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TRUST video recorded wife slowly dressing

The attached work of fiction is intended to be entertainment for adults in

locations where it is legal. If it is illegal in your location, DO NOT

read. This is a copyrighted work. Reposting or any other use strictly

prohibited without the express, written permission of the copyright holder,

except may be posted as part of a review or posted to free-access,

noncommercial archive sites.

Copyright 1999 by E. Z. Riter.

E-mail address: ezriter@hotmail.com

Please! Give me your comments!

TRUST

My wife, Denise, had been very agitated lately. Something was bothering

her, but my inquiries were deflected out-of-hand. Since nothing seemed

wrong between us, I told myself it was work related. When she came home

Thursday night, her anxiety had reached a new peak.

"What's going on?"

"We need to talk," she said. "Mix me a drink and make it strong,

please."

Five years ago when she was nineteen, Denise went to work for a large

privately owned company. Smart, a hard worker and good looking, she'd been

promoted from the typing pool through the ranks. A month ago, she was

selected to be one of the three executive assistants to Mr. J. Woodward

Chase, the billionaire owner.

The promotion had three unusual job requirements. She had to dye her

hair blonde, maintain her figure, and Mr. Chase would select and pay for

all her work clothing. The clothes he selected were demure, classy and

expensive with an elegant, understated sexiness. Denise looked good as a

blonde. She'd inherited a narrow waisted, full breasted figure from her

mother which required little diet and exercise to maintain. The clothes

made her look even better.

"I want you to listen to everything I have to say, Danny. Don't get up

and run off. Okay?"

"Sure, baby. What's wrong? Did I do something?"

"No, honey. It's about work. It's a long story."

"I'm all ears," I replied, settling back into my chair.

"Do you know why I was picked to be one of Mr. Chase's assistants?"

"Besides the fact you're wonderful? No. Why?"

"He can trust me. I treat everything like it was top secret. I always

have. I would've had more friends among the secretaries if I'd shared

gossip from time to time, but I never did. Trust is very important to me."

"You are very trustworthy."

"Yes, I am and so are you. That's one of the things I've always admired

about you. Trust is the cornerstone of a marriage as well as a business

relationship, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is," I said.

"About a year ago I heard a rumor Mr. Chase had a mistress who gave

birth to three children by him. I didn't believe it. All rich men have

wild stories floating around about them, you know, about women or crooked

deals or whatever."

She took a deep breath and sipped at her scotch and water.

"As an executive assistant, I see his personal, confidential files,

things no one else sees. Some of these files relate to that rumor. The

rumor's true. His mistress gave birth to three of his children. Only,

Danny, it's not one mistress - it's four. Four women have had his children

out of wedlock."

"You're kidding me."

"No, I'm not. It's true. Mr. Chase has nineteen children, seven with

his wife and three each by four other woman. I wondered why any man would

want so many. I did some reading. Many anthropologists think all men have

a deep biological urge to impregnate as many women as possible."

"I've read about that. All mammals have it."

"Mr. Chase certainly does. He's very intelligent, physically large and

powerful, and rich, so if all that's the result of good genes, his must be

very good."

"There are other gene qualities, you know," I said.

"Yes, there are. All sorts of things are genetically based. Life

expectancy is inherited, in part anyway, as are heart attacks, cancers, and

a whole bunch of other diseases."

"I'd never really thought about it. I must have some good genes, too.

Everybody in my family lives into their seventies."

"My family's even longer lived, but nothing compared to Mr. Chase.

He's fifty-three. His father's going strong at seventy-two and his

grandfather's ninety-four. His great-grandfather died at one hundred

three. old Mr. Chase has a forty-year-old girl friend, so even that works,

I suspect."

"Denise, why are we discussing this?" The back of my neck tingled.

"Women have a tougher time of it. We're the givers of birth and the

ones who raise the young. The future of the species depends upon how well

we do our job. Women have to select a man to love and who loves them,

someone who will care for them and help care for their children. And we

have to select the right man to impregnate us so the children'll carry the

best possible genes."

The tingle exploded into tremors.

"What does that mean?"

"I've been thinking about having a baby."

"Oh? When we talked about it a month ago, you wanted to wait until you

were thirty."

"That's true, but I've been thinking about it a lot lately. I'm ready

now. I want to be pregnant."

"And?" I said. I felt light headed and sweat beaded on my brow.

She leaned forward. Her eyes were pin points of intensity. "Do you

trust me, Danny? Do you trust me with your life and your future?"

"Yes."

"Then you must trust me on this, too, because it's our future. Ours and

our children. You must trust my instinct to do what's best for all of us."

"What are you trying to say?" The sweat flowed and I wiped my face with

my handkerchief.

"My instinct, my gut-level female intuition, tells me to select the best

male for loving, living with, and nurturing my children. That's you. It's

always been you. I love you, Danny. Trust me on that. "

I didn't answer. I don't think she expected one, but I couldn't speak

if she did.

"Those same instincts tell me to choose the best possible gene pool to

impregnate me. Danny, Mr. Chase wants me to be his fifth mistress and

have three children by him. He asked me Wednesday."

"Go on," I croaked.

"I accepted. I'll become his mistress and have his three children. I

know it's the best thing for the children and for us."

"Do you love him?"

"No! Trust me, Danny. This isn't love. This is biology and genetics.

I don't want to spend my life with him."

"But you want him, not me, to father your children."

"Our children. The ones we'll raise together."

"Is it about sex?"

"What do you mean?"

"Have you had sex with him?"

"No, of course not."

"Has he asked you to do it?"

"No, he hasn't."

"Do you want to?"

"I must have sex with him in order to have his children. That's what

this is about, having children."

"But do you want to have sex with him?"

"Danny, don't you trust me?"

"Of course I do."

"Then you know I've always been faithful to you."

"If it's about children, well, are we going to have any?"

"We'll have three children."

"No, I mean are you going to have any children I father."

"I knew what you meant, but it's important you realize these three will

be yours. Your nurturing will help mold them. I don't think we should

have more than three. That'll be enough."

"I don't like this. You need to tell him no."

"Weren't you listening? I agreed to do it."

"Maybe that decision was for you, but it wasn't for me."

"Yes, it was. It was for us. You have to trust me and my intuition,

Danny."

"And if I don't trust you on this, Denise? What then?"

"If you don't trust me, how can I trust you? I can't let a man I don't

trust help me raise my children. It's too important."

She yawned and stretched, letting her robe open to treat me to a view of

her body. "I'm ready for bed, honey. Please come hold me."

That was as demonstrative as Denise ever got in asking for sex. We made

love as we always did. I played with her until she warmed up. She brought

her knees up, letting me enter her. I pumped away until my orgasm came.

She put a towel between her legs and rolled over, her back to me, and went

to sleep. We did it that way twice a week, sometimes three.

I sometimes wondered if she really liked sex. She assured me she almost

always orgasmed. I could feel the contractions of her pussy on my cock,

hear her breathing change and feel the elevation of her body heat, so I

believed her. But where was the explosion? Where were the sweat, the

moaning and the other signs? Where was the ecstasy and passion?

Maybe that was it. Maybe I wasn't sexually pleasing her and that's why

she wanted to accept Mr. Chase's offer. Maybe it was pure lust. She

slept soundly beside me as I thought about the bombshell she'd dropped on

me that night. It was early morning when sleep finally came. I wished a

decision had come with it.

Denise awakened me the next morning. "We have a four o'clock

appointment this afternoon with Mr. Chase. He'll explain the financial

arrangements to you."

"What financial arrangements?"

"Of me being his mistress. Have a good day, honey. I'll see you at

four and don't you dare be late." She kissed me on the cheek and left me

with the same thoughts I'd had all night.

I arrived at three fifty-five dressed in my best suit. Their offices

were on the top floor of a major office building. I went to the

thirty-third floor, cleared security, changed elevators and continued to

the top. The floor receptionist passed me to the receptionist for Mr.

Chase.

Denise was beaming when she came out. She took both my hands and kissed

me on the cheek. "I'm so glad you're here. You don't understand how

valuable Mr. Chase's time is. His meeting with us is quite an honor."

"He should be honored you agreed to be his mistress," I said under my

breath.

"Danny, many women would love to have an offer like this. He picked us

and it's our honor. Now be on your best behavior."

Mr. Chase was standing beside a large conference table covered in

documents. Two men and two women were with him. "His key men and the

other E.A.s," Denise whispered. Both the women were very attractive,

blonde, built, and beautifully dressed, just like Denise. I wondered if

either of them had been offered the "honor" he offered us.

J. Woodward Chase was what I expected. Physically imposing,

immaculately groomed, he was a large man, thick and barrel chested as well

as tall. He greeted me warmly and started small talk to put me at ease.

If he had special feelings for Denise, they didn't show. I was surprised I

liked him in spite of the situation. I knew I'd respect and, maybe, fear

him. Liking him was a plus. Finally, he turned to the topic at hand.

"What has Denise told you about my offer, Dan?" he asked.

"Very little except she'll become your mistress and bear three of your

children."

"That's the emotional bottom line," he said with a smile. "Let me tell

you about the financial bottom line. Do you know what a trust is?"

"Not really."

"A trust is a legal agreement which transfers assets to a trustee for

the benefit of someone," he began. I listened closely as he explained the

agreement establishing a trust for Denise, me and the three children of his

she would bear. When I looked at her, she was smiling happily and appeared

unconcerned about the financial ramifications. I wondered if she'd been

over them previously or if her motivation was non-financial.

"In addition, I'll bonus out one hundred thousand dollars after tax to

Denise on the day the agreement's signed to be used as down payment on a

new house and its furnishings," Mr. Chase concluded.

"How much do you expect the income from the trust to be, Mr. Chase?"

"Before taxes, about two hundred thousand a year. That's a four per

cent return on the five million trust principle."

I blanched. He was watching me intently. Denise seemed to be in

another world.

Maybe that was it. Maybe it was the money because there was a lot of it

in this trust. I was making sixty thousand a year. Two hundred thousand

more seemed like a dream. When the trust terminated, Denise, the three

children and I would have a million in cash each. It was mindboggling.

"The reason for the trust, Dan, is to provide a good life style for my

children and their mother. I wouldn't bring a child into the world and not

provide for them financially. Denise would continue to work here until she

became pregnant with the first child. After that, her responsibility would

be raising those kids. Part of the agreement would be that you continue to

work. I want a stable, normal household for them."

"Thank you for explaining it, Mr. Chase. It's very generous."

"I want the best for my children and their family, Dan. Trust me when I

say I'll never intrude upon their lives, but I'll be there if wanted or

needed."

Mr. Chase's expression appeared to be honest and sincere, but a man
didn't reach his position without controlling his emotions. Denise was a

cat, inscrutable.

"May I ask about the sexual part?" I inquired.

"What do you want to know?" Mr. Chase replied.

"I assume you'll have sex with her at least three times."

His eyes were cold when they cut to Denise. Her expression didn't

change.

"Dan, I thought you understood that. She'll be my mistress. I'll have

sex with her when and where I want. It won't be just to impregnate her.

If we agree to this, we'll have sex immediately. After about a year,

she'll go off the pill. I like to space the babies two years apart. After

she's recovered from the birth of the third baby, she and I will take a

week together somewhere. Our sexual relations will end after that week.

So, for about eight years, Denise and I'll have sex on a regular basis."

Denise's expression still didn't change, but her legs were crossed and

the foot in the air was rocking back and forth.

"You understood that, didn't you, Denise?" he asked.

"Yes, Mr. Chase. I understood," she replied. Her voice was sultry,

like I'd never heard.

My emotions were a jumbled mass, like neutrons in a particle

accelerator. Mr. Chase must have seen that.

"Denise, excuse us. I want to talk to Dan alone."

She bolted upright, shaking and apprehensive. She started to speak, but

his look silenced her. She didn't look at me as she turned on her heel and

walked from the room.

"Want a drink, Dan?" Mr. Chase asked.

"If you're having one."

"I think I will. What'll you have?"

"Scotch and water, please."

He pushed a button and one of his executive assistants appeared. He

introduced her as Virginia and ordered drinks, which she prepared before

leaving us. After we sat in his conversation area, he loosened his tie and

took a sip.

"Dan, I don't think Denise being my mistress is a good idea."

That floored me and I gasped, "Why?"

"If I put ads in the major papers offering this trust arrangement, I'd

have five million women accept within two days. But - this isn't something

I do lightly. I'm concerned about the women and my children. I do care.

While I provide genes and money, the children will be raised outside my

direct control and that always concerns me. I've never had a married
mistress and, at this point, the dynamics trouble me."

"Why?" I knew why I was troubled, but why was he?

"When Denise asked me to make her my mistress, I . . . "

"Excuse me, Mr. Chase. Denise asked you?"

"Yes, she did. That's another troublesome issue. I've always initiated

the agreement."

"She told me you asked her."

He reached under the table next to the couch and Virginia appeared

again. "Put on the tape of Denise from Wednesday, Virginia," he said. A

screen lowered from the ceiling.

"It's ready, Mr. Chase. Would you like another drink?" she asked,

handing him a remote control. She refreshed our drinks before leaving.

"Denise and Charlotte really report to Virginia. She's assistant number

one. She's forty-nine, happily married, and been with me since she was

eighteen. We had a brief affair when we were both young and single. I

haven't touched her in almost thirty years, but I trust her with my life.

She knows things the others don't know, such as everything in this office

can be recorded on both audio and video."

Nervously, I sipped my drink.

"I recorded my discussion with Denise on Wednesday. I want you to see

it."

The screen lit up. Denise was standing in front of his desk. She

looked excited.

"Yes, Denise," he said.

"I'd like to talk to you, Mr. Chase."

"About what?"

"I overheard Virginia talking to Charlotte about protocol relating to

Margaret Woodman."

"That's no concern of yours, Denise."

She took a step toward his desk. Her tongue flicked across her lips.

Erect, head held high, she was poised and beautiful. However, there was

hesitation in her eyes, an indecisiveness which flickered in her heat.

"Well, Denise, whatever it is, spit it out," Mr. Chase said. He

sounded irritated and I wished I could see his face.

"How do you select your mistresses?" she asked. The words burst from

her. A tear rolled down her right cheek and she turned beet red. A tremor

starting in her feet rolled up her body.

"Why do you ask?"

She opened her mouth, but no words came out. Another tear fell, then a

few more followed it, one by one. Her hands clenched and unclenched.

"Why do you ask?" he repeated softly. Still, she didn't answer. "Why

don't you leave and come back when you're ready to talk." She took a step

backward, then another. She turned away as if to leave, stopped and turned

back to him again.

"You know why I asked, " she accused.

"Yes, I do, but I want you to say it. If you can't say it, you can't do

it."

Her head bowed as she nodded agreement. She shyly whispered, "I want to

be your mistress."

"Do you know what that means?"

"Yes. I'll have your babies."

"It's more than that. You and I will be lovers. We'll make love

whenever I want."

She stared at him, open mouthed and wide eyed. "I knew there'd be many

times, but I didn't think about all the time."

"Why don't you think about it? Now, if you'll excuse me."

Defeated and dejected, she walked away. The screen went black and the

lights came on. Mr. Chase was studying me now as I'm sure he studied

Denise that day.

"Want a refill on that drink, Dan?"

I nodded. We were silent as Virginia again refreshed the drinks.

"That film was shot at nine-thirty in the morning. What you're going to

see now started at foureleven in the afternoon."

The lights went off and the screen lit up. Denise was again standing in

front of his desk.

"Yes, Denise."

"I've thought about it. I want to do it." Her eyes were alert and

excited, her face radiant.

"Do what?"

"Be your mistress."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Very sure." She did look sure. She'd reached a decision.

"I'm glad to hear it. You're a very intelligent and attractive young
woman. Let's get started. Take your clothes off."

"Now?" she whispered.

"Yes, now. Take you clothes off and then we'll have sex."

"All right," she said in a hoarse, sexy tone.

Denise's eyes were wide with anticipation as her hands reached for the

top button of her blouse. The screen went blank and the lights turned on.

Mr. Chase was watching me intently. My hands were shaking and I finished

my drink in one gulp.

As Virginia refilled our drinks, I thought about what Denise had told

me. She'd said Mr. Chase didn't ask her to have sex. That was true, in a

way, I guess. He didn't ask; he ordered. What had she said about her

wanting sex with him? I couldn't remember, but she seemed eagerly ready to

participate. My emotions were wild and confused. I didn't know if I

trusted myself to sit through the rest of that tape.

"I can't imagine what's going on in your mind right now," Mr. Chase

said. There was compassion in his voice. "Are you all right?" He waited

patiently.

"I want to see the rest of the tape," I stammered.

The lights went out. That day Denise had worn a sleeveless, hot pink,

form fitting blouse buttoned to the neck, over an uplift bra. Her charcoal

black skirt was very tight and ended four inches above her knees. She wore

open toed black pumps with four inch heels and nude colored stockings.

Her eyes danced as she slipped the top button through its eyelet and

parted the neck of the blouse. Slowly, her fingers undid the second button

and the third. Her eyes never left him.

Her movements and expression subtly changed as she undid the fourth

button. Her fingers struggled with a once simple task. Her eyes dimmed

and uncertainty clouded over them. The fourth button opened and the pink

of her bra was visible.

Her struggle increased with the fifth button. With the sixth, she

appeared shocked by what was happening, but her fingers continued as if

someone else was moving them. She gasped when she unzipped her skirt and

it slipped down. Held by one last button, the tail of her blouse covered

her panties.

"No," she mouthed, but the last button opened and the blouse slipped

from her shoulders. Her sheer bra trapped, but displayed, the bounty of

her breasts. The full lips of the treasure between her legs strained

against the wet transparency of her bikini panties. She froze that way,

her face anguished, her body ripe and ready.

On the film, the phone rang.

"Damn it, Charlotte, my 'no interrupt' light is on," Mr. Chase said

fiercely into the intercom.

"I'm sorry, sir," she pleaded, "but it's the Secretary of Commerce. He

insisted."

"This phone call will take a long time, Denise. We'll have to continue

this later," Mr. Chase said.

As the audio recorded a captain of industry talking to a Cabinet

officer, the video recorded my wife slowly dressing. She looked sexually

frustrated, but relieved. When she left on the film, the lights came on.

"I wanted you to see the rest of the tape. Nothing happened between

us."

Nothing happened, or had it? She'd stripped to her underwear for him.

She would've fucked him, but the phone rang. When does the adultery occur:

when there's agreement to fuck or when there's fucking? When does the lie

occur: with intent or with action?

"Your wife is very conflicted over this as you saw in the video. You're

not sure either, Dan. I want a stable life for my children. The way you

both feel, stability is problematic. That's why I don't want to pursue an

agreement."

He stood, indicating the meeting was ending. "I'll say this," he said,

"your wife's a ripe plum. Somebody's going to pick her."

"What does that mean?" I asked.

"My guess is your sex life is quiet and calm." I nodded and he smiled

knowingly. "The first storm that thunders into her life will blow her off

her feet. She wants to be taken, Dan. She wants to be taken long, hard

and often. That and the money is what's driving her, not the babies.

Trust me on this."

Denise was waiting when I left Mr. Chase's office. She was tense,

snapping short questions to ask what happened. When I told her to shut up,

she burst into tears. Our evening was a tactical battle of belligerent

thrusts and parries. We didn't touch or talk except to argue. I slept in

the extra bedroom.

I was eating my cereal in the morning when she came out dressed for

work. She wore another uniform. This one was an emerald green dress with a

scooped neckline and skirt which ended at mid thigh.

"Are you going to do this, Dan? Yes or no." Her tone was short.

My answer was going to be the death knell of our marriage, but I

couldn't live with it any other way.

"No, Denise, I'm not."

"Well, I'm going to do it. Since I can't trust you to trust and support

me, I want a divorce."

"I'm sorry we're ending this way. I love you," I said, as a tear

slipped down my cheek.

"Love? I think you did. I think I loved you, too, but it's over now.

Goodbye, Dan."

I spent the day chewing on the broken remains of my marriage. They

tasted rancid in my mouth. By mid afternoon, tears had flushed love away,

leaving an void in my heart. If money and genes meant that much to her,

let her go to them. I'd lead my own life. I might not be rich, but I'd

have my pride and my honor. Someday I'd have a woman who loved me and

wanted to have my children.

The door bell rang about four. I was surprised to find Virginia there.

"May I come in?" she asked.

"Certainly, but why are you here?"

"I'll explain," she replied. I guided her to the living room couch.

"Mr. Chase would like for you to sign some legal papers. If you want

an attorney that's acceptable, but these are so simple you can easily

understand them. First, a divorce agreement. Denise has already signed

it. You get everything, including her car. She'll take only her clothes

and jewelry. She'll return the engagement and wedding rings you gave her."

"I don't want them."

"Neither does she. You can hock them."

The agreement was simple and straightforward as she stated. I signed

it.

"Our lawyers will file the divorce agreement Monday morning. State law

requires a two-month wait, but the judge won't have any problems with this.

Consider it done. Next, a confidentiality agreement between Mr. Chase and

you."

It, too, was simple and straightforward. He was paying me a hundred

thousand dollars for my confidentiality. I signed it and took the check.

"There's one other thing," Virginia said. "Do you have a VCR?"

"Yes," I answered. She handed me a tape.

"This was taken this morning," she said. The time in the corner showed

nine ten.

Denise was standing in front of Mr. Chase's desk again. She looked

wildly alive and energized.

"Good morning, Denise," he said.

"Good morning, Mr. Chase. I'm ready to be your mistress," she replied.

"Are Dan and you both in agreement?"

"No, but I want to do it. I've told him I want a divorce," she said

emphatically.

"You're willing to divorce your husband over this? He means that little

to you?"

"Yes. I'm ready for a change."

"And have three babies to raise by yourself? That's quite a burden, not

as much fun as it sounds at first."

"It's what I want," she said, but I detected uncertainty. I was sure

Mr. Chase could see it.

"Don't you trust yourself to be honest? Don't you trust me enough to

tell me?"

"Tell you what?"

"What you really want."

Denise starting to tremble. Sweat appeared on her forehead and she

licked her dry lips.

"You don't want the babies. You want the money," Mr. Chase said.

"Everyone wants financial security."

"And you want the sex. You want wild, mind blowing, uninhibited sex."

"Yes," she hissed. "Yes, I want it."

"Money and sex is what you want."

"No. I want sex and money, in that order," she countered with a leer.

He laughed and she laughed with him.

"Instead of the trust agreement and having my children, let's make a

different deal, Denise. Let's start with a nice townhouse beautifully

furnished, a new BMW Z3, more clothes and jewelry. I'll pay all your

expenses. In addition, I'll give you a hundred thousand dollars now, and

another hundred thousand at the end of the first year. I'll give you two

hundred thousand at the end of the second through fifth years. That's a

million dollars in securities and cash over five years. That's as much as

you'd get from the trust and you don't have to wait to have it."

"And the sex?" she asked.

"Are you wet between your legs, Denise?"

"Yes."

"Damp or flowing?"

"Flowing," she gasped.

"I'll tell you how, when and where I want you. If you're not hot and

eager to please me or if you tell me no, the deal's off. I'll share you

with some friends. If you tell them no, the deal's off, and it's off if

another man touches you without my permission. Uninhibited sex at my

command and under my control, that's what I'm paying you for, Denise. Do

you understand?"

"Yes," she sobbed.

"You'll have more sexually variety this way. Under the trust agreement,

you'd be limited to Dan and me. This way there will be many different men,

but you'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"Yes."

"You agree to do this because it's what you want."

"Yes. Yes!"

"Let's get started. Take your clothes off."

There was no hesitation today, no false modesty, no indecisiveness.

Arrogantly, she stripped away the burden of her clothes. Her panties were

kicked away with disdain.

"Very nice, but do you know what to do what that body?"

"Yes. Danny didn't, but I'll bet you do."

"Yes, I do," he replied.

In a moment, Mr. Chase was in the picture. Her face was lust as she

undressed him. When she yanked down his boxers, a magnificent cock, hard

and purple, popped in her face. He commanded, "Suck me."

Denise refused me oral sex, but she sucked Mr. Chase's cock with

abandon. When it was wet with her saliva, he held the back of her head and

fucked her face. The camera recorded her wide eyes and the bulge in her

cheeks as he mercilessly drove his cock deep into her mouth.

"That was marginal, Denise. You need to become a good little cocksucker
if you expect me to be happy with you," he said. "Let's see if you fuck

any better than you blow." He yanked her to her feet, shoved her face down

over the back of an arm chair, and said, "Grab the chair arms and don't let

go."

She was facing the camera. He was behind her. I couldn't see the

connection, but I could see them. She twisted and groaned lustily.

"Stick it in," she begged, wiggling her ass.

"Want to be fucked, little whore?"

"Yes, yes, I want you to fuck me."

She squealed when he thrust in all the way and stopped. His stroke was

so strong he lifted her feet off the floor. She kicked and moaned as her

first orgasm hit her. Orgasm after orgasm crashed over her, in waves of

heat, sweat and spasms, as he pounded her with long, hard strokes. He

fucked her cunt until she collapsed across the chair. It was a display of

hard fucking I'd only imagined, but he wasn't finished with her.

"No," she whispered.

"What did you say?" he growled.

"I didn't mean it, but, please don't, that will hurt."

He grabbed her by the throat and yanked her head back to his, arching

her. Her big breasts wobbled, their nipples erect and purple red. "If you

ever tell me no about anything again, I'll throw your slutty ass out on the

street. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Mr. Chase."

"I'm not a sweet guy like Dan, not with a whore like you. Ask me to

fuck your ass."

"Mr. Chase, please," she sobbed tearfully.

He swatted her hard across her flank. She squealed and he swatted her

again.

"Fuck my ass," she said through gritted teeth.

"I'm losing patience with you, Denise, and if I lose patience, you lose

a million dollars. Say it like you mean it and always say please."

"Please, Mr. Chase, fuck me in the ass."

"Much better," he said. "Reach back with both hands and spread the

cheeks of your ass for me. Lodge my cock head right against your bud."

"Oh, God, it hurts," she wailed as he slammed into her, burying his cock

to the hilt.

Pinned by his cock between his body and the chair, she was like a live

bug pinned to a mat. As she twisted and turned, one of his hands held her

head firmly in place and the other roughly played with her breasts,

extending her nipples and squeezing hard. I could see the pain in her face

change to passion. I could tell when she started thrusting back to meet

his strokes. It didn't surprise me when she orgasmed again.

"Very nice, Denise. You like a cock up your dark hole, don't you?"

"Yes, Mr. Chase," she whispered.

"You have a nice, tight little asshole. I'm sure I'll use it many

times."

"I'm sure you will," she replied. She had a crooked, little smile.

He popped out of her and shoved her to her knees. She sucked him until

he exploded, covering her face in cum. He collapsed onto the couch.

Denise lay exhausted on the floor, sweaty and cum covered. Mr. Chase

pushed the button and Virginia appeared. She ignored Denise.

"Virginia, send Barton in, please."

"Yes, Mr. Chase," she answered. There was a twinkle in her eye. In a

moment, a big man who looked like a bodyguard entered.

"Yes, Mr. Chase," he said, trying not to look at Denise.

"Barton, Denise is no longer my executive assistant. She's my playtoy.

Would you like to take her for a ride?"

The big man licked his lips. "Yes, sir, Mr. Chase," he said eagerly.

"Do it right here. I want to watch."

Denise was looking at Mr. Chase. Her eyes showed she realized for the

first time exactly what was expected of her. Then they showed she liked

it. The big man dropped his trousers and fell between her legs. Denise

guided him into her. He fucked her hard; she fucked back. When he was

through, he thanked Mr. Chase and didn't speak to her. She sat up and

looked at her boss. She was smiling.

"Not bad, Denise, but you can do better."

"I'd just been well fucked by you and I'm new at this. Give me a little

time," she said with grin.

"You'll do fine, Denise," he said with a laugh. "Virginia'll get you a

suite at the hotel until we lease a townhouse. After you dress, you can

pick out your car."

"Thank you," she replied. As she dressed, she asked, "Do I get a

written agreement, Mr. Chase?"

"No," he answered. "You'll have to trust me."

When she turned to walk away, he called her name. She stopped and

looked back over her shoulder at him.

"What are you, Denise?" he asked in a steely, low, tone.

"I'm your whore," she replied. She looked proud and pleased.

"Do you like being my whore?"

"Am I going to get fucked a lot?"

"Yes, you are."

"Then, yes, I like it, Mr. Chase."

The film ended as Denise left his office.

I couldn't believe what I'd seen, but my cock was rock hard. Virginia

saw it and smiled at me.

"Mr. Chase said to tell you he enjoyed meeting you and good luck in the

future. He arranged to have a woman here at eight. He thought it might

take the edge off. She was to be a surprise gift, but I didn't want you to

take matters in hand," she said, suppressing a laugh.

"Tell him thanks for everything," I replied sincerely.

She stood and hugged me. "A lot of women want a loving, faithful man
they can trust. I turned Mr. Chase down for a man like that - a man like

you. You'll find the right woman. Trust me on that." She kissed my cheek

and let herself out.

I was giddy. Seeing Denise's performances cleft whatever love was left

and energized me for life without her. Some day I'd marry and have

children, but, for now, I wanted to play around, enjoying myself and

sampling what the world had to offer.

The door bell rang at eight, not a minute too soon. I wanted to fuck so

badly my cock was killing me.

When I opened the door, she was standing there, looking beautiful and

sexy. Her back was straight, her breasts high and firm, legs and ass

displayed in a micro skirt and very high heels. She reddened when I

grinned at her. She had the sexual arrogance of a woman who knows she is

what men want and who likes the sex as much as they do.

"Mr. Chase sent me. May I come in?"

"Do come in, Denise."



The End

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