in before we leave tomorrow. With
my assistant out, I’m struggling today....”
“Well...that’s
why I’m here....I....”
Hairs
raised on the back of Francesca’s neck at that little pause. She
noticed the way his wife’s voice had dropped, her words almost
teasingly whiny. Now this Bitch wasn’t trying to....
“Oh
wow!” Francesca heard Stevens say, and she was leaning forward,
just enough so that she could see past the edge of the bar.
There
they stood, facing each other with the door slightly open. His wife
was in a simple white cotton wrap dress that hung open -unwrapped.
She held either end wide, her body fully naked besides the material
hanging from her shoulders. Even from her little hiding spot
Francesca could still see that Stevens was instantly hard, his
nervousness almost not showing now as he cupped his wife’s titties
in his hands and squeezed. A soft little moan escaped his wife’s
lips as he kneaded the pale pink buds slowly, his mouth dipping to
bite one between his teeth.
He’s
going to fuck her while I’m sitting right here!
Francesca
fumed inwardly, her hands curling into first as she watched Sheila
reached back to shut and lock the office door.
“I’m
sorry I’ve been so suspicious baby...let me make up for it?” she
pleaded softly, lowering to her knees right now, her hands already
working on his belt.
Francesca
ducked back as Stevens looked towards the bar, guilt in his
expression even though a groan escaped his lips. She waited a few
seconds before leaning forward again, jealousy shifting through her
as she took in the scene. His cock was already free, bobbing up and
down as his wife pulled gently on the tip with her mouth. He seemed
to have forgotten that she could blow his cover at any moment, and
instead had his hands tangled in the mass of blonde curls on his
wife’s head, pulling her face forward so that she took more of him
in. Gagging sounds reached Francesca’s ears and she cringed, hating
herself for sleeping with him in the first place. She watched as
Stevens stroked his wife’s mouth slowly at first, one of his hands
wrapping around the base of his dick so that he could shake it
roughly, smacking it against her tongue. This seemed to excite Sheila
too, spit now drizzling down her chin and into the valley between her
breasts, leaving a slick shiny trail on her body that her fingers
played in. She was oblivious to the fact that Francesca knelt fuming
mad behind the bar, her own pussy throbbing with the ache of wanting
a dick inside of her. She watched his wife suck him off, titty
fucking him with tiny milky white breasts that could barely be pushed
together. No wonder Stevens loved Francesca’s body so much, his
wife was working with nothing! Now that the white cotton wrap dress
was on the floor, Francesca saw the tale tell stretch marks of child
birth etched across the other woman’s stomach. She was a tiny
little thing...a waif really, but flabby in all the wrong places.
Jiggly hips and an even jigglier tummy was the least flattering. The
fact that she looked rail thin and was still so out of shape
disgusted Stevens and Francesca knew it. He complained to her all the
time how he couldn’t get turned on enough to fuck her anymore,
grabbing all that cellulite.
“What’s
wrong baby...?” Francesca heard Sheila murmur as she stood, her
tiny hands now wrapped around her husband’s shrinking dick,
stroking him.
“Nothing...nothing...Come
here,” he brushed her off his cock, lifting her up instead so that
her legs wrapped around his waist.
Francesca
smirked at the saggy ass that mooned her now, Sheila’s back to the
bar as Stevens turned slightly, his eyes on Francesca. His wife
immediately moaned when her pushed her down on his now semi erect
dick, her arms wrapped around his neck holding on. Francesca could
see from the droop in his balls that things were only going to get
worse, he wasn’t turned on and he was trying for all he was worth
to keep what little erection he had. She almost felt sorry for
Sheila, watching them together was like watching paint dry. Nothing
at all like how he was when he was fucking her.
This
was her perfect opportunity for payback. He wouldn’t be fucking her
again, even if he begged, and she wanted him to see what he would be
losing after the conference. She slid slowly forward, careful not to
make any noise as she moved to sit on her bottom, her legs spread
wide so that Stevens had a good view. His eyes practically bugged out
of his head his gaze snatching back and forth between Francesca’s
displayed pussy and his wife’s closed eyes.
“Oh
yeah! Fuck me harder!” Sheila moaned, trying to bounce up and down
on his suddenly stiffening cock.
“Like
that baby! Yeah! Like that!” Stevens murmured, his eyes glued on
Francesca’s pussy as she spread the lips wide for him to see the
soft pink tissue within.
Unlike
his wife, her ass was nice and firm, round cheeks bouncing on the
plush carpet as she raised her hips, putting one hand behind her to
prop herself up. She ground in the air like this, fingers stroking
her protruding clit as she watched his balls tighten and swell into
one massive lump. He was turned on just watching her, and Francesca
loved the lust that filled his eyes when she rested her bottom back
on the floor, her other hand pulling open her jacket so that he
breasts spilled free. Her bra was still trapped under each mound, and
all it took was the cool air of the office to perk her nipples up to
full fatness, the long brown tips glistening when she rubbed juices
from her pussy over them.
“Oh
fuck! Do that!”
“This?”
Sheila asked in confusion, rocking her hips awkwardly from side to
side, throwing them both off balance.
Francesca
nodded and smiled, pulling on each nipple, rolling and twisting them
until both globes took on a deep blush. She
was turned on now. Stevens was fully hard and was pumping in and out
of his wife’s pussy as if he was actually enjoying it. Long deep
strokes, over and over again, Francesca matched his rhythm with her
fingers, two and then three of her digits buried past the knuckle,
curled and stroking her spot.
“MMmm
yeah baby! You know I love that! I love that pussy!” Stevens
practically howled, his face flushing red as he struggled to hold his
wife up, keep up the stroke and watch Francesca at the same time.
She
was close to cuming too. That familiar throb had already started the
second her fingers rubbed her spot, and watching Stevens fuck his own
wife had begun to turn her own. Francesca stroked her pussy hard now,
arching her back so that her breasts jiggled with every stroke. She
wanted her boss to see just how hard she was finger fucking herself,
and how much he was missing.
The
look on his face did it. Regret...Remorse....she didn’t know. Her
eyes closed as warm juices squirted from her pussy arcing in the air
before landing on the carpet just in front of her spread legs. She
pulled her fingers free as the orgam rocketed from deep within her
pussy walls, squeezing the lips instead so that the rest of her cream
came in a gush spraying the carpet with wetness.
“Holy
Fuck! I’m cuming baby! Holy Fuck!”
“You’re
cuming?” Sheila opened her eyes in confusion, legs slipping from
around his waist as he pulled out of her, pushing her to the floor by
her shoulders.
Stevens
had made it very clear to Francesca that he didn’t want any more
children. He claimed the only time his wife ever tried to sleep with
him now was when she was ovulating. She’d taken 40 hard and decided
that she wanted another baby.
Francesca
opened her eyes enough to watch through the slits as he squirted a
thick glob of cum in Sheila’s eyes and across her face. She cried
out in surprise and then in anger when he squeezed her cheeks
roughly, forcing her mouth open for the last bit of goo shooting from
the tip of his dick.
“What
the fuck are you doing? What the fuck is wrong with you!” Sheila
spat, swiping her hands across her face in disgust.
Francesca
almost laughed out loud when Sheila really did begin to cry,
stumbling on her knees in a crawl to find her dress. She had been
blinded by the wad of cum he’d shot in her eyes and was now wiping
furiously at her face while simultaneously trying to pull on the
crumpled dress.
“That’s
what you wanted....? A good fuck right....?”
Francesca
slid back behind the bar as the sound of Stevens face being smacked
pierced the chilly office air. She adjusted her clothes while they
argued, waiting until she heard his door slam before peaking out from
her hiding place again.
“What
the fuck do you call that shit? I thought you didn’t fuck your wife
anymore? I thought I was the only one for you. You’re just like all
the other suits here, thinking only of yourself and fucking whoever
you can in the process!” Francesca fumed as she stood, pretending
to be more pissed than she really was.
She
hadn’t planned on being his secretary after tomorrow anyway, but
he’d still disrespected her by fucking his wife right there in
front of her. She waited for an answer while he buckled his belt, his
face livid when he touched his cheek and realized that his eye was
already starting to swell.
“That,
my dear was a corporate screw, my wife will always come before you,
so go fuck yourself! Stevens spat, finally glancing at her before
opening the door to his office.