The Pleasure Business
by Rita James
(LLP-794)


CHAPTER ONE 

The Bahamas was a lovely place any time of year, and Freeport, in the 
Bahamas, always had that delicious tropical feel about it. The air was 
pollution-free, and the sights on the Sunrise Highway were totally unlike 
the sights on the Sunrise Highway in Freeport, N.Y. Here, palm trees swayed, 
grass grew the year-round, and the little shops and arcades had colorful 
exteriors. 

Rosalie Martin was always enchanted with this particular Island. She loved 
coming here for the various conventions her company held. She breathed 
deeply through the open cab window as it pulled up in front of the Queen's 
Tavern as she got out. The bell-boys bowed obsequiously, hurrying to take 
her luggage, as they followed her to the front desk. 

"Ah, yes, Mrs. Martin," the desk clerk smiled. "Mr. Martin is not with you, 
I see." 

"Mr. Martin hasn't been with me for several years," she told him, "ever 
since I threw him out of the house and divorced him. Now what room am I in?" 

"You're on the second floor, toward the rear," he told her. 

There were no elevators in this particular hotel. That was one less 
mechanical contrivance, to rust in a hot, moist climate like this one. 

Rosalie asked that her luggage be sent up, and she went wandering through 
the hotel's inner arcade, looking for the bar. She found it, had herself a 
vodka martini, then headed for her room, feeling a little more relaxed. 

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Martin," she heard as she paused outside her door, and 
noticed the room next to hers was occupied by Rand Stroud, the head of the 
entire eastern home office of Residential Insurance. Rand was moving up to 
the presidency of the entire company, and it would be officially announced 
at the final convention meeting Wednesday night. The convention officially 
began on Monday, but Rosalie felt it wiser to come down early Sunday 
mornings to get settled. 

"Mr. Stroud," she nodded, coolly, then went into her room. 

Ironically, she, Rosalie Martin, was slated to move up from District 
Representative into Stroud's place. That is, she and two men were vying for 
the spot, but Rosalie felt confident' she would win it. Her overall 
performance as District Representative and supervisor was far superior to 
those of her two competitors. The only thing not in her favor was her being 
a woman. Residential Insurance was an old-fashioned, hard line company that 
had little respect for women. 

Rosalie had unpacked and everything had been neatly stored in either closets 
or drawers, which was another headache out of the way. 

Removing her staid blue dress and frilly under things, she went into the 
luxurious private bathroom and ran hot water in the tub. She noticed the 
hotel had an assortment of bath oils and soaps on the shelf. She also 
noticed the full length mirrors that had been treated so they wouldn't steam 
up, allowing her to view herself. 

At forty-two, she looked better than most women half her age. Her stomach 
was still flat, her waist still pinched, and her thighs still rounded. She 
had full, firm breasts, the flesh as taut as ever, the areolae a rich tan, 
and her nipples a nut brown. Facially, she liked to think of herself as a 
handsome woman rather than a prissily beautiful Dresden doll. Her hair was 
short and upswept, a chestnut brown with the slightest auburn tinge to it. 
Her pubic hair, soft and sparse, matching her hair color. She had nice 
thighs-firm without being muscular, and her calves were full without being 
fat. All in all she was quite a package, though after her experience with 
that imitation of a man who had been her husband for so many years she had 
no desire to have anything to do with men, least of all with Rand Stroud. He 
was one of those tall, handsome men who thought his good looks were enough 
to conquer any female. Well she was not just any female. As far as she was 
concerned, men were good for taking her out, feeding her, putting a little 
alcohol in her, and a ride home. No man had entered her home since she had 
thrown her husband out, and she, in turn, had entered no other man's home. 

Taking a cigarette from the pack she had brought in with her, she lit up, 
and sank into the bathtub. Being surrounded by lots of bubbly soap and the 
delicious aroma of lilacs felt great. 

She remained in the tub for a half hour, flicking her cigarette ashes on the 
floor, and then the cigarette into the nearby commode. She finally emerged, 
toweling herself down briskly, so that her firm flesh glowed with a rosy 
hue. She proceeded to dress, putting on a light rayon pair of panties, a 
very light net brassiere, nylon foot coverings, sandals, and a white 
sleeveless dress over everything, displaying the cleavage of which she was 
so proud, daring all men to look, but not to touch. 

Leaving her hotel room, she went downstairs and discovered the circular pool 
surrounded by all the other buildings belonging to the hotel where what she 
considered were the lesser guests stayed. She rented a long cushion and put 
it on the wooden chaise she found unoccupied near the pool. From her purse 
she took a pair of sunglasses, put them on, and laid back, letting the sun's 
rays do their work. 

"You can get a burn if you don't put lotion on," the voice of Rand Stroud 
broke into her rest. 

"Where's Mrs. Stroud?" Rosalie asked, thinking to catch him off-guard. 

"At home with the children," he told her, not the least bit perturbed. He'd 
never made a secret of the fact that he was married while he continued 
playing the field. 

"Ummm! And I suppose you're volunteering to put the suntan lotion on me?" 
she asked. 

"Frankly I'd rather not have you greasy," he replied. 

"Frankly, you're not going to have me, at all," she snapped. 

"You're mistaken," he assured her, sitting on the wooden chaise next to 
hers. "I've been waiting for this opportunity for quite some time now, and I 
intend taking full advantage of it. May I suggest that we walk while we 
talk? After all, if we remain on our feet, I'm sure you'll feel safer, at 
least for the moment." 

"That's the first intelligent thing you've said," she told him, getting up, 
noting he was a good six feet tall as she stood next to him. 

He had jet-black hair, straight, and combed back with neither a part, nor a 
wave. His brown eyes were very intense, complementing his natural olive 
complexion. He had a nose that was just the littlest bit too long, coming to 
a point. He was a handsome man, with a firm jaw, broad shoulders, and a body 
which, if not muscular, at least wasn't running to fat. A long time ago he 
had been fat, when Rosalie had first started with Residential as an 
insurance agent, but over the years he had lost a considerable amount of 
weight, and he had kept it off. He wore his blue bermuda shorts and white 
short-sleeved shirt without straining the material in any way. 

They left the hotel grounds and crossed the street to the vast shopping 
area. All the stores were closed being Sunday. They strolled leisurely, 
passing many other people out for an afternoon walk. 

"Permit me to be blunt," he said, as she lit a cigarette. "You've had your 
eye on my job ever since you heard I was going to New Jersey to become 
president of the company." 

"And I'll be every bit as good as you, if not better," she told him, blowing 
a puff of smoke straight ahead. 

"Rosalie, in just a few years, Harry Norton, the chairman of the board, will 
be retiring. I will be moving into his spot. Whoever follows me into the 
eastern supervisor's job has a good shot at the presidency. There are four 
different home office districts, and though the other three supervisors will 
have been with the company for a much greater period of time, there are ways 
you can insure your becoming Residential's first female president." 

"You're telling me then that I'll definitely become the new Regional 
Supervisor?" 

"No indeed. As present supervisor, I can virtually select my own successor. 
Now you're good enough to follow me, but there are certain prejudices 
against you. For me to have to choose you over the men, as we both know, 
you're better than they are, I need one damn good reason. Just remember, if 
I choose a man over you, the company will approve my choice without a qualm. 
If I choose you, I'm going to have to really defend my choice. So far, you 
haven't given me one good reason why I should pick you." 

"What is this, some kind of corporate extortion?" she asked, flicking her 
cigarette away. 

"Call it what you will," he shrugged. "To be very blatant, I want your body. 
I mean to have it in every and any way possible. I'm not telling you I'm 
going to lift you to paradise, nor am I telling you what a fantastic lover I 
am. But I am telling you I wish to enjoy myself with you." 

"I'm a lousy lady, " she told him. 

"I don't care. I fully intend to find out just how lousy for myself. We have 
a connecting door between our rooms. I expect to be able to walk freely back 
and forth between the two rooms, and I want to enjoy you." 

"Even if I acceded to your demands, I'd probably fight you all the way, once 
we were in bed. I don't particularly care for sex. My husband made it all so 
cut and dried." 

"Fight me all you want-once our naked bodies are in the same room. Just 
don't scream, and don't try either kicking me or biting me in any delicate 
areas. I'm neither a masochist nor a sadist. I don't get pleasure from B and 
D, or S and M. I like burying my penis in a woman's orifices with as little 
resistance as possible. You can lie there like a log if you wish, or you can 
rage and struggle and curse, or-if the mood grabs you, you can even enjoy 
it, but remember, I want you. I want you starting now, and for the entire 
convention." 

"What guarantee do I have you ll nominate me if I do?" 

"I guarantee not to nominate you if you don't. " 

"I'd like time to consider it," Rosalie told him. 

"The more time you take to consider, the less time we'll spend together. 
Let's cut the bullshit. You want my job. The only way you're going to get it 
is by my recommendation. The only way you're going to get my recommendation 
is to give me what I want. This is what it all boils down to. You do for me, 
I do for you." 

"For how long?" Rosalie asked. 

"For starters, the entire time of the convention." 

"You said something about the presidency of Residential being open in a few 
years when you move up to chairman of the board." 

"For that, you'll have to be prepared to offer your ... ahhh ... services 
more liberally, and on a full-time basis." 

"There are so many younger women working for the company. Why aren't you 
going after them?" Rosalie wanted to know. 

"Every one of them is ambitious, like yourself. Every one of them is also a 
bit more realistic. I could have any one of them for the asking, and I 
eventually probably will. I'll probably have all of them. However you're the 
one I want as a sort of semi-permanent mistress." 

"If I should marry?" 

"So what? I'm married. No, dear, I'm afraid I'd want your body even if you 
got married again. I'd want it even after you were elected president." 

"I might promise, and, assuming I am eventually elected, back out, 
afterward." 

"That bridge is a few years away. I'll cross it at the proper time, if 
that's all right with you." 

"I'll hate you every time." 

"That should make it all the more interesting. I've never constantly fucked 
a woman who hates me. It ought to be a novelty. At least there won't be any 
pretended orgasms or sounds of salacious moanings," he laughed. 

"I'll fight you to the best of my ability every time, and if you do succeed 
in entering me, I'll lie there like the log you mentioned once. You won't 
enjoy me." 

"You underestimate yourself, and overestimate my needs. Come come, Rosalie. 
No more hassling. Yes or no, here and now." 

"If I'm a mistress, I expect to be treated like one," she told him, "even if 
I'm an unwilling mistress." 

"You already have a nice home, you're making nice money, and you're in line 
for a position which will triple your income. If I choose to bring you any 
gifts, it'll be because I wish to give them to you, and not because you 
think you've earned them." 

"You're a stingy son of a bitch." 

"I think making you regional representative and supervisor of the entire 
eastern home office is far from being stingy. Yes or no." 

They had walked in a big circle and were back at the hotel. They walked 
inside silently and mounted the stairs. When they came to his door, she 
turned and said, "If you want me, you'll have to fight to take me. I will 
not merely surrender myself. I have a certain amount of dignity, and I 
demand respect." 

"So then you're saying no." 

"I didn't say that. I simply refuse to say yes." 

Rand Stroud was unable to fathom the woman. He watched her go into her room, 
wondering just what was going on in her mind. He wanted her, he wanted her 
very much. Part of her attraction was the fact that she wasn't an easy lay. 
Putting his words together was no simple task. 

Entering his. own room, he went to the bathroom and shaved. Dabbing a little 
cologne on his face, he returned to the bedroom in time to hear a click from 
the other side of the door connecting his room to that of Rosalie Martin. 
Now he understood. 

It was war, of sorts. She considered herself a prize worth fighting for, at 
all times. Well, she was right. The foe was the woman, herself. She wanted 
him to conquer her, otherwise her body simply didn't belong to him. She was 
reticent enough as it was. That she had come this far under the tremendous 
amount of pressure he was applying to her was a tribute to Rand, himself. 

Opening the connecting doors, he entered her room. She was still fully 
dressed, sitting in a chair, smoking another of her cigarettes. 

"What are you doing here?" she asked. "I didn't invite you into my room." 

So, it was a game to be played to the hilt. Fine, Rand Stroud was very good 
at playing games. 

"I decided to come in anyway," he told her. "I have some Pernod in my room, 
and I thought I might be able to offer it to you." 

"I'm not thirsty," she told him, crushing the cigarette out in the ashtray. 

"Well then, suppose we get down to more interesting things." 

"What are you talking about?" she asked, standing when he began shamelessly 
undressing before her. 

Rosalie felt a strange, shuddering wave of sensation flood through her as 
the man's naked chest came into view. She stood rooted to the spot as he 
loosened his belt. 

"Don't be gross," she hissed at him. "Kindly leave my room." 

She was frozen, unable to move, like a little mouse charmed by an anaconda. 
She wanted to shut her eyes and block out the terrible sight, but she was 
afraid he'd jump on her while her eyes were closed. 

It seemed to take only a second as he stood in front of her completely 
undressed. His flesh was tan all over, his swollenly solid penis standing 
out from beneath his flat stomach like the menacing shaft of a solidly 
blunted javelin. He looked at her with a crazy kind of grin twitching at his 
lips as his hand reached down and began half-consciously stroking his heavy, 
circumcised penis back and forth, making his rubbery, bulbous purple head 
swell even more. 

My heavens! she thought. He puts my husband to shame. I've never imagined 
any man constructed so big. 

It was big, all right. The inches were immeasurable to her eye, but it was 
the thickness that really got to her. Hell! It would be like shoving a log 
into her. It was impossible that any man could be built so big. 

"You're a truly stunning woman, Rosalie," he gasped, hoarsely. "I've waited 
a long time for you, and I'm going to enjoy you." 

There was a quiver to his voice, and the man seemed to have a certain amount 
of difficulty breathing. His brain was churning with an overwhelming desire 
for this woman who had been untouchable for so long. Now she was going to be 
his, even if he had to fight for it. The basic difference between possessing 
her now and trying it before they'd had the little talk was that now she 
would not scream the house down, or sic the police on him for rape, 
afterward. He would rape her with her consent, if not with her approval. 
Just thinking about what he intended doing to her made the pulsating 
hardness in his cock stiffen a bit more. 

"Undress!" he said in a low, guttural voice. 

"I will not," she snapped, a look of horror and disgust filling her eyes, 
causing a spark of frustrated lust and burning rage to shoot through him. 
Who in the damn hell did he think she was, making him work for his cunt when 
they both knew all along it was the only way she was going to get what she 
wanted. She was toying with him, playing games. She had refused him all this 
time thinking herself too good for him. Well, hell, she was no better than 
all those other women he had fucked. Damn her and her smug superiority. He 
began moving toward her. 

The twisted look of fear that crossed the helpless woman's face moved across 
like a dark storm, and the twitching in her right eye began to excite the 
lusts of Rand Stroud even more. He was going to fuck her within an inch of 
her life. The expression of calm self-assurance was no longer on his face. 
It had become ugly and twisted with lust. 

Something snapped in Rosalie at that moment. She decided no career was worth 
going through this. She wanted to run out, but he had moved around to block 
her from the door. Thinking quickly she turned around and rushed through the 
connecting door, into his room and ran for his door. He had thrown the Do 
Not Disturb lock on it, and before Rosalie realized how to work it to open 
it, he was on her. 

She spun around, facing him. He grinned again, crazily, his mouth 
licentiously twisted into a hideous grimace. She saw that in spite of his 
claim of inner gentility, he did have a streak of sadism in him, and looked 
at him like a trapped insect caught in a web, watching a spider, the cruel 
glint becoming stronger in his eyes. She wanted to speak and opened her 
mouth, but the words simply would not come out. Maybe she might duck under 
him, but even as she thought of moving, she found herself immobily frozen. 
His penis now swung from side to side like a giant boom, and to Rosalie it 
appeared even longer and harder than before. Against her will, her eyes 
dropped once more to the solidly fleshy instrument, seeing the way it 
menacingly wavered its way toward her. 

Goodness! It was so immense! 

Through her fear, Rosalie wondered how any woman was capable of handling 
such a mighty spear. Yet, from stories about this man, she knew literally 
hundreds of women had handled him, and not one of them had ever been 
hospitalized. To her knowledge, none of them had ever complained either. For 
a moment longer he stood before her, seeing the shuddering fear in her eyes 
and reveling in the knowledge he had provoked some kind of emotion from her 
other than disgust. Once again he started moving toward her. 

"D-Don't you dare come near me," Rosalie gasped, finally managing to stammer 
out a sentence through the immobilizing fear she felt. She knew there would 
be no escape now. She had, by trying to run away, put a slur on his manhood, 
and now like all men he would have to try and prove himself. He was going to 
ravish her if she gave him half a chance, no matter how she pleaded with 
him. 

"Either you take off the clothes, or I take off the clothes, and if you're 
thinking of sneaking around me somehow and getting to your door, I took the 
liberty of locking it, as well." 

Rosalie stood motionless realizing she had no chance whatsoever. There was 
nothing she was capable of doing against the man's strength. She was all 
alone, helpless at the mercy of a man who had very carefully spelled out his 
intentions. 

He reached out with his well-manicured fingers, grabbing her face, cupping 
it in his palms, and with a viciously qufck and sudden jerk pulled her to 
him. 

"I've been dying to kiss those saucy lips for so long," he told her. "Now, 
little by little, every one of the fantasies I've had about you are going to 
come true." He pressed his moist lips tightly against hers, thrusting 
between them with his tongue, letting his oral digit sink deep into the 
warmth of her moist oral cavern. She stood rigidly in front of him, feeling 
the upright rigidity of his pulsating penis as it began digging into the 
softness of her flat stomach. A last ray of intending to tear herself away 
from this terrible man flickered through her mind, but as his fingers 
pressed harder, digging into the sides of her face, the hopes faded. 

Rosalie felt the pressure of his lips actually sucking hers into his mouth 
as she fought him, knowing she didn't like what he was doing. She was only 
dimly aware of his hands leaving her face and snaking around her body to the 
zipper at the back of her dress. With a single, swift, downward jerk, he 
pulled it down to the flaring tops of her lovely, rounded buttocks. Rosalie 
felt a rush of cool air against her naked flesh as he tugged the dress from 
her shoulders and let it fall in a soft heap around her ankles. His hands, 
still around her, undid the snaps of her brassiere next, and the flimsy net 
undergarment fell forward, off her arms, fluttering to the floor. He stepped 
back for a moment to admire her full, white breasts as they came into his 
field of vision for the first time. He muttered a faint gasp of lusty 
appreciation at what he was seeing. He fell to his knees before her as she 
swayed above him, her mind blanked out for a moment-unable to believe that 
after all this time a man was truly overpowering her. Her husband had always 
been a weakling, whining for sex, then never able to properly perform, and 
he had been the only man to ever make love to her. Love? That was a laugh. 
There had never been a single night of love between them. All her 
frustration had been taken out in her work, which was why she had been the 
best saleswoman Residential Insurance ever had, and why she had been a good 
division manager and a great company manager. 

Stroud reached out with his strong hands and firmly pulled her white rayon 
panties down over the soft mounds of her quivering buttocks, letting them 
fall in a small pile of circular cloth around her ankles. With a little 
prodding, he made her step out of them, and that was when Rosalie snapped 
out of her gaze. 

She suddenly realized there was nothing covering her. She stood before him 
totally naked, unable to try and run into the hallway since her modest 
upbringing would make her die of shame to reveal her nakedness to passing 
strangers. As it was, she was reddening because she was completely undressed 
in front of this strange man-strange in that there had never been intimate 
contact with him before. She heard his heart beating as he remained kneeling 
before her. 

Turning, she found herself staggering feeling drunk with terror as his lips 
suddenly burned themselves into her belly, pressing firmly into her whitely 
naked flesh, branding their delineated shapes into her. The abrupt, wet 
contact sent a shuddering chill racing up and down the length of her spine, 
and she found herself swaying, and she automatically reached forward with 
her hands locked in his hair to keep herself from tumbling. 

Stroud knew this was by no means surrender on her part, but he had her 
off-balance and he intended taking full advantage of it. He said, with his 
face pressed close to her body, "I don't know what kind of sexual enjoyment 
you had when you were married, but here's one thing I'll bet your husband 
never did." He pressed his lips into the soft V of her groin, spreading the 
soft, auburn brown pelvic hairs, and like an iguana he flicked his long 
tongue into the moistly flowering slash of her unprepared vagina. 

Rosalie leaped and squealed as the man's tongue made electrifying contact 
with her trembling clitoris, washing over the tiny bud. She began staggering 
backward, and he, on his knees, moved with her, until her knee-backs pressed 
against the mattress of his bed. The edge caught her, and she found herself 
falling, falling, tumbling on her back, sprawling flatly on the covered 
mattress, her legs spreading wide apart as she landed. 

Rand Stroud leaped up from the floor and delved between her wide-open 
thighs, catching her in the helpless position in which she lay as the naked 
female executive fought to clamp her thighs together, wanting to shut him 
out before he did anything more to her already bruised ego. Stroud clamped 
his strong hands against the softly white insides of her trembling thighs, 
pressing them even farther apart. Her eyes were wide open in a combination 
of astonishment and abject terror, and as she wondered how he had maneuvered 
her into this position so easily, she struggled against his powerful grip, 
but it was a one-sided battle all the way. He was now on the bed himself, 
hunched on all fours, his head and shoulders between her wide-apart thighs, 
and as he lifted his face to peer between her firm breasts at her astonished 
face, she thought of him as a ravenous crocodile pouncing on its helpless 
victim, ready to savagely devour it. 

The moistly pink flesh of her completely naked vagina was presented to his 
hungrily leering countenance like some pagan sacrifice. She lay frozen to 
the mattress for a moment, feeling shamed in having been subdued so quickly 
and easily. His tongue was circling his hungry lips in licentious 
preparation for the ravishment about to take place. 

Once again he placed his palms flatly against the tender insides of her 
soft, white thighs, his thumbs resting on the softest part of her inner 
loins, reaching out to touch the tender flanges of her vagina. Then, with a 
slow, torturing outward movement of the thumbs, Stroud tugged the curlicued 
pink labia stickily apart, exposing the wet pinkness of her inner self to 
his lust-filled gaze. He stared at her hot cunt greedily for a moment, and 
then, with an animal-like groan, he instantly dropped his head and sank the 
entire length of his lengthy, slippery tongue into the heatedly pulsating 
and throbbing depths of her shuddering vagina. She had leaked so much oil, 
it was no longer colorless, but had turned to a white froth. 

Rosalie gasped and tried jerking her body away, a soul searing moan escaping 
from deep in her chest. Her whitely rounded nether cheeks ground into the 
mattress, rotating, spinning, hoping to find a hole somewhere to escape the 
maddening assault on this hidden part of her. 

"I ... uuuuunnnnnnhhhhhhhh ... ohhhhhhhhh ... Ooooooooooooohhhhhhh ... 
hhhhaaaaannnnnnnhhhhhh ... n-o-o-o-o-o-o-o!! ! " she whimpered in the face 
of his depraved attack. 

Her head was up off the mattress, and she stared in horrified disbelief at 
this nightmare that was actually happening to her. His head was moving up 
and down, nodding in rhythm with the way his tongue slurped into her, as if 
telling her, yes, it was indeed happening to her. He continued hungrily 
feasting on the wet slickness of her hot cunt, eating vibrantly. 

Rosalie had never been subjected to this kind of sexual contact, before. Her 
husband had performed miserably-had been a missionary style fornicator 
himself, and though he had often urged her to try fellating him-which she 
thought was disgusting and so never did-had never once considered doing 
anything like this to her. 

"This can't be, this can't be," she silently muttered to herself again and 
again, feeling undisguised humiliation and horror, her head falling back on 
the mattress, then flailing helplessly, whipping from side to side. All the 
while his tongue continued spearing in and out of her bubbling vagina as her 
lower inner lips involuntarily dilated in order to make more room for the 
pressing digit. In spite of her terror and hatred for what was happening to 
her defenseless vagina, the first tiny wisps of unwanted pleasure began 
their invasion, rippling deep down inside her laddering belly. His hands 
reached up over the flat whiteness that was her lovely tummy, crawling over 
her skin like a many legged insect, finding, feeling, and digging almost 
harshly into the firmly quivering roundness of her womanly breasts. His 
fingers rolled the hard nipples between them in a continuous and unrelenting 
motion that felt akin to fury. As his mouth and tongue worked in a reptilian 
manner, his slavering subjugation over the widespread tightness of her 
narrow pussy, his eyes remained wide open, watching with an almost arrogant 
pride the lined contortions of her pretty face. He stared between the 
upstanding dunes of her lovely breasts, enjoying the way they quivered. He 
was waiting, knowing eventually the first signs of surrender would appear, 
and when a crack in the dam did show, eventually her entire resistance would 
completely crumble. 

Rosalie remained completely frozen, her body temporarily in abject 
submission to the horribly depraved outrages now being heaped upon her 
trapped and helpless self. For the moment there was nothing she was able to 
do, and large tears of self-denigration and humiliation swelled in her eyes. 
Random and crazy pictures of her former husband flickered through her mind 
as her ears picked up the noisily vile and wet sucking sounds her superior 
continued making into the warmly pulsating depths of her sloppily wet 
vagina. Her husband would never have had the chutzpah to try something like 
this. This was cruel and inhuman treatment. It wasn't lovemaking. It was a 
depraved rite probably performed at some kind of black sabbath by witches 
and demons. She felt more humiliated and ashamed than ever watching him 
crouch on all fours between her wide-open thighs. It was as if the man was 
defiling the inner temple of her womanhood, shaming her beyond her wildest 
imagination, and there simply was nothing she was able to do other than lie 
there and accept this horrible degradation. She had sworn she wouldn't 
scream, and that made her feel even more humiliated, because a series of 
loud screams would bring the hotel personnel on the double. 

She inwardly gasped. Is anything worth this evil? Was this new job really 
worth this humiliation? The worst part of it was, this was only the 
beginning. Stroud had promised her many more nights of such terrible things 
... not to mention the days. She was a slave, committed to him. For the 
first time since her divorce Rosalie felt truly alone. 

Her eyes remained locked on his face, and he, in turn, continued staring at 
her. All the while he continued the torturing thrusts of his tongue into the 
wetly clinging orifice that was her cunt. He watched the helpless tears 
falling over her lovely cheeks with cruel satisfaction. He smirked to 
himself. Rosalie Martin was helpless and at his mercy, and she was crying 
all because of what he was doing to her. This was the first of many lessons 
he intended on teaching her, letting her know she was a cunt, like any other 
cunt, and cunts were meant to be fucked. Hell, she had always held herself 
above the animal act of coition, and Stroud laughed to himself, working a 
little harder with his tongue, thrusting it a bit deeper into her. He was 
going to show her the true meaning of sex. No matter how much she might hate 
him, she was going to learn the meaning of a real orgasm. It was a sure bet 
she'd never had one, because any woman who did have an orgasm wanted more of 
them, and this one was being so stand-offish all the time. So it stood to 
reason she had never really enjoyed sexual contact before. Well in the 
process of pleasing himself, he intended pleasing her. Before the afternoon 
was over, he'd have her crawling to him on her hands and knees, begging for 
more. If he had the strength, he'd damn well give it to her too ... and 
more. 

Chuckling quietly to himself, the man brought his strong hands back and 
down, sliding them beneath the backs of her knees and tugging at the same 
time so they were splayed widely apart on either side of him. He lifted and 
shoved them up and over her nakedly squirming body so her kneecaps were on 
either side of her lovely face, exposing the entire flattened plane of her 
seething vagina to his wide-open, staring eyes. He had something else in 
mind and knew this was something that was bound to set her off. He slid his 
face a little lower and flicked his working tongue into the tightly puckered 
little hole that was her crinkled anus, teasing it swiftly, shockingly, 
touching nerves the poor woman had no idea were there. 

The unexpectedly wet and searing contact with her tremblingly sensitive 
rubbery orifice brought a low, shuddering moan of almost screeching anguish 
from the tortured lips of the lovely brown-haired woman. She clenched her 
eyes tightly shut, pulling her working lips back, exposing her white teeth 
as she felt the squirmingly torturous sensation his tongue caused to begin 
racing out of control through her shuddering body. 

"Ohhhhhhh good ... for the love of ... u u u u it n n n nnhhhhh ... heaven 
... oooonnnnnhhhhhhh ... don't do ... uunuunnhh ... that, " she whimpered, 
desperately and anxiously trying to screw her hotly trembling buttocks away 
from the heatedly flicking tongue licking without mercy at her tiny little 
rectal rictus. Stroud's answer was a licentious chuckle as he probed even 
more deeply with his stabbing tongue, pressing into the tight, fleshy ring 
of her shuddering sphincter. 

"Aaaaaannnnnnhhhhh ... hhhhuuuuuunnnnnnhhhhh..." she groaned repeatedly as a 
series of tiny duck bumps began spreading like a rash over her quivering 
white stomach and full, heaving breasts. 

Rosalie sobbed helplessly before the man's oral attack, feeling the mounting 
of a new and even more terrible fear. In spite of the fact that this was 
obviously revolting and disgusting, as well as shaming, she felt her 
love-starved body starting to desert the rules and regulations her mind had 
set down at the start. Her rounded buttocks jerked helplessly back without 
meaning to because of the pressure of the wetly darting oral organ as it 
continued sending helpless spasms of sweetly delicious sensation coursing 
through her raw nerves, below. 

"Oh no! No! I can't! I mustn't!" 

She realized she was starting to lose control of herself, and the shameful 
impact suddenly hit her. head-on, bringing further cries and moans of 
humiliation and debasement at the thought that not only was she finally 
doing something totally wrong as far as her upbringing was concerned, but 
more frighteningly, she was starting to feel the twinges of enjoyment. She 
gritted her teeth tightly together, and fought with all her will against the 
tiny lapping sparks that threatened to suddenly burst into some kind of 
uncontrollable flame and completely devour her helplessly feminine body. She 
struggled, she truly struggled, but it was a losing battle as Rand Stroud's 
tongue lapped and licked unendingly at the naked wetness of her delicious 
vagina and anus. 

After what felt like an unending eternity of long, desperate struggling 
within the depths of her tortured and confused brain, the dam of emotion 
suddenly burst, and all the built-in inhibitions she had accumulated over 
many bitter and frustrating years were washed away in a boiling sea of 
shuddering lust. 

Her shamelessly aroused and wantonly thrilled body began moving, slowly at 
first, then picking up speed. She continued the writhing, wriggling wanton 
motion against the lusting pressure of the man's tongue as he thrust it back 
and forth between her anus and her vagina, delving first into one, then into 
the other. 

Without realizing it, Rosalie's hands once again curled in the man's 
straight black hair, and a deep, soul-stirring moan rose from deep inside 
her chest. Forgotten were the thoughts of what she did and didn't do with 
her husband. Forgotten for the moment was the deep humiliation she felt. All 
that mattered now were the delicious arrows of delight continuing to deeply 
pierce her prickling feminine flesh like tiny sharpened needles of burning 
flame. 

Stroud now sensed her final submissive surrender to what he was doing, and 
he savagely grinned, thrusting the thickness of his wet oral digit into the 
pinkly quivering sheath of her trembling vagina. She wriggled again, which 
pleased him, as the wetly soft and silken hairs of her pubis tantalizingly 
grazed the tip of his nose as well as the sides of his cheeks as she ground 
her delightfully rounded ass-cheeks in a continuous, slow hypnotic movement 
against his anxious face. 

The woman was his for the moment, and he inwardly gloated, staring with 
arousal and excitement at the contorted expression of pleasure blanketing 
her face as her eyes closed and her mouth clamped tightly shut to keep in 
the sounds aching to leave. 

Yes, yes, he had her. It wouldn't be much longer, now, and he felt a sense 
of excitement burn through him. Soon he would be cramming his hot cock deep 
into her tremblingly white belly, shooting his eager sperm so far into her 
it would come out of her mouth. By heaven, she wasn't too good for him 
anymore. She was just another aching cunt waiting to be properly fucked by 
any decent cock able to penetrate her. Hell! She hadn't been laid since her 
divorce. It was almost like fucking a virgin. Oh was she ever going to get 
it from him. 

Their two bodies continued writhing and wriggling on the bed, the man's 
darker head buried deep inside the widely splayed V of Rosalie Martin's 
thighs. Her hands clung tightly to his hair holding on as if it were a 
matter of life and death. Her delightfully ecstatic face was contorted into 
a half-crazed expression of seething passion that seemed to border on the 
very edge of hysteria. 

Rosalie writhed and wriggled under the continuing pressure of the maddening 
torture caused by her superior's constantly flicking tongue until she 
believed her beating heart would literally burst through her trembling 
chest. Her rolling head was once again lifting itself from the bed, 
straining forward, watching his face, her hands locked tightly behind the 
back of his head, pulling the wonderfully punishing lash of his tongue 
deeper and deeper into her greedily devouring vagina. It appeared as if the 
deliciously oral fucking would go on forever, and Rosalie wanted it to do 
just that. Sparks flew inside her, and she shuddered and trembled, aching to 
peak, but before she was able to do so, Stroud raised his head from between 
her thighs, pushing her hands away. He rose higher and brought his knees 
between her open thighs, allowing her legs down on either side of him. 

Now that he had stopped and was looking at her, Rosalie felt a strong sense 
of humiliation, lying beneath this man she had only known as a business 
superior, totally naked and helpless against the wide-open stare of his 
constant gaze. She felt more shame than ever because of the weakness that 
had momentarily possessed her, and she was determined not to let it happen 
again. 

"Now," he said to her, "I'm going to fuck you, probably in the position you 
were most used to with your husband. Only when I fuck you, it won't feel 
anything like the way your husband did it, Rosalie. When I get through with 
you, not only am I going to be satisfied, but so will you." 

"I thought you weren't going to make promises of how good you are," Rosalie 
sneered at him, finding an opening and sticking a verbal barb into it. 

"I promise you, no matter what happens, this is one fuck you'll never 
forget. I can feel my sperm bubbling in my body, and I know I'll be able to 
hold it back for quite awhile, but I'm telling you, when I do come, you're 
gonna know it baby." 

Rosalie simply lay there, determined not to respond to anything he did. 
Hell, she had been able to keep her body from responding to her husband all 
those years. No, that wasn't true. She had wanted to respond to him, but the 
son of a bitch hadn't done a thing to get her going. He was always in, out, 
in out, wham bam, no-thank-you, ma'am. 

At the moment her lungs were on fire, feeling as if they would burst. Her 
shuddering belly was shaking and heaving as if the man had already buried 
his thick pike inside her. 

What's wrong with me? she asked herself. I'm behaving as if I want this to 
happen. 

Stroud bent low over her lovely, prostrate form, kissing the fullness of her 
breasts, one at a time. His tongue came out and stabbed at her nipple, 
licking it consistently, then it moved to the other nipple, licking it as 
well. He fastened his teeth around the erect bud of her left breast, feeling 
it heave and pump. She groaned in pain, attempting to twist away from the 
suddenness of the sharp torture. His hands continued gently playing over the 
softness of her lovely hips and thighs, at the same time holding her tight. 
His lips traveled wetly over her white, palpitating mounds, causing a 
delightedly blissful twitch to descend, almost feather-like into her vaginal 
opening, below. Without realizing it, she began bouncing her buttocks, using 
a slow, impatient grinding motion, churning against the firm mattress 
beneath her. 

"Why not admit it," he whispered to her. "You're starting to get hot, 
honey." His lips continued slavering over her trembling body, kissing here 
and there, touching all the inner sensitive parts, his eyes still 
brilliantly lit with shining desire for her. "I'm going to fuck you like 
you've obviously never been fucked before. When I first spoke to you, I had 
no idea just what kind of a lover your husband was. From your reactions I 
can see the man never did anything to stimulate you. So it isn't that I'm so 
great, but that you've simply never had a truly decent screwing. That much, 
at least, I can promise you. By the time the full length of my cock is in 
your belly, you'll be twisting, turning, squirming and writhing. Honey, I 
want to see you beg and scream for it." 

Rosalie lay frozen, shivering from the very sound of his licentiously 
obscene words. Their very lasciviousness aroused and inwardly thrilled her 
no matter how she tried keeping her body under control. She had to find a 
way to strengthen herself and continue fighting against this monster of a 
man. To let him know he was reaching her when he finally "opened her up" 
would be the ultimate humiliation. 

"Get those lovely thighs wide apart, gorgeous, I'm coming in, right now," he 
told her, grinning the grin of a vicious conqueror. 

Quivering, half in fear and half in anticipation, the lovely brown-haired 
Rosalie Martin parted her loins wider, lifting her knees on either side of 
him. Stroud levered himself above her, his hands resting on her rounded 
shoulders, his arms stiff and supportive. Once he was in position, he 
released one of her shoulders, reaching between their bodies, taking his 
angrily pulsing penis in his tightly gripping hand and guiding it slowly 
forward, using the thick, rubbery tip to separate her inner labia of her 
full-fleshed vagina, all slick with a mixture of his saliva and her inner 
vaginal secretions. Rosalie, not wanting to see the triumphant smirk on his 
face, turned her head to the side, closing her eyes as he pressed his penis 
more firmly against the ultra-sensitive ragged edges of her licentiously 
dripping cunt. She held her breath for what seemed like an infinity of time, 
lying absolutely still in utter subjugation beneath him, feeling she didn't 
dare breathe. 

"Oooooooh!" she hissed, the breath seeping out of her as she felt the first 
solid pressure against the tight elastic opening of her shuddering vagina. 

He pushed-hard. 

"Hhhhaaaa-uuuuunnnnnnnhhhhhh!" she gasped out loud as the massive, 
blood-bloated, onion-shaped tip slowly slid through her lower lips, working 
its way into her narrow hole, cruelly stretching the tight, rubbery opening 
until Rosalie was certain her vaginal lips would be rended wide apart, and 
her thighs would be torn cruelly from the rest of her body. The relentless 
outer pressure continued cruelly. 

"Ohhhhhhh ... you son of a bitch ... no more ... no more ... you're ... 
uhhhhhhhhhh . . hurting me!" She was rasping at him with a hoarse voice as 
the pressure seemed to constrict her very throat. Her eyes had snapped wide 
open in fear as she saw his sadistic grin of triumph. He seemed to be 
enjoying the sight of her as she underwent suffering. He continued the 
cruel, relentless penetration of her heated cunt. 

At last! At long last he was fucking Rosalie Martin. He had waited for what 
seemed like a lifetime for this moment. Were he to die now, it would be 
worth it. He had achieved his goal, attaining the unattainable. He was in! 

The wide grin on his face was no longer one of triumph or achievement. He 
was now wearing an expression of raw, contorted licentiousness. Stroud was 
no longer able to move slowly, watching how helpless and seemingly innocent 
Rosalie looked beneath him, her arms and legs widely spread. He looked a 
little lower, thrilled to the sight of his cock-head hidden inside the 
tightness of her squeezing pussy ... and it was tight. 

Now was the time to fulfill his ambition completely. Now was the time to 
fuck her. 

Falling forward, he pressed his weight against the rounded domes of her full 
breasts, feeling them spread like flesh puddles against her body. He slammed 
his hips forward at the same time that he fell on her, and his thick, 
lengthy cock slid into her wetly cringing vagina like a raging express 
train, pushing the shuddering wet flesh of her pink vaginal walls in 
rippling waves before it. In, in, in, there was no stopping until, with a 
loud, lustful groan, his sperm-Filled testicles smacked heavily into the 
upturned cheeks of her tightly clenched buttocks. 

"Uuuunnnnnnhhhhhhh ... ohhhhhhhhh..." she gasped, feeling more than a twinge 
of agony for the moment as she lay there, gasping under him. 

She had never been so Filled by her husband in her entire life the swollen 
massivity of his hotly throbbing cock felt as if it had ripped the flesh 
from her inner walls, tearing the membranes into tiny shreds as her husband 
had done to her hymen on the night he had deflowered her. The man was 
stabbing into her rapidly and without mercy, and she was certain he was 
giving no thought to the possible injury he was causing her. The thick 
length was already pumping slowly back and forth, filling her feminine 
interstice again and again, throbbing against every inner part of her. There 
was not one little ridge of flesh within her that was spared the pressure of 
his massive flesh hose as it swelled the walls of her vagina. His swollen 
cock was enclosed in a wonderful crypt of moistly warm vaginal flesh like a 
sword cutting cruelly into the belly of its victim. 

He lay still for a moment, his face hovering directly over hers. Rosalie 
also remained unmoving, trying to wait out the pain she knew had to 
disappear. Then she felt a deep throb far inside her trembling belly as the 
thickness of Stroud's cock jerked a half inch deeper into her on the 
in-thrust as he continued flexing it inside her. 

"Oohhhhhuuuuuuuhhhhhh!" she gasped, startled, her voice deeper this time, 
the cords in her neck standing out from the pressure of her resistance. 

"You can feel it, can't you," he gasped, looking down at her lovely face. 

"There was no answer from her. She clamped her teeth tightly together, 
hating the moment she had ever agreed to this. 

"I asked if you can feel it," he snapped, flexing his cock inside her, 
bloating the head, making her membranes stretch. 

"Ohhhhhhh ... you son of a bitch ... uuuunnnnnhhhh ... don't do that. You 
damn well know I can feel it." 

"I'm glad. You know, I thought I had none of the sadist in me, but I was 
wrong. Tell me how much you like it." 

"I hate it, you bastard." 

"Tell me how much you like it," he insisted, flexing the organ again. 

"Ohhhhhhhh ... all right ... all right-I like it-I like it . . " The pain 
was agonizing for her, and if she'd had a knife she would gladly have stuck 
it in his back. 

"Beg for more of it," he snapped at her, a contemptuously cold smile on his 
face. 

"Wh-what?" was all the anguished woman was able to think to say at that 
moment. 

"You heard me. I want you to beg me for it," he repeated, his voice heavy 
with arrogance. 

"What kind of a monster are you? I certainly will not beg you." 

"Either you beg me to fuck you, or I promise you, instead of giving you the 
thrill of a lifetime, I'll give you the pain of a lifetime." To emphasize 
his words he flexed his anxiously throbbing cock again inside her, plunging 
it to the deepest part of her squeezing vagina. 

"Stop! Stop!" she gasped. "Don't do that, Rand. Sadism wasn't ... uhhhhhh 
... part of our agreement," the tortured brown-haired female manager said to 
him as she fought with all her inner strength to escape this one final 
humiliation. If she did this thing, it would be the ultimate surrender of 
her pride. He would do this to her every time they fucked. She shivered, 
knowing there would indeed be more times. She had committed herself, and to 
her the idea was horrible. She had to find some way to get out of this. Her 
pride was the only thing she had left. It was the one thing this horrible 
man hadn't taken from her. Her self-respect was certainly gone, letting him 
know indirectly that she would permit him to rape her in order to advance in 
the company. Hell! She had been smart enough to know he had told the truth 
about recommendations. He would definitely have ruined any chance she would 
have had of advancing. Still, she didn't dare beg. 

He throbbed his pulsating shaft even more deeply inside her, digging his 
fingers into the softness of her shoulders at the same time. Sensing she was 
about to surrender to him, Stroud felt her submissiveness was almost as 
thrilling as the feeling he was getting with her vaginal membranes tightly 
wrapped around his cock. 

"Do it, Rosalie," he whispered, encouragingly. "A man-likes to feel he's 
mastered the woman he's fucking. I want to know I've completely mastered 
you. So beg a little, huh." 

"All right, all right," she sobbed, still feeling pain in her shuddering 
body, her resistance broken by the possibility of even more agony. "Do it to 
me! Go on and do it to me!" 

"Not like that. You're a big girl, now. You know the proper vocabulary. So 
out with it, honey. Tell me just what it is you want me to do." 

"Fuck me you rotten son of a bitch!" she hissed at him, her teeth tightly 
gritted together, hot tears pouring heavily from her eyes down her cheeks as 
she all but spat out the degradingly lewd and licentious words. Her 
humiliation and shame were total and complete, now. This man would be able 
to boast to everyone at Residential that he had made Rosalie Martin beg for 
his cock, and she would be unable to deny it. Oh the rotten son of a 
stinking bitch. 

Rosalie felt she would never be the same again. She had allowed herself to 
be completely dominated by a man, and that was the worst thing of all. She 
wished she had the courage to throw him off and simply quit the company, but 
she was too strongly committed now. After this, he'd damn well better make 
her regional supervisor or she'd cut his heart out with a rusty knife and 
shove it down his throat. Hell! She was a full-fledged whore, now. She had 
fucked to get something of value. 

The bitter words bored into her mind like some kind of evil omen of horrible 
doom. She no longer was able to respect herself. Everything she had done up 
to now had been on merit. This she was doing by using her vagina. This son 
of a bitch had taken everything she had worked for all these years, and he 
had made nothing out of it by forcing her to use her cunt to forge ahead. 
What was the use of even working, anymore. All she had to do was lie flat on 
her back and be promoted that way, feeling the huge, fleshy instrument fill 
her vagina a required amount of times. 

No! No, it wasn't really true. No amount of fucking would have gotten her to 
where she was had she not been a capable administrator. Stroud was taking 
advantage of the fact that she was a woman, but she was damn capable. He 
might have fucked a lot of company women, but not one of them had been 
promoted because she knew how to twitch her ass in bed. 

Rand Stroud felt the loss of Rosalie's last remaining ounce of resistance. 
It was as if he was able to see it flying from her trembling body, and he 
leaned down and gently pressed his hungering lips to hers, kissing and 
licking her mouth as he began pounding with regularity between her lovely 
thighs. The tightly narrow passage of her squeezing and clutching vagina 
began widening, first a little, then a little more as he stroked into it 
with short, rapid strokes. Rosalie groaned, once again feeling helplessly 
defeated by him. 

Stroud knew if he was able to contain himself long enough he'd be able to 
turn this resisting female executive into a luscious mass of totally 
helpless and wanton desire. He sensed it by her earlier reactions to his 
constant touching. Even though she was continually resisting him and, in her 
own way, fighting him, just as she promised she would, he knew there was a 
lambent flame flickering deep down inside her; a wantonness waiting to come 
out that had never been brought to the fore by any man before him. Although 
he'd never thought of himself as an exceptional lover, Rand Stroud knew he 
was good enough to make almost any female come. He would make certain this 
particular woman was turned on, today, and thereby assure himself of less 
resistance in the future. Oh, she would resist. She would always resist. 
That was her way, just as it was his way to fight through that resistance 
and fuck her again and again. He had a lot to teach her, and teach her he 
would. There would come a time he'd have her so heatedly aroused, she'd come 
begging him to fuck her if he didn't continually chase her. She wasn't the 
type to go after other men. He knew Rosalie Martin. She had a strict code by 
which she lived. She never back-stabbed, and by the same token would never 
permit herself to be fucked by more than one particular rapist at any one 
time. As long as his cock was around, she would never seek any other. True, 
she might be attacked, but that was something he was willing to accept. 
Hell! He was willing to accept her fucking for other men, too, but she 
simply wouldn't. That wasn't her way, or so he believed. 

Rosalie's body began reacting involuntarily to what he was doing. There was 
no longer any reasons for her to fight, since all her resistance had been 
drained. The pain inside her was slowly turning to a throbbing ache, and it 
mingled with a new sensation; a sensation her husband had never been able to 
build inside her. As her anguish continued fading, her desire began 
mounting, and she discovered she was completely surrendering to the 
movements of this lewd man who was consistently fucking her. His massive 
organ skewered into her again and again. 

Her naked, womanly body was feeling more and more ardent desire building, 
and once again, against her will she discovered she was moving in time to 
the way he was thrusting into her vagina. The heavy penis widened her a bit 
more, and now there was neither pain nor discomfort, but a mingling series 
of throbbing sensations she had never known were hidden within her. She 
groaned, and when he kissed her again, she sighed into his mouth, her tongue 
suddenly responding and licking his, also lapping his palate, and then 
finally shoving itself with deep abandon into his throat. Her mouth was 
issuing low hums of servile acceptance as it poured in torrents from deep 
inside her shuddering chest, her face twisted and contorted with lusting 
passion, mouth working, neck and thighs straining, nostrils dilated as a 
light film of perspiration broke out all t over her shuddering body. Her 
hair was now disheveled and fell loosely around her head. 

Stroud slipped his hands down along her sides, moving them beneath the 
roundly warm globes of her tantalizing and bouncing buttocks, grasping them 
harshly, squeezing them as his fingers dug into her lovely flesh, pulling 
and pressing and massaging. He remembered with a lust-inciting clarity the 
way her body had filled out the flimsy summer dress he had stripped from 
her, when he had been looking at her and imagining what it would be like to 
hold her like this. Once more the realization came to him that Rosalie 
Martin was now his-his to do with as he pleased. Contrary to what Rosalie 
believed, Rand Stroud had no intention of telling anyone what he was doing 
with her. Hell! He wanted the rest of the world to go on thinking she was 
untouchable, thereby making her all the more his. 

Shamelessly aroused now, Rosalie's body jerked up and back, up and back, her 
buttocks tightening and loosening, thrilling to the pressure of the fingers 
clutching them. He tugged her all the harder against his body, feeling her 
tugging her thighs open a little wider, the wetly heated basin of her 
steaming vagina now flowering open the better to receive him. His wetly 
pistoning penis pounded into her without mercy, and mercy was the one thing 
Rosalie no longer wanted. What she did want, even though her mind would not 
admit it, was to be fucked. 

There wasn't even the slightest hint of pain now, and her thighs on either 
side of his impaling lance of solid muscle were jerking and quivering with 
wanton abandon. Her bright eyes were looking straight up-seeing nothing, and 
her lips were as hungry as his, kissing his mouth with a passionate fervor, 
wanting more and more of his wonderful kisses. Small cat-like sounds of 
satiny pleasure were sliding out of her throat, and her entire body was 
shuddering and straining with intensity as she wantonly wriggled beneath him 
because of the overpowering sensations she was thrillingly enjoying. The 
only thoughts running through her mind at that moment concerned the sweetly 
delicious thrill of being fucked. This, then, was what it was really like. 
This was what she had missed all the years of her marriage, and after. She 
thrilled to the sensation of lying beneath this man who was fucking her 
against her will, having literally raped her, and now the only thought in 
her mind was to try and return the pleasure he was imparting to her. 

Stroud worked above her, pumping back and forth, changing from high gear 
into overdrive, though his strokes were smoother and longer. His hard cock 
now pulled almost all the way out until only the penile tip was lodged 
inside her seething dell of femininity, and then he slammed forward again 
into her anxiously uptilted ass-cheeks, hitting her with such vehemence, he 
actually drove her a fraction of an inch back on the bed. The harsh slap of 
his hairy and wrinkled scrotum whacked into her unprotected ass-cheeks, as 
well as against the tiny pucker of her anus now that her rectal cheeks had 
relaxed. There was one more thing to do to enhance her thrills, and Rand 
Stroud did it. He reached down with his hand, and pressed his forefinger 
against the dimple of her rectal opening. It was warm and rubbery, and it 
instantly worked against the pressure of his finger as her buttocks 
continued rubbing against his upper thighs. 

Pressing carefully, his index finger moved slowly forward, and then, with a 
sudden thrust, he pushed it inside her, feeling the ring of her sphincter 
yield to the driving attack. 

"Okhhhhhhhh!" she gasped, feeling a little discomfort, the sound 
automatically tumbling from her lips. This time there was no real pain 
though her mind wondered why he was plumbing her anal depths. 

Stroud thrust harder, taking pleasure in hearing her make sounds of total 
subjugation, knowing all the more that she was his to do with as he pleased. 

"Ohhhhhhh!" she gasped again, but this time there was no respite as he 
continued pushing his finger deeper, deeper, and deeper, stretching the 
rubbery softness wider and wider as he ground further and further into the 
tightness of her elastic-rectal tunnel. Moments later, he slid his middle 
finger in as well, feeling her anal shaft widen as all inner resistance 
finally gave way. Now two fingers were in the depths of her rectum. 

The deep, hungering sounds in her chest had lessened a bit, as she was 
afraid of the pressure of his fingers inside her back passage. The moments 
passed, and though he was unable to really thrust with his fingers because 
he was concentrating on pounding his penis into her, he kept them both 
buried to their fullest in her rectum, and little by little Rosalie became 
aware of an intensifying pleasure inside her. Her rear tunnel was becoming 
accustomed to the unnatural attack. 

Stroud kissed her all the harder, mentally smiling as she kissed him back 
again while rotating her ass-cheeks against his fingers, and as he pumped 
into her, her own body moved so that his fingers were now fucking her ass 
just as his cock was fucking her tight cunt-made tighter by the pressure of 
his fingers working in her rectum. 

Rosalie moaned, helplessly skewered between his driving fingers and pounding 
penis. She mewled in wantonly hopeless abandon, wondering why she was 
enjoying it all, and then simply accepting it without asking questions. She 
began writhing and twisting as she moaned under this dual ravishment, loving 
every bit of it, though refusing to admit it to herself. 

Stroud slid his other hand very slowly up the rounded cheek of her behind to 
where his phallus was smoothly sliding in and out of her seething grotto, 
feeling the tenderly soft, hair-lined folds clinging tightly to his rigid 
and plundering solidity. 

He began fondling, teasing and tantalizing her pink, wetly contracting 
vaginal lips, touching the parts of her inner labia his cock was unable to 
massage, bringing even stronger moans of abandoned and wanton lust from her 
gasping mouth, and at the same time he felt her greedy vagina devouring his 
cock more hungrily. 

Stroud quickened his thrusts, slamming his cock into her with hotly 
pulsating, deep lunges as Rosalie's ripe body continued to thrash beneath 
him. For the first time in her life she was ready for an orgasm. He sensed 
it as her thighs on either side of him jerked even wider apart and her 
buttocks bounced more swiftly. 

Yanking his fingers from her rectum with a loud, shuddering "pop" he once 
again lifted her knees and pushed them back, lifting her ass way up, 
bringing her hot cunt into even closer contact with his own pistoning loins. 
He piledrove into her with merciless power, slamming hard, pounding his 
organ deeper and deeper into her wetly sucking tunnel. 

"Unh-unh-unh..." she chanted cadently beneath him, her lovely face a 
screwed-up and totally unrecognizable mask of abandoned and lusty passion. 

Stroud grunted and gasped as he continued increasing the power of his 
thrusts into her, grinding solidly and deeply into her recesses so that his 
penis drilled far up into hidden, never-before-touched recesses of her 
vaginal sheath. 

Her fully swollen breasts heaved and shuddered, rubbing against his 
almost-hairless chest, the tiny, hardened nipples digging into him like 
chips of burnished flint. 

Rosalie felt a wildness she had never known before. This was what sex was 
all about. This was what the love books raved about. The sensations she was 
feeling were verbally indescribable, and she shuddered and quivered with 
delight as the thrilling orgasm began sweeping up and over her, flooding her 
body. She was trembling hot iron beneath him. 

"Wh-what's happening to me?" she gasped. 

"Just, ... ooooohhhhhhhh ... what I ... ahhhhhhhh ... told you..." he 
gasped. "You're coming, sweetheart, you're coming." 

"OHHHHHHHHHHH. . YESSSSSSSSSSSS ... EEEEEEEYYYYYYYAAAA-AAA GGGGGGHHHHHH!! ! 
" 

Though her bellows echoed loudly inside her, she had jammed a pillow from 
beneath her head over her face at the last second, and her anguished 
convulsions were not heard beyond the room. Rosalie's tight pussy dilated 
and spread open as floods of water gushed from within her, splashing all 
over both their fulcrums, drenching both their thighs. All the while the 
man's cock continued pistoning in and out of her trembling body, and she 
thrilled as she had never thrilled before, in ecstatic throes the like of 
which she had never believed to exist until this moment. He thrust faster, 
digging deeper and deeper into her, wanting her to remember this lay, her 
first one with a climax, all the rest of her life. If she enjoyed this one, 
the others would be a lot easier-and there definitely would be others. Even 
as he pumped, Rand Stroud was planning the next few days with Rosalie. 

The brown-haired female executive convulsed and thrust her hot cunt against 
his body repeatedly, the lips of her vagina working to suck his cock in the 
hope of milking his sperm. She was breathing with short, desperate gasps, 
and he thrust into her again, suddenly feeling his own wildly spewing semen 
burst forth from the tip of his cock. 

Stroud's lips clamped tightly against those of Rosalie Martin, and his shout 
into her mouth was heard in the depths of her belly as he screamed, 
"OHHHHHHHWOWWWWWW-WWWWAAAARRRRR-RRGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!" 

His shooting sperm mingled with her juices deep in her belly in a wet pool 
of passion and lust that Rosalie had no idea existed. She was in heaven, 
feeling thrills the like of which were totally beyond her ken. 

He released her legs and they fell down again on either side of him, two 
limp towers splayed obscenely on either side of his pistoning pump. Her 
heart pounded in her chest as if ready to break through her rib cage. Her 
nakedly quivering body was beaten and satiated as never before, and Rosalie 
felt waves of shame and humiliation roll over her as she remembered where 
she was and who the man was, now lying heavily on top of her, his thick, 
deflating penis still sunk in the depths of her vaginal tunnel. 

"You liked it," he gasped into her ear, his mouth near her head. "You liked 
it, no matter how much you deny it." 

Rosalie stiffened and said, "It was all right, but I'd appreciate your 
leaving me alone, now. I'd like to go to my room." 

Stroud had expected this reaction from her. She wasn't the kind of woman who 
broke down with a single fucking. No, it would take time, lots of time, and 
he would have to expend lots of energy-but what a delicious way to expend 
the energy. 

He pulled out of her and Rosalie thrust him off her, got to her feet and 
hurried to her room where she took another long bath. 

 CHAPTER TWO 

When Rosalie came down to the dining room for dinner that evening, she was 
led to a table already occupied by Rand Stroud. As a gentleman, he stood 
until she was seated. 

Inwardly she seethed at the sight of the man. He'd had no right to humiliate 
her and make her feel so cheap. Her body had an entirely different reaction; 
one she refused to accept. It glowed and felt good, really good for the 
first time in a really long time. In fact, it felt good in an entirely 
different way than it had ever felt good, previously. 

When she had finished her second bath, Rosalie had slept a good three hours. 
Her orgasm had sapped a lot of vitality from her. She hadn't been used to 
the effect. 

"You look ravishing," Stroud complimented, staring at her low-cut green 
cocktail dress. 

"I feel ravished," she replied. "One good thing about public meeting places 
is the fact that you can't attack me, again." 

"You really are sarcastic," he laughed. 

The food in the Bahamas was similar to the fare served in England. It was 
bland, almost tasteless, and was wonderful for anyone on a diet. The 
tastiest thing on the menu was a cut of roast beef, and even that was a 
bland piece of meat. 

"May I take you out this evening?" Stroud asked. 

"Is tonight going to be a repeat of today?" she asked. 

"My name is Strand, not Samson," he replied. "Rosalie, if you want to fight 
me in the bedroom that's your privilege. I already agreed to your ground 
rules. However, when we're in public, I think a little civility is in order. 
After all, I can understand your not wanting the rest of the world to know 
about our private lives, but by the same token there's no reason to make 
everyone think you hate me." 

"Ah, but I do hate you," she replied. "You know that." 

"That's only a temporary thing," he assured her. "Eventually you'll learn to 
like me." 

"Next you'll say I'll learn to fall in love with you." 

"I'm not asking for miracles," he answered. "However, when a woman responds 
as you did this afternoon, it can't be all hate no matter what you think you 
feel. Now, before you come up with another sardonic witticism, would you 
care to spend the evening with me?" 

"I've nothing better to do," she shrugged. 

"Good. You know, one day you're going to give me a simple yes when I ask a 
question, and it might be enough to make me keel over." 

"In that case, yes, yes, yes, please do keel over." 

"You're angry with both, me and yourself," he told her. "In spite of what 
you think right now, you don't really hate me. And I really like you." 

"Whatever would I do without you, Dr. Freud." 

"I like the comparison," he told her. "After all, Freud said everything in 
the world is related to some sexual happening or other." 

"I wonder how you figured that out," she snapped. 

They sat in the lobby after leaving the dining room, letting their food 
digest. Stroud brought her an after-dinner drink, a mild aperitif, and they 
sat, watching the people walk by, laughing and talking. She smoked two 
cigarettes in that time, deciding she'd probably die of lung cancer because 
smoking was one habit she was unable to break. 

It was almost nine-o'clock when they left the hotel in a taxi going to a 
nearby nightclub where some of the top talent in the United States came. 

Rosalie had two more drinks and four more cigarettes, while Stroud neither 
smoked nor drank. 

At about eleven he did order a small snack for the both of them, and then 
they left. 

Next he took her to the huge gambling casino that was doing a heavy 
business. The hookers were easy to spot, wandering through the room, trying 
to pick up a room for the night, and some money as well. 

The roulette tables were automated, the wheel constantly spinning 
electrically, and Rosalie decided she wanted to try a little roulette. She 
insisted on using her own money. 

Stroud took her to one of the fifty different blackjack tables, and there he 
helped her recoup half her losses. Finally he led her to the craps table, 
and picked up a hundred dollars for himself, and Rosalie's other twenty-five 
dollars. 

It was two in the morning when he led her back to the hotel. He saw her to 
her room before going to his own, and Rosalie decided that had he been 
single, he might have been attractive. 

When Rosalie went to sleep that night, she slept more peacefully than she 
had in many a long night. She awoke the following morning alert and 
wide-awake, no morning hangover, and no loginess. 

When she went down to breakfast, she found herself alone. It was a buffet 
breakfast, and she went over to the long table and selected sausages and hot 
cakes with syrup. She had no idea whether Rand Stroud was still asleep, or 
if he had come down and had eaten ahead of her. 

After breakfast, she returned to her room, put on a blue sun-and-swim suit, 
took a bathing cap with her, and went to the pool. She rented another 
cushion for one of the wooden chaises, and this time she covered her arms 
and body with sun tan oil. Then she lay down, face-up, with a pair of 
sunglasses on, and for the next half hour allowed her body to soak up some 
of the solar rays. 

Afterward, she swam in the pool for an hour, on and off, then pulled herself 
out and took off her swim cap. Going to her room, she showered, then dressed 
in her white sun dress. By then it was lunch time, and she finally met 
Stroud at the table. 

"Hi," he greeted her. "How are you feeling this morning?" 

"It's afternoon," she told him. "Just barely after, but still afternoon. 
Were you sleeping all this time?" 

"No, I was helping to set up the different seminar rooms for the various 
little conferences after the big one. You know, we have to justify our being 
here to Uncle Sam so Residential can take all this off their taxes. With any 
kind of luck, you'll be doing this, next year." 

"Then you are going to recommend me for regional supervisor?" 

"After yesterday, did you doubt it for a moment?" 

"I didn't know what to think," she shrugged. They ordered and had a light 
lunch. Afterward, he said, "I would love to have another great afternoon 
with you, but we have to stay in the lobby and greet all the salesmen and 
managers. However, there's always this evening, after the opening meeting." 

"Just remember, I'm not giving anything away, willingly." 

"You're worth fighting for, Rosalie. You may not know it, but you react 
naturally in bed. You're a woman who will never actually have to be taught. 
Your body seems to know how to properly respond, and that's good." 

"I'm pleased to hear I'm a better lay than I believed. " 

"Better? Hon, to be frank, you're probably the best I've ever had, and 
believe me, I've had literally hundreds." 

"Do all men like to boast of their conquests?" 

"I don't know about all men," he said to her. "I do know I normally don't 
talk about them. As a matter-of-fact, the only conquest I've really talked 
about with you, has been-you. You really had to be conquered. I'm glad, in a 
way." 

"Next time, go shove it into a meat slicer." 

"Only if you're the meat slicer." 

After lunch, they went to the lobby and began greeting the incoming members 
of the eastern home office. A card had been prepared for each one, giving 
them their room and dining table numbers. It was a long, dull, dreary 
afternoon, and 

Rosalie was glad when it was over. By then, Rand Stroud had left. 

"You know," a voice said to her as she was getting ready to leave, "you and 
I ought to have a talk." 

Looking up from where she was sitting, Rosalie saw the man talking to her 
was Stanley Bright, one of the other district representatives with whom she 
was vying for the job of regional supervisor. Bright was a man of 
medium-height, and his light brown hair had a tinge of gold to it. The sun 
would probably bleach it. He had a roundish face, and when he smiled his 
teeth had a kind of crooked look to them. He was neither fat nor thin, and 
he was always immaculately dressed in a suit that was out of style. Today he 
was wearing a gray herringbone, and his tie was still closely knotted around 
his throat. 

"What do we have to talk about?" Rosalie asked. 

"Many things," Bright told her. "Basically, you and I are competing for the 
same position now. You know, I've always liked you, Rosalie. We might 
confound everyone by getting married, and then sharing the position." 

"Stan, you and I hardly know one another. I don't think marriage is a good 
thing at a time like this." 

"So we don't know one another. So what? We can always learn." 

"Suppose neither of us gets the job." 

"You can always divorce me, if you wish." 

"I'd prefer an annulment." 

"Do you mean you'd deny me my husbandly right?" 

"Stan, you want a marriage of convenience. If I went through with such 
nonsense, which I won't, it would not be convenient for me to go to bed with 
you." 

"Would it be convenient if we didn't get married?" Bright asked, a smirk on 
his face. 

"Whether in business or for pleasure, you're looking to fuck me any way you 
can," she said, standing up. "Sorry, Stan. Thanks, but no thanks." 

"You don't know what you're missing." 

"If I don't know, I can't miss it, can I. So long." 

She left Stan Bright and went to her room to lie down. 

Promptly, at seven o'clock, she was in the dining room now. Heavily peopled 
with the cream of the Residential Insurance Company's sales force, as well 
as all the managers, division managers, and district representatives like 
herself. She was wearing a black and white cocktail dress with a single 
strand of pearls. 

There was a dais set up at the far end of the room, and on it, the chairman 
of the board, the president, the four regional home office supervisors, and 
two district representatives were seated there. The one vacant seat was for 
her." It was right next to the chairman, Harry Norton. Norton was 
old-probably close to seventy. He ought to have been retired years ago, 
Rosalie thought. 

"I've been hearing many glowing reports about you," he said, smiling at her, 
the wrinkled leather face creasing and the slightly crooked nose bobbing a 
little. "Rand, Mr. Stroud, has already recommended you be his successor. I 
admit I was a bit dubious, at first, but when he showed me your record, I 
was highly impressed. Tell me, would you do me the favor of allowing me to 
be your escort for the rest of the evening?" 

"Why I'd be delighted," Rosalie replied. 

"Mrs. Norton passed on quite a few years ago, and it's been awhile since 
I've had a young lady with me." 

"It's nice being referred to as young again," she smiled. 

The meal was no less bland than it had been the previous evening, and then 
Norton stood up and gave a small welcoming speech. Afterward, the president 
got up and announced the different seminars that would take place the 
following day. Everyone had to choose at least three of them and attend each 
for at least an hour. Rosalie knew what a waste those seminars were, but as 
Rand Stroud had pointed out, the company had to justify the tax deduction 
somehow. 

After dinner was over, Norton escorted Rosalie to the gambling casino where 
he proceeded to lose two-thousand dollars at roulette. He gave her a 
fifty-dollar bill and like an adult talking to a child, said, "Why don't you 
get some quarters and play the slot machines." 

"Mr. Norton," she said, "I can't take your money." 

"Nonsense," he told her. "It all comes from Residential. It's part of my 
expense account. You belong to the company, so by all means spend some of 
it. You're young, my dear. Enjoy life." 

Rosalie shrugged, went to the slots and proceeded to lose the entire fifty 
dollars. When she returned, Norton had lost another three-thousand at the 
dice table. 

"Come," he said, "I'm an old man. I have to be in bed, early. Shall we go." 

 CHAPTER THREE 

From the way he talked to her, it was obvious Harry Norton regarded Rosalie 
to be a little girl. Well, she was thirty years younger than he, but it was 
still no reason for him to talk to her as if she were in grade school. 

At Norton's request, she accompanied him to his room, and even went inside, 
albeit unwillingly. Once the door was shut and locked, and the lights were 
on, he draped an arm over her shoulder, saying, "I'm not as spry as I used 
to be, my dear, but I think I can still manage a little now and then." 

What the hell was the man talking about? 

That was when she felt it. He had an erection, and he was pressing it 
against one of her hips. She tugged her hip away, noting how he attempted to 
follow the movement of her body by pushing his loins against her. 

Lowering her eyes, Rosalie saw the bulge in the front of his pants, and she 
was surprised a man of his age was capable of becoming aroused. It pushed 
against his zipper, and she was almost fascinated, watching the way it 
leaped up and down inside his trousers. 

The old man had suddenly become very ardent, and he pulled her to him, 
pressing her rounded contours to his hungry body, holding her tight. She 
wanted to pull away, but knew she dared not offend him at least until the 
convention was over and he was no longer company chairman. Right now, he and 
the president had complete control over who was going to be promoted to 
what. Heat was rising from between his unsteady legs, and she realized that 
in spite of his age, he was a hot and horny man, no different from the 
younger men who wanted her. 

"Stay close to me," he whispered, and she detected the odor of whiskey on 
his breath. He had snaked a drink, somehow. "I want to hold you here, in my 
arms, and remember." 

Rosalie wanted to laugh and had to fight to hold it in. To do so would be 
the end of her career at Residential, and she just wasn't in the mood to 
start all over again with another insurance company. That thought alone 
killed the humor of what was happening. 

"Now, my dear," he whispered, still talking to her as if she were a little 
girl. "Just do as I say, and you'll have nothing to worry about. Do you 
understand?" 

"Yes, Mr. Norton." 

"We're friends, aren't we? In private please call me Harry." 

I'll call you an old lecher, she thought to herself. 

He began moving his hips circularly, pressing his front against her body. He 
was gripping her more tightly than ever. His hands released her arms and 
Rosalie knew better than to pull away this time. He was stroking her bare 
flesh above the neckline of her dress. She shivered, hating this, not 
wanting to let him touch her, knowing all the while that she had no choice. 
If she was to survive and go on to the top, she had to undergo this 
indignity. 

His hand was already behind her, undoing her dress, pulling the zipper down. 
She stood there motionless. At least she wouldn't have to help him. Then he 
found the snaps holding her brassiere, and he untied them, pulling it away, 
letting her breasts fall free. Now she stood there with her dress down 
around her hips, her breasts standing up and staring back at the old man 
whose bright eyes gleamed with lust. He was licking his chops, probably the 
way the wolf did when he saw Red Riding Hood. The old reprobate looked very 
much like a hungry wolf. 

Norton pulled her against him, and Rosalie stood very, very still, not 
making a sound. She remained there in the circle of his arms letting him do 
all the things he wanted, certain his erection, solid as it was now, would 
never hold up should he attempt to push it into her. 

His wrinkled, arthritic-gnarled hands now moved to the front of her body, 
massaging her breasts. For the first time she discovered what it felt like 
to be pawed by hands that felt like claws and fingers. She felt like a 
naughty girl who was being punished by her grandpa for having done something 
she ought not to have done. Even so, the man was a stranger, and she was 
disgusted with the idea of having to allow him to paw her. He rubbed her 
nipples, and little tingles of lust shot through her like sparks. She 
realized her nipples were hardening to the man's touch. Heat was spreading 
involuntarily through her body. Immediately she realized her body was 
remembering what Rand Stroud had done to her, and it was expecting more of 
the same treatment. Not that she had approved of what Stroud had done, but 
it was certainly preferable to this. 

"You certainly have a fine pair of breasts," the old man complimented. "And 
your lovely skin is so smooth. I see you've been taking advantage of your 
time here to get a tan. I can see how white your breasts are compared to the 
rest of your torso. Tell me, are you still married?" 

"No," she said in a small voice. 

"Ah, but you must have had some physical activity since you began leading a 
single life." 

"Not really," she replied, having no intention of revealing her relationship 
with Rand Stroud. "I've immersed myself in my work for the company." 

"Ah, I see. You've done excellent work, too, but a woman like yourself is 
still young and vital, and should give her body a certain amount of 
pleasure. Were I five years younger, I, myself would still be equal to the 
task." 

Was he telling her he had no intention of trying to fuck her, after all? She 
hoped so. It would be a blessing. If that was the case, she might be able to 
put up with his gropings, though his very touch made her shiver with 
disgust. 

"Yes, of course," was all she was able to reply. 

"Rosalie, sweet Rosalie," he whispered. "Compared to me you're so young, and 
you're so innocent in so many ways." 

Rosalie sensed the bulge in his pants swelling and enlarging, and then he 
took her hand and pressed it against the bulge. She knew he wanted something 
after all, but refused to demean herself by squeezing his cock. 

"Please undo my pants," he requested. 

Oh no! More humiliation! Would it never end? 

Her shivering fingers pulled down the zipper, then undid his belt, and the 
pants fell down around his feet. She helped him step out of them, thinking 
how ridiculous the man looked in his embroidered boxer shorts. At his 
insistence, she unwillingly pulled those down, as well. The penis at which 
she stared was in a semi-erect state. Once it had probably been quite a 
solid and formidable organ. Now, it would never fully harden again. All 
things considered, it was obvious the old man had been quite a rake in his 
time. 

Rosalie was kneeling in front of him, now, and he looked down at her, and 
said, "Rub it, Rosalie. I'm sure you know how." 

Reluctantly, not wanting to do so, not daring to refuse, she wrapped her 
fingers around the throbbing pole and began tugging it back and forth. At 
first she held it gingerly, but its softness demanded she squeeze it a 
little tighter, and she did so. Her hand moved back and forth, wondering 
what kind of a thrill the old man got when it was so flaccid. Her husband 
had also had troubles with his erection, but once it had stopped hardening, 
he'd had the decency to stop bothering her. 

Norton was groaning and sighing with continually mounting desire. He was 
getting hotter, and the heat was reflected in the temperature of the organ 
she gripped, tugging back and forth with increasing rapidity. Heavy beads of 
perspiration began building on his forehead, running down his brow, and he 
was quaking with lust as Rosalie continued tugging on his organ. 

Rosalie tried to shut her mind to what she was doing. She didn't think of 
herself as an individual, but rather as a mannikin to be manhandled by this 
old fool who had power over her, commanding her body. Her existence did not 
matter to, and she hoped this was an incident her mind would quickly forget, 
once it was over and done with. She tried her best to think of herself as 
being completely uninvolved. This man was abusing his power over her, and 
she didn't appreciate it. 

"You're doing a fine job," the old man croaked. "Don't stop. Just keep on 
doing it to me until I tell you what else I want you to do." 

What else? What in heaven's name else was there for her to do? He'd make her 
go on and on until her arm fell out of its socket. Just how long did he want 
her to do this vile, unholy deed? Uuuggggghhhhhh! The mere touch of his 
lizard-like skin disgusted her. She felt as if the man was causing all kinds 
of terrible things to happen within her, and she pulled faster, hoping to 
end this all the sooner. 

"Stand up while you do that," he ordered, and she reluctantly got to her 
feet. 

He kissed her throat, letting his old and withered lips move around her 
flesh. He was licking and sucking her throat, and she was afraid he'd leave 
hickey marks. His hands reached for her breasts again and began massaging 
her nipples, pulling on them much the same way she was tugging on his penis. 
His organ was getting hotter and hotter in her hand, and it was even 
stiffening a little. Hell! If it got much hotter, it'd burn the skin off the 
palm of her hand. One thing was certain, and that was, no matter how hot it 
got, she didn't dare let go. Harry Norton was too old to forgive even the 
slightest insult, even if it hadn't been meant as an insult. He was 
certainly too old to think of pleasing her, and at this point was selfishly 
interested in satisfying his own desires. Everyone and anyone in Residential 
was at his command. 

There was no doubt about it. His penis was definitely stiffening. How long 
it would remain stiff she had no idea, nor did she particularly care, but 
she did know she wanted this abominable happening over and done with as 
quickly as possible. 

Rosalie continued pumping the penis up and down, listening to the old man 
prattle on with delight at the feeling he was giving her, assuring her that 
she was-as efficient this way as she was working for Residential. The little 
hint he was throwing at her was not lost on her. As the company chairman, he 
expected her to do anything and everything he said, even though she had no 
wish to continue doing so. Even Stan Bright-forbid-was preferable to this. 

"You're doing a truly wonderful job," he assured her. "My body is becoming 
aroused as it hasn't been for quite some time. Just continue doing as I ask. 
Ah, yes, you're good, very, very good." 

He was all but chewing on her neck now like some evil vampire, his licking 
tongue slimily running around her throat. Then his mouth moved down the 
front of her body. It was obvious his lips were heading for her breasts. 
This was something she had expected, and she heaved a frustrated sigh, more 
anxious than ever to be away from here. She was glad the president of the 
company had brought his wife. At least he wouldn't be chasing after her. 

Her breasts were heaving up and down as his lips approached them. It was 
obvious from the glow in the old man's eyes that he loved the sight of her 
brown nipples straining so erect. 

Harry Norton was not nearly as senile as he appeared. Had he been so, he 
would have been retired much earlier. He knew Rosalie was doing this 
unwillingly, because no young woman liked the idea of making love to an 
older man. Power had its advantages. The trouble was, he was shortly going 
to lose that power. He decided he might as well take advantage of it this 
one last time. Hell! He had worked long and hard to get where he was. As the 
company chairman he certainly deserved whatever fringe benefits he was able 
to derive from the company, even if they . included unwilling women. 

Once, not too long ago, the women had been more than willing. Though he had 
fed his wife as much cock as she had desired, he always had more left over 
for some other young girl. Residential had hired many, many young women over 
the years. Most of them had lasted a short time, but those who remained, 
eventually fell under the scrutiny of Harry Norton, and he took full 
advantage of any and every opportunity. He had even sired children on some 
of them; something he had been unable to do with his own wife. Much of his 
salary had gone to the care and upbringing of these children, and one or two 
of them were salesmen for the company, today. He had no intention of helping 
them further though. No one had helped him attain his position. He wanted 
his children to succeed as he had done. Yes, he was doing the right thing. 

Lowering his head a bit more, he ran his tongue around the mound of 
Rosalie's white breast. Ah, her flesh was so tender and tasty to his tongue. 
She had such clean flesh. 

Norton had one of her breasts in the palm of his hand, and he was fondling 
it with a tender gentleness. All things considered, he was being very 
considerate of Rosalie as far as he was concerned. Hell! The other women had 
been bitten and chewed. He was on his best behavior with this one. 

"Like my cock?" he asked, knowing he was taunting her but unable to resist 
it. 

Rosalie wanted to tell him he made her stomach turn and that the mere 
presence of him was enough to make her throw up, but she had the good sense 
to hold it in. Soon he would be gone, and she wouldn't have to put up with 
the man. Rand Stroud would be her only problem, and compared to this old 
beast he would be a relative pleasure, though she was not ready to really 
admit as much-not even to herself. 

The old man's entire mouth engulfed her full breast, or as much of it as 
possible. His breath burned her flesh, and his mouth was so consistently 
sodden. His lips pulled back and sucked at her nipple as he smacked his lips 
around it. When he lifted his mouth from her breast, she felt his wet saliva 
drying. 

His mouth returned to its sucking, and Rosalie wondered if it was possible 
for her nipple to literally fall off with all the oral attention it was 
receiving. The man sucked constantly, without letup, and she wondered how 
much longer before her hand would make him release his ejaculate. She knew 
he intended sucking her and fondling her until he came. 

"Rosalie!" he gasped. "Ohhhhhhhhh! You have such good hands, and you taste 
so delicious. I think an old man like myself is going to fall in love with 
you, if only for a little while." 

Her hand was soaking wet, and she hoped he might be coming, but when she 
looked down she saw it was an overabundance of his colorless lubricant 
seeping from the tip in his cock. He probably hadn't lubricated so heavily 
in at least fifteen years. 

Taking her hand from his throbbing cock, she wiped it on the bedspread, but 
when she would have returned to jerking his organ he grabbed her hand. She 
wondered what was going through his mind and why he had suddenly stopped 
her. It made little, if any sense. What the hell, it was just as well. That 
damn penis of his had been much hotter than that of Rand Stroud, and she had 
felt very uncomfortable with her fingers around it. More of the clear 
lubricant was bubbling from the tip of his penis, dripping to the floor, and 
it made her shiver with disgust. Rosalie hoped the man would simply let her 
go. She hated to admit it, but touching his old, now solid organ had started 
the arousing fires in her. She didn't enjoy such feelings, and felt the 
sooner she stopped touching him, the sooner all this would end. Hell! Any 
other man would have fired three times over with the way she had jerked his 
pump handle. 

She stood there, looking at the old man as he began removing the rest of his 
clothing. He stood back and away from her, and he was wearing a wicked smile 
on his old lips when he stared at the full roundness of her breasts, heaving 
up and down, bobbling a little with her exhalations. He had no idea how old 
she was, though he knew she was no youngster, yet her breasts were as full 
and as firm as the mounds of any teenager. 

Rosalie stared at his upstanding organ. It was all white except for the 
head, and that was such a pale pink it might as well have been white. The 
blue veins were very clearly running around and around it, and it made her 
wonder if all penises had as many veins. Had this man been a bit younger, 
his penis would easily have rivaled that of Rand Stroud. It was one big 
organ all right, and in its hey-day, it had certainly seen a lot of action. 
Though Rosalie felt a certain amount of pity for the man because of his age, 
it didn't change her feelings toward him in any way. Age caught up to 
everyone. One day it would catch up to her, and she intended having a nice 
nest egg set aside when the time came. She had to give the old man credit 
though. Age might be taking its toll on him, but he wasn't giving up. He 
intended dying with some kind of semi-erection. This only served to frighten 
her all the more. 

She looked around, wondering just how did she go about finding a graceful 
way out, and she realized there was no graceful way out. This was something 
which had to be endured for the sake of her future. 

Harry Norton held his still-solid cock in his hand, looking down at it, 
amazed it had actually hardened, and more amazed that it was still hard. He 
was looking at her with all the lust and passion left in his creaking body. 
This woman was going to satisfy him all right. She was going to really make 
him come. It had been years since he'd had anything this hard, and he wanted 
to make the most of it. He knew if he tried fucking her, it might shrink 
before he actually buried it inside her. 

There was only one way to insure its continued hardness. The woman was under 
his control, and nothing would be able to stop him now. This was another 
fringe benefit of being in power. He intended taking full advantage of it, 
since this would probably be the last time he'd ever be able to have such 
control again-either over Rosalie, or his cock. 

"I would very much like to fuck you," he began, and Rosalie began 
shuddering. The mere idea of being stuffed with an organ like that made her 
quiver. "However, I'm not quite up to it." She relaxed a little. "The fact 
remains, I intend coming inside you." If he didn't fuck her how was that 
possible? "I don't know how much time I have left allotted to me on this 
earth, so I think you'll agree it's only natural for me to want to take full 
advantage of every moment." She wished she was able to take advantage of the 
moment and slip out of here. She didn't appreciate standing there with her 
breasts hanging out and her dress wrinkling as the top half hung down. "To 
me, my penis is very special.'-' 

To me, it's an instrument of torture, she thought. 

She remained silent, knowing it was better to say nothing until he gave her 
an opening. She only hoped he wouldn't have her start jerking him off, 
again. Her arm still felt the strain. Hell! She was tired from all that 
tugging. She wanted to sit down somewhere, but knew she didn't dare. Her 
knees felt very weak and gelatinous. 

"Once this was the biggest cock around," he continued, "and I've had more 
than one girl tell me it was the biggest one she ever handled." 

Rosalie looked at the door, wishing someone would knock and disturb them. 
Harry Norton was becoming another tiresome old man who liked to reminisce, 
wanting to be heard. 

"Tell me, d'you think I still have a nice, big penis?" he asked. 

Rosalie was tempted to shrug and stopped herself. Instead, she said, "Well, 
yes, but I'm not a good judge of penises. I mean it is bigger than that of 
my former husband." 

"Ah, good," he nodded, pleased with her answer. "Once, I'd have tumbled you 
on your back and I'd have fed this organ into your cunt until it spurted at 
least twice, and you would have come six or seven times yourself. Now, I'm 
not capable of it. I do feel you ought to pay a certain respect to this 
cock, anyway." 

Rosalie remained standing there, wishing he'd get to the point. His beating 
around the bush was extremely annoying. He was the one in command damn it, 
and it was apparent he didn't give a damn about the fact that she was 
uncomfortable. His only concern was the ultimate satisfaction she'd be able 
to give the solid organ her hand was still gripping. 

"Don't look so afraid," he said to her, mistaking her distaste for all this 
to be annoyance and fear. "Now come here. I want you to show me just how 
much you like my penis. I want you to convince me of your adoration for it. 
You see, once I'm definitely convinced, I'll sign the orders that will make 
you the new regional supervisor for the eastern home office. The company 
president will go along with anything I recommend." 

Rosalie's heartbeat quickened. The job was about to be hers. Yes, much as 
she felt distaste for the old man she'd be able to put up with him a little 
longer to secure that position. She wanted to let him know just how fond she 
was of his organ, and she was willing to caress it with both hands, fondling 
and tickling it if need be. 

"It's still quite a formidable weapon," she told him, glad he was unable to 
fuck her with it. 

"Yes indeed," he nodded. "I want you to prove how much you adore it, 
Rosalie. I want you down on your knees in front of me. I want you to kiss, 
lick, and suck it. I want the full length of it in your mouth-every last 
inch of it. I want you to swallow the meaty head down your throat." 

Rosalie stood there stunned. She was unable to believe what she had just 
heard. Was he insane? She had absolutely no intention of putting that white 
stick of flesh and muscle inside her mouth to let him dribble his oils down 
her throat-and much worse, shoot his semen down there as well. Not that it 
was covered with germs or anything like that. She knew sperm was totally 
germ-free. It had to be in order to exist. Yet to do this ... just how 
insensitive a man was he? 

"Come, come," he ordered. "Be kind to my penis. You did say you liked it. 
Now prove it, so I can prove to you how much I like you by giving you the 
job you've worked so hard to get. Come, Rosalie. Suck on it. The mere deed 
will make you feel aroused and alive. Believe me, I know. Many women have 
sucked on my penis." 

She froze, unable to move at that moment. There was no way on earth she'd do 
something as vile and disgusting as that. This man had to be totally out of 
his mind to even consider the possibility. The job! The damn job! Always the 
damn job! Heaven, why did this have to happen to her of all people. Other 
women succeeded strictly on merit. Why were they taking advantage of the 
fact that she was a female? 

"Come on, Rosalie," he insisted. "I'm getting tired of waiting. Just get 
down on your knees and start sucking. It's no great problem. I'm certain 
you're capable." 

His voice sounded louder and louder in Rosalie's ears. She had no desire to 
oblige this animalistic beast, but there simply was no way to escape from it 
and get the job she so badly coveted. She was trapped in this man's bedroom. 
He was still the lord and master. One day she would be in a position of 
power, and then... 

His hand reached out and cupped the nape of her neck, and the pressure of 
his palm forced her down, down, down, until she was on her knees. Slowly, 
very slowly, he forced her head closer and closer to the organ between his 
thighs, and in anticipating what she was about to do, the old man felt his 
erection stiffen even more. 

Rosalie stared, looking at the throbbing organ, the head swelling and 
receding, filled with blood and a much richer red, now. It was no longer the 
penis of an old man. It was the cock of a young buck. Let her escape from 
this horror. 

Her head moved closer, closer, and her face was touched by the head of the 
man's penis. Ugh! It was so slimy, so hot. It had become so thick, so long, 
and it appeared to still be growing. There was no way she'd be able to fit 
even part of that monstrous organ into her mouth, much less all of it. 

"Use your tongue," the shuddering old man gasped. "Roll it all around the 
head of my cock." 

She shivered with the mere thought of having to do such a terrible and 
formidable task. What made it even worse was the fact that she knew she was 
going to do it. She wanted that job, and if performing this loathsome task 
was what it took to get it, then by heaven she would do it. How absolutely 
revolting! 

"I'll make it easier for you," the old man told her. "After all, we don't 
want you straining your neck. I'll lie on the bed and you'll find it a lot 
easier. You'll see." 

He pulled her along with him as he walked over to the bed, and then he lay 
down, one hand gripping her hair to make certain she didn't suddenly change 
her mind and try to run away. Once he was horizontal, his big organ standing 
straight up in the air, he gasped, "Come, Rosalie. Suck it, and remember the 
wonderful pot of gold waiting for you at the end of my rainbow. " 

Slowly Rosalie lowered her head, smelling the musky fragrance of his seminal 
oil. Not that it was really unpleasant, but her mind seized any excuse to 
make it seem worse than it was. She breathed deeply, and the scent caused 
flurries inside her, even as her conscience insisted it was a horrible odor. 
She physically gasped as the first wave of aroma drifted through her 
quivering nostrils. How did this man conceive of the idea that she should 
use her mouth on his cock anyway? This close, the flesh looked whiter and 
more unpigmented than ever. 

"Now, lick it!" his voice sternly ordered, and Rosalie knew this was the 
moment. Either she did it, or she lost everything. 

Her tongue haltingly reached out and flatly stretched itself over the 
swollen dome of his cock. It seemed to eel its way from her mouth, hanging 
suspended in mid-air for the moment. Now it was touching the organ with the 
oily head, and the moment the tip of her tongue touched it, she noticed the 
way it jumped away, as if daring her oral digit to give chase. Her tongue 
leaped forward again, and once more the pressure of it made the penis jump 
aside. 

"Ohhhhhhhh ... uuuuuuunnn-nnnnnhhhhhhhh!! ! " the old man gasped. "Grab the 
base of my cock in your hand," he ordered, "and hold it steady. Just make 
sure not to squeeze too hard." 

Rosalie felt an overpowering urge to squeeze the damn thing so hard, it 
would fall off, making him faint. Fat lot of good it would do her in the 
long run. Once he awakened he'd see to it she was permanently out of a job. 
No, damn it! She was stuck with this whether she liked it or not, if only to 
reach the lofty pinnacle at which she was aiming. 

"Grab it!" Harry Norton gasped. 

She placed her delicate fingers tightly around it in a very orderly fashion, 
acting like some kind of cybernaut taking orders from its master because it 
had no will of its own. 

Her own will was screaming at her, trying to order her to disobey. Something 
deep inside told her she didn't dare. 

"Time is precious to an old man like myself," he murmured. "Don't waste any 
more of it, Rosalie. Start sucking and licking, and do it now." 

She hurriedly began rolling her pink tongue around the swollen head of his 
shuddering penis. She steeled herself to it, and though she wanted to 
cleanse her mouth' with a blowtorch, she continued. Her hand gripped the 
thick root to keep it from escaping from her licking mouth. 

"Jerk my cock up and down while you're licking," he ordered. 

Rosalie did as she was instructed, her fingers sliding up and down the 
fleshy shaft in the same fashion she had tugged on. Her tongue continued 
slurping around the head at the same time, licking swiftly, and jerking even 
more swiftly. 

"Yes, yes, yes!" he gasped. "Keep doing that, Rosalie. Just keep doing it 
that way." 

She continued licking with her tongue and stroking with her fingers. The old 
man's hips began jumping up and down, up and down as her tongue traveled 
over the red cap of his hot prick. The old man was enjoying himself as he 
hadn't been able to do for what seemed like an eternity of time. There was a 
smile on his face of total rapture. He had sincerely believed he'd never 
really be able to feel ' things this intensely again. This was some woman. 
He wished he'd known about her when she had first come to the company. Hell! 
By now she would have been president, and ready to take his place. 
Shit-all-mighty! She had a tongue on her, this one. 

Rosalie hated herself, yet her tongue avidly took to licking the weighty 
organ. The taste wasn't nearly as frightful as she had expected now that her 
tongue was able to taste the flavor of his meaty glans. She licked steadily, 
regulating the movement of her tongue repeatedly, lapping, lapping, lapping, 
as her hand continued jerking. 

"Good, good, good," the old man continued gasping. "Now, start sucking the 
head with your lips. Put the penis in your mouth and start bobbing your head 
up and down. Do it, Rosalie! Do it, now! Ohhhhhh!" 

Rosalie was a little confused, not knowing whether to suck, to go on licking 
and pulling, or what. The man wanted her to do all things at once, and that 
simply wasn't possible. 

"Come on-come on-come on," he urged. "Get to sucking. You can do it, honey. 
You have a mouth that was made for sucking. Use those lips, sweetheart. 
That's what they were made for. " 

Rosalie lowered her head over the man's seething phallus, surrounding the 
red tip with her lips, closing them in a ring tightly around the pulsating 
organ. At the same time her hand continued pulling on the phallic base. 
Slowly, very slowly, the anxious penis slid into her mouth, stretching her 
lips, bloating her cheeks, sinking deeper and deeper. Rosalie wanted to hate 
it, but her body was becoming more and more aroused, and she loved it. 
Inwardly, she despised herself for enjoying this terrible thing she was 
doing. The penis continued moving into her oral cave as if feeling its way 
along. The heat was burning her tongue and Rosalie marshaled more saliva in 
the hope of cooling off the penile lance. 

Harry Norton gyrated his hips wildly on the bed, feeling young again for the 
first time in a decade, plunging his penis deeper, enjoying the way it 
filled the woman's mouth. With each thrust of his hips his penis sank a 
little deeper into her mouth, reaching for her throat. 

"Yesssssssss..." he hissed. "That's the wayyyyyy ... yesssssss ... you're 
doing it perfectly. Oh you really know how to please an old man, Rosalie. I 
promise to see to it you're pleased." 

She continued stroking the base of his throbbing cock, filling her mouth 
with more and more of the penile pole. Her tongue continued twitching 
against the underside of the shuddering rod as she realized she was doing 
what he asked not because he was urging her to do so, but because she felt 
some inner urge to continue. 

"What a mouth!" he gasped. "What a fantastic mouth! You're the best mouth 
I've ever had," he gasped. "I wish I'd known about you, before. Oh fuck!" 

Her head was bobbing now, up and down, up and down, doing it quite naturally 
without urging from the old man, as if it was the most natural thing in the 
world. Her mind continued to rebel, telling her this was a wrong and 
unnatural thing she was doing, but her mouth kept on sucking all the same. 

"That sweet mouth of yours is unbelievable," the old man gasped. "You make 
me feel young again. It's the sweet softness of your lips now holding me a 
prisoner." 

Him a prisoner! she thought. She was the one being held prisoner by this 
horrid old man. He was free to stop this any time he wished. She was the one 
who was trapped. She was the one who was being forced to use her mouth 
against her will to perform this horribly obscene act. She was the one 
trapped. 

He was moaning and groaning all the louder as his body continued its moving, 
getting hotter and hotter with every delightfully agonizing movement of her 
bobbing head. He had all the pleasure and she all the agony. 

"Rosalie, if I were younger, I'd fall in love with you," the old man gasped. 
"That wonderful mouth of yours would be mine, forever. No one else would be 
permitted to know its sweet touch. Tell me, did you ever do this with your 
husband?" 

She shook her head from side to side with the penis still between her lips, 
driving him even wilder, making him ache to climb the walls. Every little 
movement of her mouth as it slid down, then up, down, then up, brought the 
man closer to the ecstasy he had so long forgotten. 

"My testicles," he gasped. "Fondle my testicles as well. Treat them with all 
the loving care they deserve. I want to feel you being nice to all of me, 
Rosalie. I want to feel it deep down. I want to feel that you care about an 
old man." 

I care about what the old man is offering me, she thought, otherwise I'd die 
before doing something so totally debasing. 

Her head continued bobbing up and down, and the hand she had around the base 
of his phallus now slid down to his balls, caressing them, cupping them, 
hefting them rubbing them and making him squeal as he wriggled all over the 
bed. Her fingers continued rubbing the sac as her mouth bobbed up and down 
on the throbbing penis. She sensed it swelling in her mouth as she continued 
sucking, and the heat was becoming unbearable. 

Her head continued bobbing, and she knew there was no way for her to answer 
his stupidly incessant questions at the moment. For her to do so would mean 
she'd have to take her mouth from his cock, and that would be impossible. 
Having come this far, having permitted herself to be this humiliated, she 
wasn't going to do anything that might risk her losing that job. She'd had 
to whore for it, and she was going to get it. She was certain that at this 
point he would much rather have her suck and lick his cock than talk to him. 

"Ohhhhhh ... yesssssss..." he continued gasping. "I can tell from the way 
you're sucking and licking that you're getting a certain amount of enjoyment 
from this, too, aren't you, Rosalie?" 

The more she did this, the more she found herself addicted to it, and the 
more addicted to it she became, the more she hated him for having made her 
realize what cocksucking was all about. She hated herself even more, for not 
having the courage to throw everything aside in order to keep her pride. 
Pride! One didn't pay the rent with pride. Pride was what was supposed to go 
before a fall. Much as she wanted to retain her pride, she had enough common 
sense to realize her security was more important than her pride, and anyone 
who denigrated her for doing other than what she was doing deserved a swift 
kick in the mouth. If there was any chastising of herself to be done, she'd 
be the one to do it. She didn't need outside help. 

This was the man who was making her do this horrible thing, though, and deep 
down inside she would never forgive him for it. He didn't deserve the 
pleasure he was feeling. He deserved to have his organ bitten off directly 
under the corona. If she'd had an ounce of guts that was precisely what she 
would have done. The nerve of him telling her she liked it. How the hell 
would he know just what was going on inside her mind? The son of a bitch! He 
had to be out of his cotton-picking mind. 

"Come on..." he urged. "Tell me the truth, Rosalie. You love this, don't 
you, you really love it. Doesn't it feel good to have the penis in your 
mouth?" 

He was moving his hips up and down now, punching his cock in and out of her 
mouth with a certain amount of regularity. Rosalie felt the swollen organ 
pressing deeper and deeper against the entrance to her gullet, and she was 
certain the cock would never fit in there. It was so thick, so immense, it 
was hard enough for her to stretch her mouth around it. 

His hand was pressing down on her head, now, pushing-pushing, shoving the 
rounded knob of his thrusting cock into the tightly squeezing depths of her 
narrow esophagus. It became even hotter as it probed into her throat, making 
her choke and cough, and she felt like retching all over the man. Once 
again, thoughts of her job kept her from doing so. The hold this man had on 
her for the time being was stronger than anything any extortionist might try 
holding over her head. His hips were moving faster now, thrusting the penile 
head even deeper into her clutching gullet, making her gag even more. She 
had to breathe through her nostrils. It was difficult at best. There was a 
stickiness leaking into her throat, and she realized she was swallowing the 
man's lubricant. She was gulping it down, drinking it, wanting more of it, 
even though it was completely tasteless, save for a bit of saltiness. She 
quivered, disgusted with herself that she wanted to do this. 

"Come up onto the bed," he ordered, lying back, and Rosalie did as he 
ordered, feeling him pull her rear around so that it was facing him. His 
hand swiftly delved under her dress and under the leg band of her panties, 
reaching for the wet hole between her thighs. She was astonished to find she 
was soaking wet in there. He slid a finger right into her, and she jumped, 
jamming her mouth a little lower on the throbbing organ between her lips. 
She found herself sucking fervently, unable to believe just what it was she 
was doing. Oil was oozing from her vaginal opening as swiftly as it was 
leaking from the head of his penis and dribbling down her sucking throat. 

"Good! Good! Good! Keep sucking!" he ordered. "Suck harder, harder, pull at 
my cock you sweet bitch!" 

His voice sounded louder and louder in her ears. Rosalie realized she was 
uncomfortable with his fingers wedged under her crotch band, and she wished 
she'd been able to remove her panties. However, though she was sucking 
instinctively, she sincerely believed that every move on her part was being 
guided by the man whose penis was in her mouth. She realized that it was 
barely possible she might learn to like something like this if she was with 
a man to whom she was married, but this way ... never. Even so, her head 
never missed a beat, bobbing, consistently up and down, pushing the 
pulsating penis deeper and deeper into her sucking throat. 

"Don't let me shrink," the old man was begging. "Keep sucking like that. 
Keep it up ... keep it up..." 

She continued sucking, her own body writhing as his middle finger squirmed 
around and around in her tight pussy, making her writhe and wriggle 
uncontrollably. His thumb slid inside and began massaging her clitoris, and 
she really went wild. She felt the way her oil was oozing out of her, 
wetting her panties, running down her two thighs. 

Rosalie's body was tingling and there was no way for her to stop it. Even 
though she consistently told herself this was wrong, and this was a horrible 
old man, she began moving her body instinctively. She told herself again and 
again that she wasn't doing this because she wished to, but simply because 
she had to. This was a dog-eat-dog world, and sometimes, in order to prevent 
a dog from eating her, she had to do something like this. Even so, all the 
excuses in the world didn't keep her from feeling ashamed of herself for 
what she was doing. 

She tried stopping the motion of her hips, but that was ridiculous. The 
finger thrusting back and forth inside her, and the thumb playing games on 
her clitoris, had her completely under their control whether she liked it or 
not. All the while her head continued bobbing up and down, up and down, and 
on each downstroke, the heavy point of his masculine wand plunged into the 
roiling depths of her tight gullet, sinking further and further in. 

"Rosalie, Rosalie..." the old man gasped. "You're wonderful." 

She wasn't wonderful. She was a tramp who was doing all this now to insure 
her future and make certain she had all the good things in life. Her head 
kept moving up and down, and her buttocks wobbled from side to side as his 
fingers continued playing with her lower regions. Her juices were flowing so 
freely now, had she looked, Rosalie would have seen them running halfway up 
the old man's arm. 

Her mouth was soaking wet. The oils seeping from his cock, mingling with her 
saliva were dribbling out and pouring down his pelvis, making his white 
pubic hairs wet. Her lips continued pulling, her tongue continued licking, 
and her head kept on bobbing. She sucked strongly, slurping, drinking, 
draining, enjoying without wanting to do so. 

"Before you leave..." he gasped, "I ... uhhhhh ... want you to see me write 
my recommendation for your promotion." 

This was enough to make her bob her head all the more excitedly as her lips 
sucked even more strongly. His penis was swelling, thickening, and she knew 
he was going to erupt in her mouth. Good! Would she be able to take the 
fluid? Heaven help her if she backed out now, at the last moment. She had to 
do it; she had to swallow the old man's horrible sperm. 

"AAAAAAIIIIIIY-YYYYYAAAAAGGGGGGHHHHHH ... EEEEEEYYYYYAAAAAAIIIIIII..." he 
gasped, and fired one liquid stream after another straight down her throat, 
and Rosalie, closing her eyes tightly, swallowed without thinking. She 
drank, feeling more and more of it flood from between her lips, seeping down 
her cheeks. 

"Don't take your head away," he gasped. "Swallow it all ... every last drop 
of it." 

At this point Rosalie didn't need to be told. For some unexplainable reason, 
she was enjoying the taste of the white fluid, and she drank strongly, 
pulling every last ounce down her throat into her stomach. 

The penis immediately began wilting, but she continued swallowing as his 
fingers moved listlessly in her vagina. She rubbed her body back and forth, 
feeling his thumb massage her clitoris a bit more, and then she was reaching 
a peak of sorts, but it was a minor peak. Her lips remained tightly clamped 
around the throbbing, shrinking penis, and she sucked out the last remaining 
drops of his sperm. Afterward, her tongue washed his penis and his 
testicles, cleaning up anything that was left. 

When it was over, Rosalie hated herself more than ever. She was becoming 
more and more of a tramp just to secure this job she had sought for such a 
long time. Would she be able to live with herself afterward, knowing just 
what it was she had done to secure this position? 

"Help me up," Harry Norton insisted. 

She did so, and he staggered over to the writing desk where he sat down, 
took a sheet of paper, and wrote his recommendation that Rosalie be promoted 
to regional supervisor for the eastern home office. He sealed it in an 
envelope, then put on a robe while Rosalie went into the bathroom to dress 
herself. By the time she had come out, he had already given the envelope to 
a bellboy to deliver to the president of Residential. 

"I want you to know you made an old man very happy, tonight," he said, 
letting her out. 

 CHAPTER FOUR 

The seminars were held in a series of conference rooms on the second floor 
of the hotel the following morning. After breakfast, all the salesmen 
attended, and there were a bunch of top salesmen who did a lot of lecturing, 
as well as some home office experts who had brought down new sales aids. 

Rosalie helped instruct the seminar in group sales, and then she was free 
for the rest of the day. She decided to do a little shopping since things 
were considerably less expensive here in the bahamas than back home, except 
for food. The prices in the Freeport supermarket were outrageous. 

Had she been a drinking woman, she would have been allowed to bring back two 
duty-free bottles of any liquor she wanted, but liquor had never appealed to 
her that much. 

She found a little arcade across the street from the hotel and bought 
herself some sandals, two new dresses, and a sun hat. She decided she didn't 
want to eat lunch at the hotel, and so found a little restaurant where the 
food was surprisingly good and the drinks weren't too flat. She noticed that 
the water in Freeport had a terribly flat taste to it-at least at the hotel. 

She was on her way back to the hotel when she ran into Stanley Bright. 

"Well, well," Bright said, smiling at her, "I hear you pulled off some sort 
of coup. You just aced me out of that supervisory job. Well, what the hell, 
I don't have a cunt." 

"Stanley, you're terrible," she snapped. "Rest assured, I did not use my 
lower regions in any way to convince Mr. Norton." 

"Oh, then you do admit you convinced Norton." 

"I was with him in the gambling casino, last night," she said. "I had the 
opportunity, so I spoke to him. Wouldn't you?" 

"I guess," he nodded. "I still think there's some hanky panky somewhere. The 
old man didn't come down until well after two-o'clock in the afternoon. He 
must have had some rough night." 

"He's an old man," Rosalie replied. "And that you think I had something 
physical to do with him is shameful." 

"You're the Iron Mistress," Bright nodded. "I forgot. I still don't see how 
you conned him, though." 

"Compare our records as district representative, Stanley, and then you tell 
me how I conned him." 

"Ohhhh, aren't we getting bitchy." 

"Stan, I have two words for you. They are not Happy Birthday. One is an 
adjective, and the other is a verb." 

"Cute, cute, really cute," Stanley Bright snorted. "One of these days, 
Rosalie, I'm going to get you alone, in a helpless position, and I promise 
to take full advantage of it." 

"Oh I can believe that, Stan. I'll just have to see to it that you never 
catch me in a compromising position." 

Rosalie went into the hotel and took her packages up to her room. Well, all 
the bull was over now, except for the big finale, which would come the 
following night. A huge party would be held, awards would be handed out, and 
that was when all the announcements would officially be made. 

The door connecting her room with that of Rand Stroud opened, and the 
present supervisor-soon-to-be-president walked into her room, saying, "Well, 
well. You did something right, last night. You made quite an impression on 
our outgoing chairman. If he was a little younger and you were a bit more 
liberal, I would believe you'd seduced him. I know better than that." 

"Thanks for your vote of confidence," she smirked. 

"You in the mood to fool around?" 

"I'm never in the mood," she told him. 

"So you say," he laughed. "The truth of the matter is, inwardly, you're 
always in the mood. Rosalie, whether you like it or not, you have an 
overheated cunt, I do believe. What's more, I have the fire hose to put out 
the heat." 

"What an absolutely filthy, disgusting, chauvinistic thing to say," she 
snapped at him, wishing she was able to look at him through the sights of a 
gun. He was always so smug, so sure of himself. She wished she'd be able to 
castrate him, and then shove those damn testicles of his down his rotten 
throat. 

"The truth really hurts," he laughed. "Whether you care to admit it or not, 
you have an overheated pussy, honey." 

"Must you be consistently insulting as well as disgusting?" she cursed at 
him. 

"What you need in that overheated pussy is frequent injections of cock-my 
cock to be precise. You're going to have to learn to come down off that high 
horse of yours, honey. One of these days, when I yell fuck, you'll be here, 
panting and drooling and ready to go, and what's more, we both know it." 

"Get out of here, Rand, she snapped. 

"Not just yet," he replied, and threw her down on the bed. His hand reached 
under her dress, and he was literally ripping her panties off, rubbing her 
silken-fringed mound. It was wet. 

Every time there was a little sunshine in Rosalie's life, something had to 
come along and spoil it. There were times, like now, that she wished she 
were able to dig a hole in the floor and just jump in. She wished her body 
would simply disappear into some deep, dark, mysterious sea and never be 
found again. 

Perhaps the most shocking discovery was the fact that her body was starting 
to betray her, repeatedly. She hated the crude way Rand Stroud handled her, 
but the son of a bitch somehow managed to excite her physical senses, and 
this was irritating. Even the vile handling of her tender vagina seemed to 
arouse her. What was going on inside her? Things like this had never 
happened to her before. Her husband had always been a bore, a dull 
insensitive clod who had always fumbled his way through sexual intercourse. 
Just what was it about this man that excited her, so? 

Shame filled her and she struggled, but his fingers gripped her labia hard, 
and he muttered, "I've literally got you by the short and curlies honey, not 
to mention your tender cunt lips. You just lie there and relax. In fact, to 
make things a little harder for you, suppose you roll over on that lovely 
belly of yours-once we have you stripped." 

Just how he managed to ease the clothing from her supine body was something 
Rosalie never quite figured out. He seemed to be some kind of magician, his 
hands moving here, then, there, and once again she was totally naked-and so 
was he. Then she was belly down on the bed, her thighs wide apart, and he 
was sprawling his weight on top of her. 

"You hypocritical prude," he snapped. "You damned hypocritical prude." His 
hands moved feverishly over her lush body, touching her back, rubbing the 
white smoothness of it. "You're built like a ceramic defecatorium with tile 
floors." 

He forced her thighs wider apart, looking at the contrast of tan on the 
front part of her flesh and whiteness where the sun had not yet been able to 
reach. His hands moved, not gently, but not roughly, over the backs of her 
knees, tickling them a little before once again delving between the white 
tenderness of her inner thighs. Her pouting vaginal cleft seemed to move in 
and out with her breathing, waiting, anticipating, almost anxiously desiring 
the feel of his fingers. Her moist furrow was leaking a little of the 
colorless oil, wetting both pairs of vaginal lips, making them shine. 

"You have the tightest pussy I've ever touched," he told her, deliberately 
choosing his words to inflame her, knowing her indignance was something he'd 
be able to channel into desire. 

"Those cunt lips of yours really know how to grab. You have what we call a 
snapping pussy. It closes tightly around something and doesn't let go. Hell, 
I've known some virgins who were loose compared to you." 

He pushed two fingers into her, gripping her cunt lips and pulling a little, 
and Rosalie was afraid he might tear her skin and cause some kind of damage 
to her body. 

"D-Don't hurt me," she begged. "Please don't hurt me. " 

"What happened to the bitch who was going to struggle and fight me every 
inch of the way?" he asked. "Where is she?" 

"Rand ... please. . . " she gasped, fighting to hold back tears. "This is 
unworthy of you. You may be many things but until now I never thought of you 
as crude. " 

Stroud laughed, then pulled his fingers from her creaming depths and grabbed 
her silky pelvic hair, saying, "Well, well, so now I'm crude, eh. If you say 
so, Rosalie. I guess I'll just have to act the game since you've given me 
the name." He pulled her hairs, twisting them a little, and Rosalie winced, 
feeling the natural pain that resulted from there. "Though I have no 
intention of marring your delicate flesh, or bruising your body in any way, 
a little pain might be just the thing to bring you into line, Rosalie." 

"You said you weren't a sadist," she gasped. 

"Honey, you're making things a bit difficult for me, so why shouldn't I make 
them difficult for you. I intend screwing you one helluva lot, even after 
you've officially been made supervisor. After all, you do want the 
presidency in a few years when I'm moved up to the chairmanship, and I will 
be, Rosalie, you can bet on it. I'm less interested in causing you pain than 
in causing degradation, if only to change that frigid personality of yours. 
I want you totally committed to fucking-especially for me. I'm reasonable 
though. When I'm not around, if you feel like being with some other guy, be 
my guest, as long as he doesn't have some kind of social disease. You know, 
the more I think about it, the more I believe a little humility is good for 
the soul, particularly your soul." He twisted her lower hairs a bit more, 
and Rosalie gasped, kicking backward, trying to get away from him. Stroud 
merely pressed his weight against her buttocks, pinning her down. He had no 
trouble keeping her locked to the mattress. "Now slow clown," he told her, 
"or you might accidentally hurt yourself." 

"All right, all right," she whimpered, babbling with near hysteria. 

"Promise to take orders?" 

"Anything ... anything ... just stop hurting me." 

"That's better," he said, taking his weight off her. "I know you never go 
back on a promise." 

Standing, he went to the connecting door and entered his own room for a 
moment. When he came back, it was with a small glass filled with liqueur. 
Rosalie took it and sipped. Oh yes! She really needed that. 

"What happened between you and the old man last night?" Stroud asked, 
dropping his nakedness onto the bed next to her. 

Rosalie noted his penis was at half mast. Obviously he didn't really get 
pleasure from hurting her. She was glad of that. Nevertheless, she felt a 
certain loathing for the man. He was, after all, a married man. Why didn't 
he take his lusts out on his wife rather than screw any woman he was able to 
get his hands on. This was obscene. Still, there was a certain fascination 
about him, and she did feel a warm pleasure in looking at his naked body she 
had never felt with her husband. She put the glass down. 

"Since I didn't tell him what went on between you and me, I don't think it 
proper to discuss what happened in his suite." 

"Are you telling me the old boy can still get it up? 

"I'm not telling you a damn thing," she insisted. 

"Snippy bitch!" he snapped, reaching out and swatting her buttocks, watching 
as they whitened, then reddened. 

"Ouch!" she snapped. "That hurt." 

"A little honest pain is good for the soul." 

"Fine," she agreed, and kicked him in the side. 

"That does it!" he insisted, and leaping on her, held her body down with one 
hand while he proceeded to whack the daylights out of her behind, swatting 
hard. 

"Ouch! Ouch! Ouch!" Rosalie yelped with each smack of his hand. "That 
hurts!" 

"You going to behave?" he asked, his hand poised to wallop her buttocks 
again. 

"I-I'll try," she promised, feeling tears in her eyes, hating herself for 
allowing herself to be so degraded, yet feeling more and more fascinated by 
Rand Stroud as heat burned through the fanny he had so injudiciously 
walloped. 

"Let's just see," Stroud said, and took hold of her legs and tugged them 
wide apart, spreading them so he was able to get a close look at her 
dripping vagina. It was filled with oils, as if the spanking had indeed 
aroused her. 

"You have such a lovely vagina," he told her. "If time allowed I'd sit and 
stare at it all day." 

"I'm more than a vagina," she gasped. "I'm a woman, a whole woman. I wish 
you men would think of me as something more than a hole into which to poke 
your penises. I'm more than a sperm depository." 

Rosalie was angry, not so much at Stroud, but at her former husband. She 
thought back to a conversation they had once had when she had been a 
housewife and he had been the wage earner. 

Remember, my love, you are a cunt. You eat, you sleep, you talk, you even 
walk, but all that doesn't count. You are first and foremost a cunt, a 
pussy, a place for me to bury my cock and unload my sperm. The one important 
part of your body to me is your cunt. The rest of you is merely a shell that 
surrounds your cunt-a means of support and transportation to take your cunt 
from room to room so I can fuck it wherever I choose. 

That turned out to be the laugh of the century. Her husband had turned out 
to be a semi-impotent clod right from the start, and frustrated, as if his 
inability to perform was her fault. He had almost de-personalized her, 
removing her ego, destroying her individualism, actually convincing her she 
was nothing but a carrier for her vagina-a vagina he never did know how to 
properly use. 

Rosalie had been determined not to sink any deeper into the mire of 
dehumanization. One day she had picked herself up, she had gone out, and she 
had gotten herself a job as a saleslady for the Residential Insurance 
Company. They had paid her a salary for the first eight weeks, after which 
she was half on salary and half on commissions until they stopped paying her 
a salary altogether. By that time, her commission backlog was so high, she 
was drawing eight-hundred a week, and the money going into her account was 
greater than that which she withdrew. Soon she was drawing fifteen-hundred a 
week, and she realized she had no need for a useless husband who was a 
millstone around her neck. So she divorced him, and became a division 
manager at Residential, training new salespeople, collecting overrides on 
their commissions, still making sales on her own, and because of her 
renewals she was soon pulling in two-thousand a week. Without asking, she 
was made a full office manager, with a salary of thirty-five-thousand a 
year, plus her renewals, plus the overrides she was making, in addition to 
still going out and occasionally making a sale by herself. She was pulling 
in more than sixty-thousand a year. When she was promoted to district 
representative, she was given an expense account, though her salary remained 
stable. Now she was about to become regional supervisor, which, with the 
pension plan she was expecting to receive, would boost her to 
seventy-five-thousand a year. The presidency carried a salary of well over a 
hundred-and-fifty-thousand a year with an unlimited expense account, and the 
chairmanship had a base salary of a quarter of a million, plus an unlimited 
expense account. 

"You like my looking at your body, don't you?" Stroud asked, breaking into 
her reverie, his fingers working delicately between her hair-adorned labia, 
opening them a little wider to expose the pink slabs of shell-colored flesh. 

"I like the idea of your looking at all of me," she shudderingly admitted, 
which was the biggest admission she had ever made. "But I don't like your 
staring at the one part of my anatomy which isn't even flesh. You're simply 
looking at a void, and I detest that." 

"You're quite a woman, Rosalie," he said to her. "I might easily learn to 
love you, but to do that, I'd have to be loved back, and I don't think 
you're ready to do that." 

"Not with a man who is married to someone else." 

"So then we'll keep this strictly on a physical basis. As you know, I've had 
physical relations with a lot of women, some even more mature than yourself, 
many considerably younger. I never let facial features bother me, though 
yours happen to be well above average. However, I have to admit, when it 
comes to the void, as you call it, between your legs, you happen to have the 
best one I've ever encountered, bar none. You are really something else. I'm 
glad I've already tried you on for size. Now I know old peter will fit 
inside you." He rubbed his heavy penis against the back of her thigh, making 
her quiver a little. "You have me so hot, I'll tell you right now, if my 
cock didn't fit in that tight cunt of yours, I'd force it in, or I'd drill a 
new hole into you. You are really something else." 

Rosalie felt as if every word and deed this man was saying and doing was 
designed to cheapen and humiliate her. He was deliberately and calculatingly 
trying to degrade and shame her, at least as far as she was concerned. 
Though she tried to close her ears to what he was saying, ignoring the words 
coming out of him, she was unable to stop her body from burning with an 
inner excitement. She knew it was a perverse arousal and did her best not to 
feel it, but in her mind's eye, she saw the stalk he was rubbing against her 
thigh. She knew what it looked like; all tan, with a rich purple head that 
seemed to almost shine. She wondered if the devil had a cock like that. 
Cock? Yes, cock. It was a perfect word to describe the appendage of a man 
who strutted about like a barnyard rooster. Her body was inwardly shivering 
and shaking, and she realized there was an urgent need in her. She had to 
close her mind to such feelings. Soon they would take her over and totally 
dominate her. 

Stroud was on his knees, now, between her thighs, inching his way up between 
them. 

"I'll give this order only once," he told her. "If it isn't obeyed, I'm 
afraid I'll have to start spanking you again. Pull your hindquarters higher. 
Push your knees under you and prop that lovely ass up nice and high." 

Rosalie knew that not doing so would merely invite more pain. Eventually she 
would have to comply, and so on, against her will to do so, she raised her 
ass and propped her knees beneath her. His penis was already there, butting 
against the cheeks of her behind, and she felt the sticky wetness rub all 
over her nether cheeks. 

"It's as stiff as it's ever going to be," he told her. "You can feel the 
heat coming from it. Well, in a few minutes I'm going to be fitting it into 
that lovely groove of yours." 

Rosalie let her head fall to the pillow beneath her, and she glanced back 
between her thighs and dangling breasts to see his hanging testicles. The 
burning length of his phallus slid back and forth in the groove between her 
ass-cheeks, feeling it indent her flesh, and she shivered, hating the 
typical male arrogance this man was displaying. His liquid was soiling her 
skin. 

As if sensing she resented his lubrication running all over her body, Stroud 
began rubbing the head of his penis all over her nether cheeks, wetting 
almost every square inch of whiteness, making her quake with what she 
believed was disgust. Looking around the side of her body, he saw the way 
her breasts were dangling, and he said, "I'm going to have to french-lay you 
one of these days." 

Not that she really cared, but for lack of something better to say, Rosalie 
asked, "What are you talking about?" 

"You'll lie on your back and push your lovely breasts together so I can fuck 
my cock between them." 

"And what happens when you decide to come." 

"I can either come on your breasts, in your lovely mouth, which, by the way, 
I look forward to doing on our next get-together, or just spurt into your 
face." 

"You really can be loathsome, Rand." 

"You, on the other hand, are always lovely," he laughed. "It would really be 
a sight to see, your face all covered with semen. Yes, I'll have to try 
that, someday." 

Rosalie closed her eyes to shut his words from her conscious mind. Somehow 
it all seemed so horribly disgusting. Her body, on the other hand, was 
warming up to what he was saying, and as a result she felt spurious blasts 
of heat flare through her. She was inwardly afire with lust, and in spite of 
all she was doing to fight it, her thighs began writhing, rubbing together, 
and her inner syrup began washing all over her inner thigh flesh. 

"You are getting hot," Stroud laughed. "I can smell it. And when you get 
hot, honey, you get hot. That aroma is delicious." He moved his penis slowly 
up and down the length of her anal slit, feeling the way she trembled, and 
he said, "You're too proud to admit it, Rosalie, but you want my cock inside 
you. You want it in your cunt ... and right now, don't you? Well, you know 
what? You can just wait a little because I'm in no particular hurry, this 
time. I'm going to let you know how it feels to want sexual satisfaction and 
not have it because the other person is a stubborn jackass, or in your case, 
a stubborn jenny. You keep going through life thinking men are animals 
because they want to sexually assault you. Sure they want to assault you. 
You're an extremely attractive woman. If you were an old hag or an ugly, 
skinny bitch, no one would want anything to do with you. You'd be able to 
walk down the street stark naked and all you'd get is arrested. One of these 
days the juices in your body are going to take over, and when you look at an 
attractive man you're going to feel all hot and bothered just by looking. 
I'm going to tease you and tantalize you until you beg me for my cock 
instead of always fighting me off." 

"You have a good case," she said sarcastically. 

"You're damn right I have a good case. Hell! I used to plead with you often 
enough." 

"I'll never beg," she snapped again, but her voice was quavering, and 
Rosalie despised herself because what he was telling her was coming to pass 
a lot sooner than even he would have expected. His continual rubbing of his 
penis up and down between her rectal orbs, while his hand danced over her 
body and inflaming her beyond control. Still, she kept her mouth shut. She 
refused to demean herself. His fingers trickled their way over her back 
again and again, sliding around to the front, massaging her breasts, teasing 
her nipples, pulling on them. His fingers were butterflies of lustful 
delight, and each little touch sent Rosalie deeper into the well of desire. 
She was all aflame and knew there was only one way to climb out of the well. 

"Do it!" she snapped, almost ordering him. "I beg your pardon?" he asked. 
"Damn you, Rand, I said do it." 

"Do what?" 

"You damn well know what. Do it." 

"No ... not yet. I don't think so." 

"Please, Rand. " 

"Please? Well now, that does sound a little better. Now just how am I 
supposed to please? What is it you want me to do? I mean, I thought you 
considered yourself too good for me, or for that matter, for any man." 

"Stop it!" she gasped. 

"Rosalie, you were always too much of a lady for common, vulgar sex. So I'd 
like to know, just what is it you want?" 

"You know, you know," she told him, impatiently wriggling her hips and 
thrusting her buttocks backward without being consciously aware of what she 
was doing. 

"Oh yes, I do know," Stroud told her. "However, there is a proper decorum 
that has to be observed." 

Rosalie didn't want to ask. She didn't want to do any of this. It was all so 
wrong, so out-of-character with the individual she had become. She wasn't 
above uttering four-letter epithets, and she had done so when the occasion 
had called for it. She had even spoken such words with Rand Stroud before, 
but somehow it felt so wrong to let him squeeze them out of her at this 
particular moment. ' "I-I can't," she gasped. 

"Force yourself, honey. Let those pretty red lips say all the wonderful 
dirty words as well as the nice ones." 

"Have some decency, Rand. Don't continue demeaning me, this way. Don't make 
me say those words, now. Just do it and get it over with." 

"Get it over with? Since when is sex something to be gotten over with? No 
way, Rosalie. Either you ask for it the way I want, or you just don't get 
it," and he rubbed his torrid phallus between her roundly jiggling buttocks. 
"Just remember, I can hold back a lot longer than you." 

"Please, please, I can't stand this any longer," the poor woman moaned. She 
bit her lips and tossed her head a little. Chemical changes had started 
taking place inside her right from the First time Rand Stroud had fucked 
her. Having sucked on Harry Norton's penis the previous night had only 
intensified things. Rosalie was completely out of control of her body, now. 
She was angered with herself for not being able to tell her physical self 
how to feel, but there was no help for it. "Help me, Rand, " she gasped. 
"Please help me. " 

"Not until you say what I want to hear, the way I want to hear it. Come on, 
Rosalie. Once again, you want something, and I want something. I want you to 
ask using the proper litany. Besides, hearing you speak that way gives me a 
thrill." 

His penis was now rubbing in the groove between her vaginal lips, sliding 
back and forth but making no effort to penetrate her body. Rosalie let her 
head press into the pillow again, and she stared at his organ; a pulsating 
purple-headed beast, so close to her vagina, yet not where she really needed 
it. As she looked at it she knew she was going to surrender to Rand Stroud. 
This was his kind of war, and she didn't have a chance fighting against him, 
this way. Her vagina ached for that throbbing hunk of muscle, just as it had 
spurned that of her former husband. She wanted it, she really wanted it, and 
she knew she wasn't able to do without it. Another penis might not be as 
good. She had to have this particular organ. She gritted her teeth for a 
moment, took a deep breath, then finally gasped, "You rotten son of a bitch! 
You mother-fucking bastard! Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck my cunt with that fat 
cock of yours. Fuck me until there's nothing left in those balls of yours. 
You've always threatened to screw the ass off me. Well go ahead and prove 
you can do it, now, " 

"Thatta girl," Stroud complimented, triumphantly. "Now you're speaking my 
language. That's the kind of thing that'll get you my cock any and every 
time. The woman in you is overcoming the dainty lady and snobbish prude. 
We'll make a first-class female out of you yet, Rosalie Martin." 

"Hurry! Hurry!" Rosalie loudly gasped, rotating her buttocks, unable to wait 
for him to inject himself into her. She felt the head of his rigid masculine 
mace rubbing her cunt lips, moving from one thigh to the other. Once again 
she flung her buttocks at him, hoping to trap his organ between her vaginal 
lips and then suck it into her. 

"That's my girl," Stroud complimented, rubbing the roundness of her 
buttocks. "Now you're the cock-hungry lady I always knew you to be." He 
laughed and rubbed the head of his penis between her lubricating labia, 
holding it back from actually penetrating her sodden trough. "You really 
want it, don't you," he laughed. "What would you do to get it?" 

Rosalie shuddered, hating herself more and more. She had become the total 
slave of her body. What would she do? Damn it all, she didn't want to do 
this, but she would do anything ... anything at all. Tears rolled down her 
face as she wept for her lost resistance. How would she be able to face 
herself in the mirror? It was not so much the sexuality of all this, but the 
fact that he had so humbled her, he was making her ask for the one thing in 
her life she had always sworn she'd be able to do without. He was one cruel 
son of a bitch, and he was making her so dependent on him, she was now 
willing to do anything and everything to get what he had to offer. 

"Anything. . . " she finally gasped out loud. "I'll do anything you want, 
but just slam that damn fucking cock of yours into my cunt. Please, Rand. " 

"Good!" he grunted. "Just remember this promise in the future. I'm going to 
hold you to it." 

"Ohhhhh! Why am I like this? What has me so out of control?" 

Rand Stroud smiled to himself. The cantharides he had put in her drink had 
acted quickly and effectively. He would never tell her he had helped her 
emotions along a little with a touch of Spanish Fly. In the future, such 
chemical assistance would be unnecessary. The mere memory of what was 
happening now would be enough to arouse her glands and make her want to fuck 
like the proverbial bunny rabbit. 

"I promise ... I promise ... I'll do anything, no matter how degrading, but 
please fuck me ... now!" Perspiration had broken out all over her lovely 
body. She was ready. She was really ready. 

"Just remember, I'm the one doing you a favor by fucking you." 

Gripping his phallus, he guided it between her labia again, but this time 
probed with the head between her lips, opening them, finding the right niche 
between them, and then slowly, very slowly, he introduced his pulsating cock 
into her shuddering body. In, in, in, he went, and it felt as if he was 
sinking into syrup mixed with butter that had not completely melted. Her 
gooey interior surrounded the full length of his probing staff, sucking him 
deeper, and before he had a chance to control himself, he was all the way 
in. 

"Ahhhhhhh!" Rosalie sighed. "Oh yes, yes, yes, that's just what I want. " 

He began sliding back and forth, but Rosalie didn't want him to move slowly. 
Her buttocks began chattering back and forth like a riveter's hammer as she 
slammed her buttocks against his body with repeated power. Stroud clenched 
her hips tightly, and proceeded to pound into her with vicious ferocity, 
feeling the heat in her transmit itself to him. She was hotter than hell, 
and she deserved every last inch of cock he was able to constantly feed her. 
In and out, in and out, he slammed her so hard, she began moving forward. 
Each thrust brought her knees off the bed for an instant, and each time they 
came down they landed a little ahead of the spot where they had been, 
before. 

"That feels so good," she gasped. "Fuck me harder. Rand. Fuck me with all 
the strength in that fat, delicious cock of yours. Fuck and fuck and fuck!" 

"Why ... uhhhhhh ... don't you ... ohhhhh ... shut up and fuck!" he told 
her, grinding into her with enough power to jar her teeth loose. 

Rosalie no longer heard what he was saying. Her entire inner self was 
blazing with fire. She arched her back and rolled her tight vagina against 
the penetrating rod, thrilling to the way it filled and re-filled her 
tightly sucking cunt. There was no gentleness in the man this time, but this 
was one time Rosalie wasn't looking for gentleness. He was using his 
throbbing cock like the spear it resembled. It was a javelin of lust, not an 
instrument of love, and he hammered and battered at her body as if he had no 
thought for her pleasure; as if he was simply enslaving her, subduing her, 
ruling her. Rosalie discovered her body loved the man's roughness, even if 
her mind still had a glimmer of resistance in it. Her sensitive soul had 
been mortally offended by his treatment of her, but her throbbing body was 
literally glorying in the rough pounding it was receiving. This was the way 
a man ought to have fucked her right from the first night she had been 
penetrated. Had she been fucked this way, constantly, she would still be a 
loving wife, and happy to be a slave to the penis fucking her. He hammered 
and battered and pounded into her with beastly fury, and her physical self 
loved every last little bit of it. 

"More! More! More!" she heard her voice gasping. 

His answer was to reach forward and grasp her shoulders and then drive into 
her with the power of a diesel truck, beating at her until her body rose and 
fell with all the coordination of an unstrung marionette. He was fucking as 
he had never fucked a woman before giving her every last little bit of his 
energy. In and in and in he pounded, slamming into her as if the world was 
coming to an end and he had to reach his orgasm before everything blew 
apart. 

Rosalie ground her buttocks back against his pelvis as if intent on shoving 
her cheeks through his thighs. Her elbows dug more firmly into the bed and 
her head pressed into the pillow as she stared back between her dangling 
breasts, watching the way the throbbing masculine organ pounded into her 
again and again. The sight was every bit as thrilling as the sensations she 
was feeling and her body was aroused to greater heights than ever before. 
When she felt his penis rub against one wall more strongly than the other, 
she began rotating her hips as she slammed back and forth, and the clinging 
liquescent cove that was her cunt spun around his moving pole. 

"Where in the ... uuuuunnnnnnnhhhhhh ... name of ... uuuuunnnnhhhh ... did 
you learn to do ... ooohhhhhh ... that?" he gasped. His cock felt as if it 
was being crushed between the walls of a satin vise. 

Rosalie hated this position, and not because it was humiliating or 
degrading. She hated it because she was unable to reach him with her own 
hands. She wanted to grab the cheeks of his buttocks and sink her nails into 
them, and pull the man all the more deeply into her body. To compensate, she 
began slamming back against him with such force, her rump was lifting him up 
with each of his forward strokes. All the while her vagina continued 
revolving around the stem of the penetrating penis. 

Stroud was no longer in control of himself. For the first time since he was 
able to remember, he was going to come without making certain his female 
partner was satisfied first. He gasped, shuddering and pounding against her 
ass-cheeks as his hard cock reached into her and then he was beyond anything 
and anyone as the orgasm hit. 

" A A A A A A W WW WW WWA A A A A A 
AGGG-GGGGHHHHHHHRRRRRRRA-AAAAAAGGGGGGGGHHH-HHHHNNNNNGGGGHHHH!" 

Rosalie felt his throbbing organ swell even more inside her, and then it was 
spurting one blast of semen after another into her burning feminine 
cauldron. The spray reached epic proportions as he blasted into her again 
and again. 

Her own orgasm was there, and thank heaven his cock was still solid, even as 
he pumped it into her. She screeched and shrieked, heaving wildly beneath 
him, her ass-cheeks slamming into his body without any control whatsoever. 
Her burning vagina felt like a scorching trap of pure fire, and then the 
spasms hit her. 

' 'AAAAIIIIIIEEEEE ... YYYYYAAAAAIIIIIGGGGGGHHHHHH!! ! " she screamed, as 
she sobbed and pounded her head into the pillow beneath her. 

The orgasm lasted for what seemed like forever, and when it ended, both 
dropped to the bed, asleep, with him still inside her. 

 CHAPTER FIVE 

Stanley Bright considered himself to be better-looking than most men, and 
wondered why it was Rosalie Martin who shied away from him. The fact that he 
had tried getting the job of regional supervisor away from her wasn't 
something she ought to hold against him. This was the business all the time. 
Surely she understood that. 

What the hell! Even though it wasn't official, she was getting the job he'd 
coveted. Not that she didn't deserve it. Bright was smart enough to 
understand that. Deserving didn't make him want it any the less though. What 
the hell! The president of the company, who was moving up to chairman, was 
only a few years away from retirement. Maybe, just maybe, when he did 
retire, and Stroud, who was moving into the presidency now moved into the 
chairmanship, Rosalie would become president. That being the case, he would 
become regional supervisor ... he hoped. 

Still, it would be a damn shame to let a woman like Rosalie Martin get away 
without trying to score with her at least once. 

It was the following day, and everyone had been relaxing around the pool 
during the early afternoon. Rosalie looked fantastic in a bathing suit. He 
was certain she'd look even more fantastic without one. He had to find out. 

Stan Bright had a room across the hall from Rosalie's, and he went to said 
room now and took a long shower. It would do nothing to cool the heat raging 
through him; but it did temper his desire enough to keep it temporarily 
under control. 

Putting on a bathrobe, and nothing else, he left his room door open, 
listening. A few people passed, no one curious enough to look in. Then, 
while standing in the doorway, his hands in the pocket of his robe, he saw 
Rosalie coming down the hall carrying her bathrobe over her arm, looking 
fantastic in her gold bathing suit. 

"Well," he said, as she went to her door, "from the grapevine it looks like 
you have the supervisor's job sewn up." 

"I deserve it," she told him. 

"Actually, you do," he admitted, surprising her since she had always 
believed Stanley Bright to be something of an egotist. "Say, how 
about-coming in and having a drink with me. We can toast your new job." 

"Can I trust you?" 

"Of course not. I've always had the hots for you. But come on in, anyway." 

He saw she had washed all the suntan oil from her body when she had gone for 
a swim. Good! Oil would make her too slippery to handle. 

He turned and went into his room and Rosalie followed, and without thinking 
she shut the door behind her. Stroud had a bottle of Chevas Regal in his 
room, and he went and got the two bathroom tumblers, pouring an equal amount 
into each. He handed one to Rosalie, and they toasted to her new job, and 
drank. 

"When you move up, I hope you'll consider me to take your place," he said, 
when they'd finished their drinks. 

"Why not!" she shrugged. "From what I can see, next to me you're the best 
district representative around." 

They both had another drink, and Bright said, "You really are stacked, you 
know." 

"I think I'd better go," she said, putting the glass on a table and turning 
toward the door. 

"Not just yet," he insisted. "This is the first chance I've had to really be 
alone with you." 

Rosalie backed away from him as he reached a tanned hand out and gently 
caressed her throat. The pulse under his fingers jumped with panic, and she 
began to feel that sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach. She recalled 
what she had gone through with Rand Stroud the day before. She didn't want 
to go through all that again. The feelings of guilt that followed what had 
taken place had prevented her from getting a good night's sleep. Though Rand 
had claimed it was the fact that she had slept for almost four hours after 
their bout that prevented her from getting that good night's sleep. 

No matter what Stanley Bright said, she had to get out of here. As it was 
Rand Stroud was intent on making more demands on her body, and she simply 
wasn't in the mood to have to fight off a man like Stan Bright. 

She was brought back to the present as she realized Bright was standing 
against her, holding her tightly to him, his eyes boring deeply into her 
wide, brown orbs. His mouth was only inches from hers, and she was 
considering giving him a kiss just to get rid of him, when he whispered, 
"Come on. Rosalie. Just this once, let your hair down. Let's fuck!" 

"What? No ... absolutely not...". her eyes widened with horror and 
embarrassment, and she struggled, finally pulling away only to be yanked 
back by his hand around her throat. His mouth was suddenly covering her 
sensuous lips, and she continued struggling, trying her best to push him 
away. 

Bright was glorying in the feeling of her warm lips beneath his. At last, he 
had Rosalie Martin. His hand tightened even more on her throat, and his arm 
wrapped itself around her, brutally tugging him to her as his tongue pressed 
between her ripe lips into the hot cave of her mouth, tasting the Chevas she 
had only so recently swallowed. 

Not again, Rosalie thought. It simply mustn't start again. Not another man 
after what she had been through the past three days. How had this come to 
happen. It was the last day of the convention. Had she not walked into Stan 
Bright's room everything would have been fine. His hand continued holding 
her throat, and his hotly urgent tongue continued exploring her mouth. The 
arm around her was like a vise. Hell! The man was physically stronger than 
she. What was she going to do? 

A rush of warmly shivering anticipation shot through Stan from his groin 
straight up his spine to the back of his neck. Her mouth was like freshly 
mown grass on a summer's day. Her breasts were like twin noses pressing into 
his chest, curiously nuzzling his body. His hand slid from her bare throat 
down the front of her lovely body and cupped itself around a bikini covered 
breast. It felt like a great, sun-blossoming melon in need of a little 
biting and chewing. His other hand gripped one warmly round buttock as he 
insinuated a leg between her thighs, feeling her pelvis massage the head of 
his cock beneath his robe. 

Rosalie was straining and mumbling brokenly and incoherently into Stan 
Bright's mouth. She had to escape, no matter what. Moisture was already 
wetting her thighs, and it wasn't from the drying bathing suit she was 
wearing. Her breast's enlarged under the pressure of Stan's moving hand. 

"No, Stan, no..." her voice gutturally gasped. "Not if you want that job..." 
and she tore herself loose from him. He was blocking the way to the door, so 
she turned and headed for the bathroom. Just as she got inside, Bright 
leaped on her and the two of them went tumbling to the floor. He pinned her 
arms and hovered over her like a vampire about to suck her blood. 

"We're going to fuck!" he gasped. "I don't care about jobs or careers or 
anything at this point. I want your cunt, and that's just what I'm going to 
have. Make up your mind to the fact that you aren't leaving my bedroom until 
I unload my sperm inside you." He leaned down and bit the mound of her 
breast through the bathing top. 

"Please ... Stan ... n-o-o-o-o-o-o-o ... don't ... don't. . . " she 
screamed, feeling his hot mouth wet her swimsuit top all over again as his 
teeth sank into her covered flesh. Her nipple, like an obedient soldier, 
erectly popped out as she helplessly lay there on the tile floor. 

"I'll scream," she swore. "I'll scream and bring the entire hotel personnel. 
" 

"Go on and scream. By the time they get here, I'll have you naked and 
fucked, and they'll all be able to get a good look at that fabulous body. 
I'll bet your cunt is just great." 

"You're treating me like a common whore, " she gasped. "What have I done to 
you to deserve this?" 

"Put it down to jealousy over your getting a job I wanted," he smirked. "Now 
I can fuck you here, on the cold bathroom floor, or we can go inside on the 
bed. You choose." 

Rosalie was unable to reply. This was all a never-ending nightmare. Suddenly 
she was tired, so very tired. Let the stupid son of a bitch do whatever he 
wanted. 

She was pulled up by him, and he tugged her into the bedroom where his hands 
deftly undid the two parts of her bathing suit and tugged them from her 
body. 

"I swear I'll get you for this Stan. I swear it. The moment that penis of 
yours probes between my thighs you've had it. " 

Now that she was totally naked, Stan Bright wasn't worried about her 
suddenly running away. He looked at her full breasts, enjoying their 
nut-brown nipples, noting that in spite of the words she was spouting, her 
breast points were hard and elongated. His hands slid down and cupped the 
breasts, fondling them, caressing them, making the nipples even harder and 
longer. 

"I'll make a deal with you," he told her. "I'll keep my cock out of your 
cunt if you promise not to take advantage of your position as my superior." 

"You mean you'll let me go?" 

"I didn't say that," he insisted. "Honey, I've been waiting to get you naked 
for so long, if my life depended on it I wouldn't let you go. It's up to you 
whether you want to risk a pregnancy or not, at your age." 

Rosalie knew the odds were greatly against her becoming pregnant. Her 
husband had tried for years, and he hadn't succeeded. A check of his sperm 
count showed him to be excessively fertile, so it obviously hadn't been his 
fault. 

"Stan, this is wrong..." she began. 

"Cut the crap," he snapped, and he pulled off his bathrobe, revealing his 
nakedness to her. 

Stan Bright was hung like a stallion. He had a cock that looked to be a mile 
long and a yard wide. He pulled her nakedness to him, and Rosalie felt 
herself being crushed by his arms. Her mouth was captured and speared by his 
probing tongue, and the great, enormous beating sword rubbed into her 
quivering belly. Her naked breasts ground against his harsh, hair-covered 
chest that heaved muscularly. 

A moan tore itself from Stan Bright's mouth as he felt Rosalie's naked 
loveliness rubbing against him. He squeezed her breasts, his hands biting 
deeply into her white flesh. The man's cock felt as if it was in screaming 
agony. His balls were like leaden weights, hanging straight down, 
threatening to tear through his scrotum. He pushed her back against the 
brocade-covered bed, and Rosalie, frightened, sprawled back limply, knowing 
physical resistance was useless, and it was equally useless trying to talk 
this man out of it. 

Bright looked down to see one of her now-tanned legs trailing to the floor, 
the other thrown out on the bed, and a sparse triangle of brown hair was at 
the apex, outlining her lovely pink vagina in its proper frame. Her vaginal 
lips were slightly apart, seeping a faint oil that gleamed brightly on her 
quivering labia. The pink flesh was swollen and pulsing, and if Rosalie, 
herself, was refusing him, her body wasn't. He threw himself on that 
open-doored cloister, his hands catching her smooth hips, his hungry mouth 
clamped on the spot. 

"Ohhhhhh ... no ... no ... no ... don't do that..." she gasped, remembering 
how out-of-control she had gotten when Rand Stroud had first done this to 
her. His heated, searing breath and his rubbery lips against her wide-open 
pussy made her quiver and tremble. His tongue was spearing straight in, and 
he was kissing her vaginal lips as if they were oral lips. In and out they 
lanced through her quivering cunt, and her body was already starting to buck 
in response as she realized she had lost all immunity to this. 

'Wo more ... no more ... no more..." she gasped. "Aaaaaiiiiieeeee ... 
hhhhuuuuunnnnnnhhhhhh ... n-o-o-o-o-o..."she gasped, as she felt his wetly 
slithering dragon's tongue sink deep into her wetly creaming depths, sending 
the flamingly desiring, lightning-like bolts through her defenseless body. 
She trembled with wild sensation as his mouth made her flesh even weaker. 
Helpless tears poured again from her wet eyes, and she shook as if electric 
current was constantly zigzagging through her. 

Bright drank the all-too-real womanly juices that poured from her flushed 
feminine orifice, and he all but chewed on her coral flesh it was so tasty 
and melting. He drew his tongue back and rubbed it over her clitoris before 
stabbing it into her in darting flashes, feeling his bulging cock rub 
against the bed, going insane. 

"Rosie ... ummmmmm ... Rosalie ... ummmmmmmm..." he gasped, crawling up from 
the floor where he had been kneeling, moving onto the wide bed, pushing her 
lovely thighs even more widely apart as he rammed his head between them even 
more deeply. The pulsing folds of her viscous vagina lay before his 
wide-open eyes and hungry mouth. He'd never get enough of this tasty pussy. 

The pink target, sloshing with her flooded juices, lay before him, and he 
flattened his tongue and began rubbing up and down, up and down against her 
enlarged clitoris. He pulled her miniature feminine imitation of a penis 
between his lips as his heavy hands braced her thighs, forcing them wider 
apart so he was able to enjoy the sight of her beautifully pulsating 
feminine sepulchre. Everything between her lovely white inner thighs was 
completely exposed, right down to the brown flower of her puckered anus. 

"Ohhhhhhhh ... hhhhhhuuuuuuuunnnn-nnnnhhhhhhh ... no more ... no more..." 
she continued gasping, writhing and wriggling, doing her best to muster 
inner resistance against what the man was doing. The alien tongue of an 
alien man probed ever more deeply into her trembling slash. She screamed to 
fight off the sensations of lustful lascivity that were rapidly building 
higher and higher in her. 

Rosalie lay there, wondering if she was ever to be set free from the 
tormenting demon of lust that invaded her each time she was forcibly 
attacked. Other women were able to feel nothing from their attackers. Why 
then did she feel so overpowered and filled with lustful desire. 

Stan Bright licked continually with his tongue, tormenting her tiny, highly 
sensitive clitoris unmercifully, swirling his tongue around it in fevered 
circles-tasting the heated nectar continually pouring out of her as her 
slickened lubrications became heavier and heavier. He drank the pungent 
fluid, savoring the flavor, enjoying it immensely. His lips clamped tightly 
around the tiny organ, and he pulled so hard, her body shivered as she 
feared he might actually snip it from her. All the while his massive penis 
stabbed into the brocaded bedspread, oozing colorless droplets of its own 
oil. 

"Staaaaaaaaannnnnnnnnleeeeeeey ... " Rosalie gasped. "No more ... no more 
... no more ... can't stand ittttt. . . " she told him, but he continued 
licking. Her voice was hoarse and rasping, otherwise she truly would have 
been screaming. Jolt after wicked jolt of licentiously thrilling rapture 
blissfully ricocheted through her trembling body as she whimpered and moaned 
and gasped, feeling him insanely suck on the very essence that was herself. 
Though she knew this was all wrong, she felt she might faint from the sheer 
joy of what was happening. Her head was now totally drained of thought, and 
all that mattered was the voracious tongue guiding her instinctively down 
the pathway of licentious desire. Her hips were thrusting up now, arching, 
and her rounded loins were quivering and straining against the 
pleasure-giving, enchanted mouth. Once more she was a slave to her feelings. 
Once again she was under the control of her body, and Rosalie realized that 
if she felt this way with Stan Bright, then it didn't require any special 
man to arouse her. She wasn't in love with any man, but rather with the sex 
itself. 

Bright continued lapping, feeling the way she responded, knowing there was 
no way this woman was going to louse him up in the business world. 

Hell! If he gave her enough pleasure, she just might come back for more. He 
was the one to give it to her, too. He was already envisioning a delightful 
relationship blossoming between the two of them, but he had to make sure she 
was as willing to give as she was to receive. His hungering teeth bit 
repeatedly into her sensitive flesh, as he nibbled and sucked on her 
clitoris. She was spewing out so much oil, it had turned into a white froth. 

"Ohhhhhhh ... gggguuuuuuunnnn-gggggghhhhhh ... no more ... no more..." she 
pleaded, but Bright knew damn well she meant she wanted one helluva lot 
more. 

The high ceiling with its soundproofed panels seemed to melt before Rosalie 
Martin's glazed eyes. Her vision blurred until she was almost sightless, and 
the flame between her thighs grew in intensity, until she was certain she 
would be totally consumed. Inadvertently, she raised her legs and clamped 
them tightly around the head of the man sucking her wet pussy-that worldly 
head that seemed to know just what to do and when to do it. 

My dear Lord! she thought to herself. I'm more depraved than any of the 
women I used to accuse of being whores. I love this. I want him to shove all 
his meat into me. 

Bright felt her long, slender thighs close tightly around his bobbing head 
as he slipped his hands under the rounded orbs of her bouncy ass-cheeks. 

Lifting the meaty, pink slippery flesh of her soft vagina to his hungering 
mouth, he sucked hard at the juicy opening. The soft brown curls of her 
pelvic hair tickled his cheeks tinglingly, and he had to admit he had never 
tasted a cunt quite this good. 

Catching his breath, he decided it was time to tickle her anal crinkle as 
well, and he stabbed his tongue directly into it, opening the tight, 
bud-like orifice. The tiny nether opening didn't resist for an instant, 
opening wide to accept his tongue. Her body, having undergone this treatment 
with Rand Stroud, was prepared for it, even if her mind wasn't quite ready. 

"Eeeeeyyyyyyuuuuuggggghhhhh ... hhhhaaaaannnnnnhhhhh ... ohhhhhhh ... 
ggggggaaaaahhhhhnnnnnggggghhhhhh ... uuunnnnggghhh ... uuuuunnnnnnhhhh..." 
she bellowed, her hoarse, croaking screams becoming more numerous. 

The horrible noises seemed not to come from her own mouth, and yet there was 
no other place from which they would have been able to emerge. Her breasts 
heaved up and down as she gasped for air, panting and crying. The incredible 
sensation of Stan Bright's tongue in her rectum was driving her wild. She' 
knew the man had to be insane. He was just as bad as Stroud. What was it 
with these men who compulsively had to tongue her rectum? 

Bright sucked and licked her rectum solidly with his lancing tongue, and she 
wriggled right and left until she was ready to roll right off the bed. The 
man had never seen a woman so sensitive. Sure, most of them went ape when he 
performed analingus on them, but this one was wildly spinning as if she were 
a human top. He returned his tongue to her vagina, while pressing his finger 
into her just-tongued anus, and then, without warning, he spun around on the 
bed so that he was on the bottom, and he pulled Rosalie on top of him, but 
his body was now sprawled the length of hers, with his head still between 
her thighs, and his thighs ready to surround her head. His tongue continued 
sinking into her delectable pussy as she lay over him, her ass widely 
spread. He stopped licking for a moment and moved his face from beneath her 
loins, saying, "C'mon, Rosalie. Tit for tat. Take my cock in your mouth and 
suck it, honey. Come on and put your lips around it while I continue sucking 
your pussy. Come on, do it." 

Rosalie didn't want to do it. The horse cock beneath her face would surely 
strangle her, and yet her body was so heatedly aroused, she knew there was 
no way for her to resist it. Hating herself for having such weak flesh, she 
stared at the great, blood-bloated penis road mapped with a series of lacy 
veins. It was a massively pulsating spike that gleamed because of the oily 
tears secreted by its single weeping sightless eye. Now it was directly 
below her face. She saw how formidable it appeared, a fleshy mangonel 
springing out from a hedge of brown hair, jutting forward like a bloated 
battering ram. It pulsated and twitched, jerkingly under her stare. The 
wrinkled sac of testicles lay beneath, and the balls within seemed to be 
floating around while bloated with the semen she would be expected to 
swallow. Semen! She remembered how it tasted, and her salivary glands 
started working overtime. Yes, yes, that was just what she needed. 

Almost eagerly she opened her lips, her mind still whirling as she wrapped 
her slim, tanned fingers around the broad shaft of the huge organ. Then she 
lowered her head and took the engorged penis into the wet, warm shelter of 
her sucking mouth and tasted the delicious salty tang he was emitting that 
seeped like honey from the tiny slit in his glans. Her lapping tongue now 
knew instinctively what to do, and it wrapped itself around the 
mushroom-shaped cap, catching every little droplet that stickily seeped from 
within. It seemed to want whatever it was able to get. Bright was already 
moaning and groaning, not really expecting she would have acceded so easily. 
Now that she had done so, she had proven herself a veritable succubus. 

"Ohhhhhhhh ... wowwwwwwww ... yesssssssssss ... 
hhhhhhuuuuuuuuuu-nnnnnnnnhhhhhh ... that's the wayyyyyyyyy ... 
ooooooooohhhhhhhh ... you're unbelievable ... ohhhhhhhhhh ... Rosalieeeeeeee 
... you're fantastic..." 

She sucked hungrily on the thick head of his probing penis, her slender 
fingers gripping the base all the more firmly to keep it steady, and then 
Bright's moans were muffled as he jammed his face into the aching void that 
was her tight pussy, licking lustily. This was what was elegantly known as 
soixante-neuf, a imagine French description for the number sixty-nine. He 
was sucking the drippings from her vagina while her mouth clamped itself to 
his cock, her tongue lovingly laving it up and down. Her mouth worked again 
and again, and little by little she began to realize there simply was 
nothing perverted in all this. It was her damned stupid husband and his 
inability to bring anything across to her that had caused her to be so 
uptight where sex was concerned. Well, never again, though from this time 
forth she intended having relationships with men she wanted, and not men who 
wanted her. 

Bright used his tongue to literally scour her vaginal lobes, savoring the 
flowing meat that continually filled his own oral cavern as it poured from 
deep within her body, as her straining wall muscles attempted to pull his 
tongue out by the roots. He went to work with a blissful vengeance, feeling 
unbelievable himself as Rosalie's mouth tightly sucked the full length of 
his throbbing cock repeatedly. She was the wildest, hottest woman he had 
ever known, and to think they worked so close to one another. He definitely 
had to become more friendly with her, even if she was his superior now ... 
or soon would be. That wonderful prudish face had its mouth clogged with his 
cock, and the mere thought sent shivering delights bursting through Stan 
Bright. Imagine, her fully ripe lips were contorted around his penile stalk. 
Feeling it as he did, his mind made pictures of what it had to look like. 

Rosalie's head started dipping lower over the man's almost bursting organ, 
and each time her nodding head lifted itself, her tongue licked into the 
tiny slit in his glans as if trying to pull out more seepage. He shuddered 
and shivered, thrilling to the feel of her wonderful mouth. A muffled groan 
tore from his chest and he bellowed into the pink cave of her womanly 
opening, his ass bouncing on the bed as he drove upward, trying to clog her 
mouth with more of himself. This only served to make his own mouth sink even 
further into the steamy recesses of her slavering cunt as she frantically 
ground her pussylips against his mouth. He listened with thrills to the 
moist, sucking sounds she was making as she pulled with her tight lips on 
his throbbing penis. The vibrant sounds mingled with the loud noises his own 
mouth was making that filled the room. Had the window been open, sounds of 
their sucking would have carried out to the pool area, a good hundred feet 
away from them. 

Rosalie moaned with unrestrained abandon as she continued sucking on the 
huge log of flesh trying to now press its way into her throat. She gasped 
repeatedly as she felt Stan Bright's hungering mouth tear into the tenderly 
pink flesh of her insatiable pussy. Her hands reached out over Stan's hairy 
thighs and then slid back to fill themselves with his doughy scrotum. She 
cupped his balls with gentle tenderness, holding them as if they were 
delicate pearls of tremendous value that would shatter if dropped. 
Straining, she pushed her head even lower, forcing the head of his pulsating 
cock into her throat. She almost swallowed the entire length of his rocky 
phallus now, feeling the way it jerked with wild rapture beneath the 
ministrations of her tongue and lips. The mighty organ was pumping between 
her bloated cheeks as it threatened to bury itself up to the dark brown 
pubic hair in her choking, gagging mouth. 

Caressing his heavy testicles, but not wanting him to come just yet, Rosalie 
lifted her head from the penil length and began tonguing it all around. Then 
she leaned down and began licking his hairy, wrinkled sac, making the balls 
jump up and down like a pair of huge Mexican jumping beans. Her tongue 
coated his cock with saliva, sweeping up and down the length of it again and 
again, listening to Stan Bright cry out his anguish for more, his mouth 
bellowing into the tight depths of her pussy as he continued sucking. Her 
saliva was dribbling freely down the entire length of the solidly upstanding 
cock. She began sucking hard, pulling his penile head deep into her tight 
throat, feeling the way Stan Bright sank his tongue to the limit in her 
burning feminine oven. 

Panting heavily, Bright tugged his head back far enough to blow some cool 
air into her dribbling vaginal concavity as it uncontrollably dripped some 
more of its juices onto his face. His hands gripped her rounded, white 
ass-cheeks and he pulled her even more firmly against her, pressing her slit 
against his nose and mouth. The wet brown vaginal hairs tickled his nose and 
cheeks. He heard an agonized gasp as her mouth closed even more tightly 
around his throbbing phallus. Frenziedly now, she began tenderly teething 
his penis, closing her lips all the more tightly around the throbbing and 
pulsating organ. Her buttocks churned wildly in the clutch of his gripping 
hands, her vagina pressing even more firmly against his sucking face. He 
wickedly thrust his tongue into the pink folds of her seething volcano, 
probing, stabbing, jabbing, using it like a penis to fuck as best it could 
as she moaned and sighed, continuing to give complete oral attention to his 
throbbing cock. She was magnificent. 

Rosalie viciously clung to Stan Bright's face with her thighs, pressing her 
soft, warm flesh into his countenance until it rubbed up and down. Her 
vagina tried clinging to his oral organ, wanting to clench it and pull it so 
far into her he would never get it back. Her inner muscles had become bands 
of steel. 

Rosalie realized she was close to her own orgasm, and this time she intended 
coming with that tongue jammed down her throat. She was going to give him a 
face full of lubrication. 

The muscles in her back were ridging as her mouth continued to savagely pull 
on his cock with ever-increasing tugs of her hungrily greedy lips. His 
tongue slashed up and down like a sharp knife, as if tearing into her softly 
wet flesh. He wasn't able to breathe any longer with her wet flesh clamped 
around his nose and mouth, but he didn't give a damn. If he had to die, it 
was better to die this way. 

His tongue once again flatly lapped back and forth over her hard, throbbing 
little clitoris, and she was insanely wriggling as the thrills continued 
mounting inside her. Her hands clamped together around the clump that was 
his testicles as she forced her ripe lips down that last final inch, jamming 
that last bit of cock into her gagging throat. The glans were pushing past 
her tonsils, and still she sucked, wanting more and more of it. She was 
coughing and choking, and he heard her, and for her own sake he wanted to 
pull part of his cock from her mouth, but her fingernails sinking deep into 
his ass-cheeks prevented him from moving back as she greedily slurped and 
gagged, moaning with lust as she wanted more. If possible, she wanted the 
penis crammed all the way into her aching belly. Bright's heated breath was 
spewing in little grunts inside her shivering cunt, and the fleshy folds 
muffled the noise completely. His tongue continued lapping against her 
little clitoral button of desire while her entire body churned and lurched 
and swayed, grinding itself licentiously down against his working mouth, as 
her buttocks frantically twisted in a whirling rotation she had never before 
known her body was capable of performing. 

Bright pried her thighs even wider apart, tugging on her ass-cheeks, pulling 
and straining them almost to the tearing point, his tongue lapping and 
licking everywhere, scouring her vagina and reaming her anal depths as well. 
It was everywhere at once, delving into her rectum, massaging her clitoris, 
dipping into her tight vagina, even licking the roundness of her lovely 
white ass-cheeks. His face buried itself in pink, wet folds as he stabbed 
solidly into her with his tongue. It lanced deeper and deeper, and her 
muscles within, like bands of steel, clutched the tongue, trying their best 
to keep it from retreating. 

The power of his tongue was becoming too much for Rosalie. Her orgasm was 
upon her, and she gargled with the phallus clogging her throat as her entire 
body stiffened, and she gasped, "A A A A WWWWWWPHHHHH-H A A A 
UUUUUUGGGGGHHH- 

HHAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHHH!" She was coming, coming, coming, and the thought 
burst through her brain like a loud explosion. Somehow, with her mouth 
wrapped around the man's cock, her orgasm felt more intense than ever. 

Her gasping cries hung in the room as she choked and gurgled, the sound 
filling Stan Bright's burning ears as he felt her mouth cling to his organ 
all the more passionately, now, sucking with all the verve and power of a 
huge leech. Her rounded buttocks were gyrating and twisting, and the 
powerful eruption of her bursting climax twisted his tongue where it was 
deeply buried in her flaming abyss of delight. 

Bright was no longer able to hold back. The maddening charge of semen along 
the narrowly constricted tube inside his pulsing penis was a tumutuous 
explosive surprise to him as well. Suddenly his orgasmic gates were flung 
wide and the heavy flood was released. It roared in a blinding torrent 
through his shuddering cock with the speed and screaming joy of an express 
train down a straight, long, downhill pathway. The sound in the man's ears 
was deafening, but there was no stopping anything now. He was pouring his 
heavily boiling load of sperm into her anxiously awaiting mouth and throat. 

"HHHHH UUUUUU UMMMMMMPHHHHHH-AAAAARRRRRRRGGGGGH-HHHHHAAAAGGGGGHHHH!" the man 
bellowed into the depths of the vagina he had just licked dry. His voice was 
gurgling again and again into her exploded pussy, and Rosalie feeling the 
hot jets hit her throat, understood precisely what was happening in the man, 
and her mouth licked and pulled and sucked. She swallowed frantically, 
drinking all his heated spurts as they came out of him, choking on the 
thickness of his heavy flesh, and loving it. Her head slammed all the way 
down, and her mouth engulfed every last bit of hard cock as the molten drops 
continued hurtling into her throat where she was able to swallow everything 
into the pit of her waiting belly. 

Rosalie groaned, her head bobbing feverishly up and down as she sucked the 
shooting jets of lava without spilling it back down the length of the 
pulsing penis. The torrents washed her mouth and her throat as she lurched 
and ground her aching, expanding, slurping vagina against the man's 
still-working and wonderful tongue as his lips continued their blissful 
sucking, and skyrockets continued going off in her head. To be able to drink 
his flow as he continued swallowing her own rapturous pooling was something 
fantastic. She might not have had feelings for Stan Bright per se, but his 
cock, now softening ... well, that was something else again. It was the end 
of the whole world ... for a little while. She felt as if she was 
disintegrating into a trillion tiny molecules of rapture that would whirl 
into outer space forever and ever. Nothing mattered except this wonderful 
eternity that had been created between each other's thighs. 

Outside, water splashed in the now-empty pool, and the sun began sinking 
lower and lower on the horizon. The day was fast coming to a close, and the 
biggest night of Rosalie's life was coming up. She had to get herself ready 
for it. 

Reluctantly, she rolled away from Stan Bright, and as she gained her feet, 
looking down at the smirk on the now-sleeping Bright, she tried feeling 
disgust, but found it impossible. How could one hate a man for wanting her 
so much he was willing to risk the loss of his own job to possess her? 

 CHAPTER SIX 

The grand ballroom of the Queen's Tavern held more than five-hundred members 
of the Residential Insurance Company that night. There was steak for a 
change, and almost every woman there seemed to have a sequined dress that 
glittered when the lights bounced off it. 

Rosalie was one of the few exceptions. She wore a gold cocktail gown, and 
the glow emanating from her had nothing to do with sequins. She was seated 
at one of the front tables with Rand Stroud. The only trouble was, Stan 
Bright had merely whetted her appetite for more, though this was something 
she would admit to no one. Her body was not to be abused by any male for the 
asking. Even now, little twinges of conscience continued eating away at her, 
telling her she was wrong, all wrong for having allowed all these things to 
happen to her. 

When she told herself that she hadn't actually allowed it, her conscience 
insisted that had she really wanted to get out of it, she would have been 
able to do so, without any problem. 

"You're looking especially good tonight," Stroud said to her. "Tell me, will 
our agreement still hold once you've officially been designated regional 
supervisor?" 

"Must you bring that up at a time like this?" she asked. 

"Of course." 

"Yes," she sighed, her voice sounding a lot more reluctant than her body 
felt. "I gave my word. I'll keep it." 

"I can see where we're going to have many good times together, honey. I'm 
looking forward to them. Hey, look, the awards are about to start." 

For the next two hours a multitude of awards were handed out to the 
different salesmen who had achieved prominence. There were those who were so 
content with their jobs as salesmen, they had no desires for company 
promotions. Some were natural rebels and followed the company rules, but 
didn't want to become executives, and thereby subject to even more rules and 
regulations. 

A special quarter of an hour was devoted to the company's most successful 
salesman, a man who had the knack for selling insurance to big businesses 
and corporations. Then it was Rosalie's turn, and the official announcement 
for which she had been waiting finally was made public. She was now regional 
supervisor. The next announcement let everyone know that Rand Stroud was 
being made president of Residential, and he would move to the main office. 
The president was then congratulated on being moved up to the chairmanship 
of the company, and the chairman was given a half-hour plaudit by everyone, 
congratulating him on what a fine job he had done. He would be given a 
pension of a hundred-and-fifty-thousand dollars a year, and would therefore 
have to temper his lifestyle. Everyone laughed. 

Finally the awards were over, and Rosalie decided to slip away before Rand 
Stroud suddenly got it into his head to give her a congratulatory fuck. She 
had enjoyed everything, but now she wanted some moments to herself. 

Rosalie hurried back to her room, but when she got there she had a surprise 
waiting. Somehow, and she'd never know just how, Stan Bright had enjoyed a 
talk with the retiring chairman, Harry Norton, and they had discovered they 
had one thing in common. That one thing was Rosalie. Norton had so enjoyed 
the blowjob she had given him, he decided that with Bright's help he wanted 
to enjoy her one more time. Hell! He was still chairman until midnight. Stan 
Bright's presence would let Rosalie know of the power he still held, as if 
to say he might still reverse his decision and give the job to Bright if she 
didn't come across. 

"Gentlemen," she nodded, leaning against the door she had just closed. "I'm 
curious to know how you got into my room. " 

"We bribed the girl who was turning down all the beds," Bright replied. "No 
problem." 

Rosalie felt her blood turn to ice. She shut her eyes tightly, hoping 
against hope all this was just a horrible dream and nothing more. Harry 
Norton was on his feet and standing in front of her, his clammy claws on her 
breasts again, saying, "You have such lovely breasts, my dear." She opened 
her eyes and focused them on the man's broadly grinning face. His white hair 
was a little disheveled, as if he'd had a bit too much to drink. 

"What do you want?" she asked. 

"Need you ask?" Bright said. "We came here to congratulate you. We think a 
good, solid fuck is now in order. " 

"No, no," Rosalie gasped, recoiling and moving into the room, trying to get 
away from the two men. She tripped over a lump in the carpet just as she 
approached the bed, and she fell, half on and half off the bed. 

"Let's get right to it," the drunken Norton slurred. "Take off your clothes, 
my dear. Let's see if you can raise another erection for me." 

It was a direct order. Did she dare to disobey? She fumbled, completely 
silent for the moment, unable to speak because of the humiliation she felt. 

She wanted to scream, but one scream might still wipe everything out. 

A knock at the door made her heart jump. Maybe there was a chance for her to 
get out of this. Stan Bright motioned for her to be silent, and he nodded at 
Harry Norton and went to the door. Opening it just enough to step outside, 
shutting it behind him, making sure he'd be able to open it by himself 
again. 

Harry Norton reached out to her prostrate figure and he helped her up. Then 
he proceeded to undo her dress from behind, and he all but tugged it off 
her. Rosalie, knowing better than to shout, let it all happen. He took the 
time to kneel and remove her stockings, and then undid her brassiere. Now 
she was clad in panties, a garter belt, and nothing else. 

"You look more beautiful each time I see you," Norton told her. "This is a 
bonus for me. I really never expected to be with you again. I have Mr. 
Bright to thank for the suggestion. I've already told the incoming chairman 
to make him your assistant, thus assuring his promotion when you're promoted 
again ... and you will be." 

He was unbuttoning his own shirt, now, having already removed his jacket. 
She knew what was coming next and sat on the bed, quivering with inner rage 
and anger. She was being used again, and this time there was almost no 
reason for it. Almost. That was the key word. So Stan Bright was being made 
assistant supervisor, eh. Well she'd make him work his damn behind off. 

Rosalie shut her eyes so tightly, sparklers of light appeared before her in 
the darkness of her fear. Tears welled up in her closed eyes. She had been 
elated, happy, returning from the ceremonies, convinced all her whoring was 
over. But no! This old roue had to drag it out to the very last second. She 
hoped he could raise an erection long enough to fuck her this time. She also 
hoped he'd suffer a stroke doing so. 

Rosalie shivered at his touch, feeling dirty and wrong, thinking of herself 
as some kind of slave rather than a person now wielding power. She wondered 
if this was the first time the old man had pulled something like this, or 
had he raped a multitude of other women after promoting them? One thing was 
sure, and that was, no other female had ever reached a position this high in 
the company before. It was horrible being a pawn in a game of corporate 
politics. 

He was parting her legs now, spreading them wide, and she gasped, knowing 
she was about to be invaded. She flinched in spite of herself as he tugged 
down her panties, leaving her with the garter belt, though without stocking. 
Then his fingers parted the softness of her pubic hair and touched her 
vaginal lips. She felt nothing at the moment. He was going to lick her just 
as Stroud and Stan Bright had done, but this time all she felt was a 
numbness. Feeling seemed to leave her body completely. 

She realized she was starting to finally gain a modicum of control over her 
body. It was her mind that was causing the numbness to shudder through her. 
At last, she was going to conquer her body. Then his tongue touched her 
clitoris. He put his old, wrinkled lips on it and began sucking it as if it 
were a very tiny penis. Rosalie's body stiffened as she felt the unwelcome 
sensations of desire returning to her. His tongue began worming its way 
inside her jellied pussy, and it was as if he had thrust an electric cattle 
prod into her. She jumped, trying to slide away from him. Then the slow, 
rhythmically tantalizing licking with which she was becoming familiar began 
all over again. She flexed the corded muscles along her inner thighs in an 
attempt to make the unwanted feeling disappear again. Instead, it added to 
the enjoyment she was feeling. With the tautening of her loins, Harry Norton 
went back to the licking of her tiny, upstanding, pulsating clitoris. 

"You're such a lovely woman, Rosalie. You make me feel twenty, no, thirty 
years younger." 

Rosalie began moaning and gasping, but mingled with her guttural groans were 
sobs as she realized what these sensations were implying. Damn! Damn! Damn! 
This shouldn't be happening to her. The nerves in her vagina were betraying 
her again as they would always betray her. It was one thing to be raped by 
Rand Stroud, and she even understood how she fell under the spell of Stanley 
Bright's tongue. But this ... to feel aroused when a horrible old man was 
licking her down there ... this was something entirely different. Her body 
knew no age, knew no race, knew no creed. All it knew was a tongue and a 
cock. This apparently, was all it wanted to know. 

In spite of her revulsion at the knowledge that she was responding all over 
again, her abdomen rose and fell with increasing rapidity as the old man 
continued stroking long and hard with his eeling tongue, using his nose to 
buffet her clitoris as his cheeks rubbed the outer lips of her widely spread 
vagina. Once more she was a slave to her body and the emotions running 
through it. Once again she began the constant secretion of oily lubrication, 
but it wasn't until she discovered her rounded pelvis grinding into the old 
man's face, that she accepted the fact that sex was something from which she 
would never escape. She had lost again. She would always lose. Love might be 
a wonderful thing, but she had known love for a short while with her husband 
without enjoying sex. Now she was knowing sex without the benefit of love, 
and the latter was infinitely superior, whether she liked it or not. Her 
wantonly aroused torso was independently writhing and wriggling as the 
chairman's mouth enclosed her entire labial area. He began sucking at her 
slit like one would pull juice from a cut in an orange. Thrillingly 
exquisite sensations blasted across her loins into tantalizingly aroused 
nerve-endings attached to the entrance to her vaginal cave. The old man's 
drooling, dribbling mouth kept its lips tightly clamped except when his 
tongue pressured its way through the compressed tightness of her own cuntal 
labia. Rosalie writhed, losing total control over her inner reactions. 

She began to reach that ultimate point of no return. She was going to have 
an orgasm all over again; her second one that night from a mouth. She fought 
it, screaming in her head that she didn't want it, but inner muscles, 
nerves, and reflexes all joined to rebel against the discipline her brain 
was trying to impose. Her body ached for sweet release and would have it. 
Her pelvis was violently jerking up and down, and her hands, now locked 
behind his head, were trying to pull his leathery face all the way into her 
heatedly tingling vagina, and a voice she was unable to control came from 
between her lips, gasping, "I'm ... uhhhhh ... commmmmiiinnnnggg 
CCCCCCOMMMMMMIIIIINNNNNN NG-GGGGGUUUUUUHHHHH ... AAAAANNNNNNNHHHHHHHH ... 
MORRRRRE" 

She was almost unconscious from the arousing combination of lust and desire, 
mingled with shame and embarrassment, and she was ready to drift off to 
sleep when the old man released her. 

He got to his feet and wildly pulled his pants down, kicking off his shoes 
and tugging his trousers and undershorts off. 

"I don't know if I can do it," he gasped, "but by heaven I'm certainly going 
to try and fuck you. Rosalie, I haven't felt this aroused since I can't 
remember when, and I have you to thank for it. Before I leave, I'm going to 
recommend an annual increase in your salary of ten-thousand dollars. You're 
worth every bit of it." 

She attempted to shut her thighs, but he was already between them, and the 
motion only caused him to move closer to her, arousing him even more. He 
pushed forward, and his penis slid delectably into her. For an old man he 
did have a big cock. She had realized it the day she had stuffed it into her 
mouth, but now, feeling it in her cunt, she was able to accurately gauge its 
length and thickness. He was plugging a hot, fleshy Sequoia log into her. 

"Like it?" the old man asked, already preparing to pull back a little. The 
withdrawal motion spread her tight thighs a little more, stretching her 
elasticized walls. 

"UUuuuuuuunnnnnnhhhhhh!" was her only reply. Her dilated vagina hadn't had a 
chance to shrink since her orgasm, and it was a good thing. Had her inner 
membranes contracted, he would have torn her flesh fitting himself into her. 
A constant jab brought her out of the half-conscious state into which she 
had fallen,, and she was writhing, hoarsely gasping, and would have been 
screaming for help had it been someone with less power over her. He began 
rapidly fucking in and out, pounding back and forth, and Rosalie opened her 
eyes to see the old man's crinkly smile, as he was convinced she was 
enjoying all this every bit as much as he. His cock remained hard in her 
vaginal crater, and for this, the old man was grateful. 

Her vagina was contracting now, and as a result felt as if it was being 
stretched by six penises inside at once. Her flesh felt ready to tear. His 
penis lay throbbing, sunk deep in her belly, so thick it filled every bit of 
space in her cavity. 

Harry Norton was still smiling as he continually flexed his thick organ in 
her tight pussy. He felt like a young man all over again. He didn't even 
need Stan Bright anymore. He idly speculated that Bright had left the room 
some time earlier, and he wondered just what had happened to the man. Not 
that he really cared. He was simply curious. 

His mind immediately got off the subject of Stan Bright and back to the 
matter at hand. His cock was feeling good, and it was stiffer than it had 
been since he was able to remember. He flexed it deep in her seething pussy, 
and she felt it jerk up against her cervix. 

"Aaaaaannnnnnggggghhhhh!" she grunted, her face contorted and lined with 
pain. 

She kept her stomach muscles as tight as possible, hoping to create some 
kind of intolerable pressure, forcing his cock to soften and slide out of 
her. The pressure only served to harden his penis even more, if such a thing 
were possible. 

Slowly, the old man began pulling his stone-stiff cock from the depths of 
her tight vaginal scabbard until it was two-thirds the way out, then even 
more slowly he inched it into her. Very slowly he once again pulled it out, 
then oozed it in. He kept this up for a good three minutes, and was elated 
to find there was not the least little sign of softening in his aching cock. 

"Ohhhhhh ... you're ... uhhhhh ... too thick. . . " Rosalie told him, hoping 
to make him pull out. She was willing to do anything at this point to stop 
the ordeal her vagina was feeling from the stretching of his thick penis. 
Her own body laughed at her, knowing that even though her membranes were 
being stretched, there was no real pain. She was playing the hypocrite, 
wanting to make the old man feel really good. His slow, salacious movements 
were becoming more and more enjoyable with every passing stroke. 

Harry Norton continued sliding his penis back and forth in slow motion, and 
the rubbing between her wet tissues created a sucking noise as the organ 
wetly slipped in and out of her fully distended pussy. The sucking sounds in 
her ears added to the forbidden excitement she felt coursing through her 
betraying body. 

"So you like old Harry's cock, eh," the chairman grunted, still smiling, 
continually stroking. 

Yes, she liked old Harry's cock, just as she had liked Rand Stroud's coqk, 
and just as she had enjoyed sucking on Stanley Bright's cock. She loved all 
cocks and decided the time had come for her to stop living a lie. Inwardly 
she was a whore, so she might as well accept it. It was something she was 
able to live with since she wasn't backstabbing anyone or hurting anyone. 
Men used words like whore and tramp on women who used their cunts, looking 
down at them disdainfully, while at the same time they thought nothing of 
hurting a business competitor, even to the point of completely ruining him. 
In other words, it was all right to screw someone in business, but if a 
woman literally screwed, then she was the tramp. This man's world had to 
change, and she was just the one to help change it, once she became the 
president at Residential. 

She gritted her teeth tightly together when she felt the delicious warmth 
invade her body. The old man's thick penis twitched again, and she felt her 
own inner cunt muscles involuntarily responding, sucking inward, and this 
brought a smile to Norton's leathery face. 

Hell! Why should the old man enjoy himself so much? He had believed himself 
to be causing her a little discomfort before, and he had gone right on 
fucking her. Son of a bitch! Here was a man with no morals or scruples. 
She'd be damned if she'd willingly give him more pleasure. Let him be 
content with what he was doing now. So she fought with every bit of 
willpower to keep from doing it again. In her struggles to ward him off she 
hadn't been conscious of doing it the first time. She wasn't certain just 
how her body had done it against her will. Just don't let the damn 
contraction happen again. 

She managed to control herself for all of fifteen seconds, and then the next 
contraction came. She had no idea how it happened, but when it did, the man 
groaned with pleasure, and it made her hate herself all the more since he 
was unable to fight back in anyway. She was always the one who had to give 
in. She was the one who had to follow manmade rules. Damn! Damn! Damn! But 
the contractions happened again ... and again ... and again. Her vagina had 
suddenly turned into an electric milking machine, pulling, tugging, sucking, 
slurping, and the muscles therein were far stronger than anything between 
her jaws. The old man had a look of sheer bliss on his face as he began 
increasing his strokes, pumping in with swifter regularity, pounding, 
pounding, pounding, and at the same time building a whole new set of thrills 
for Rosalie. 

"Ohhhhhh ... you feel so good down there," Harry Norton gasped. His voice 
was a croaking whisper, and she realized no matter what she did or tried not 
to do, he was enjoying every part of her tender, moving body. 

Harry Norton began wondering if it was possible for his body to be revived. 
Perhaps this was only the first of many attractive women who might be good 
for him. Surely if one woman was able to do this, there were others. The 
doctors claimed a reasonable amount of sexual activity was good for the 
heart. Screwing would help keep him young. Yes, the idea of trying for a 
sexual comeback appealed to him more and more. 

He was using long, pumping strokes between her sucking cunt lips, grinding 
solidly into her with every stroke. He was aware of his thickness, and her 
tightness did enhance the feelings that much more. Her narrow inner tunnel 
was being widened with each forward stroke. The constant friction was 
causing a new thrilling buildup in her vagina, and it was moving from being 
intensely cold to agonizingly hot, and now she found herself actively 
participating without even trying to be willing. Heated passion was being 
crammed into her seething depths. She felt it creeping relentlessly along 
her vaginal walls reaching deep inside the narrowness of her womb. She tried 
fighting the shuddering sensation, but it was useless. She tried to slow 
down her deep, panting, but she was also unable to do that. She was 
breathing more and more rapidly. Beads of heavy perspiration broke out on 
her forehead, and she fought another losing battle with her pelvis after 
discovering it was continually rising to meet the thrusts of the cock buried 
inside her. She tried forcing her buttocks to remain still on the mattress, 
but it was impossible. She was bouncing with a regulated rhythm, and it 
seemed nothing would be able to stop her. 

"Gggguuuuunnnnnnggggghhhhh!" she gasped, finally realizing any kind of 
fighting, whether to maintain her status of prudery, or to keep pleasure 
from the horrible old man was hopeless. The battle was completely over, and 
she had lost. Her body was asserting its independence, and no matter how 
much she bumped her buttocks into the mattress, she couldn't keep them 
there. The lascivious flaming tongues of lust obscenely coursed through her 
blood vessels, and her heart beat all the more quickly in an effort to force 
the heatedly contaminated blood-contaminated with lust-through her entire 
body. Now her pelvis began rolling into high gear, unleashing itself after 
the long struggle she had put up to contain it. The pubis began moving up 
and down without restriction, riding the monorail of solidity within. The 
two moved in rapturous harmony with a' mounting excitement. Her inner 
muscles were the next to totally yield, twitching all around, vibrating, 
massaging, and sucking on the entire length of the penis thrusting through 
her. Her muscles pulled and tugged firmly, and the old man groaned with 
thrilled delight, "You are fantastic, Rosalie. You are one in a million. 
Imagine ... unnnnnhhhh ... a lady with an insurance mind like yours who 
really knows how to fuck." 

She had lost total control of herself, once and for all. She was two people 
now ... one being fucked, and one standing off to the side and watching what 
was happening to her body. She was staring at a full-fledged prostitute who 
was lying beneath Harry Norton's body as the old man continued slamming his 
weight against her. Her face was beginning to twist with an uncontrolled 
expression of wanton rapture. Her wriggling body squirmed under the man, and 
she was humming low murmurs of delighted encouragement with each new thrust 
of the man's throbbing cock. Her breath was now coming in dog-like panting, 
and her legs on both side's of the Norton's body were moving in salacious 
circles. Now there was nothing but the absolute delicious sensation of lying 
under this old man who was bringing her to a second peak of thundering glory 
in such a short space of time. She was all set to orgasm again. 

"Uuuuunnnnnhhhhh ... going to come ... going to come ... yes. . . " she 
gasped, reaching out, aching to feel it... 

That was when the old man stopped pumping. 

Unbelievingly, she looked up at him, seeing his wrinkled smiling face, 
perspiration making it glisten like oiled leather as he said, "Yes, you're 
good for me, Rosalie." 

She stared at him, unable to figure out why he had stopped. His organ hadn't 
shrunk at all. In fact, he was still inside her, flexing the massive baton, 
making her quiver each time it swelled. 

"Does it feel good inside you, Rosalie?" he asked. "Tell me the truth for a 
change. Don't just talk to make me happy. Does it feel good?" 

"I like it," Rosalie told him, with a glazed look in her eyes. "But I do 
like it." 

"Want me to finish?" 

"Please," she replied. 

"Good. It makes an old man glad to hear he really is capable of bringing a 
woman as young as yourself some joy and happiness." 

"Fuck me.I" she gasped to him. "Fuck me hard, and fuck me deep. Please, fuck 
me!" 

She groaned helplessly, bouncing her buttocks up and down, wanting to bring 
herself to final satisfaction. 

The old man caused his twitching phallus to throb again. He unexpectedly 
clasped her two buttocks together tightly. 

"I'm still not a youngster, even if you make me feel younger," he told her. 
"So if you don't mind, I'd like you to do some of the work." He rolled onto 
his side and onto his back, keeping his penis deeply buried in the tight 
orifice of her clinging vagina. The organ stretched her interior even more, 
but now there was pure ecstasy with every bit of pressure. 

Rosalie propped her knees up on the mattress, gripping his thighs for 
support as they remained between her own loins. The old man used his hands 
to yank her rounded buttocks down, and she sprung up automatically, needing 
no help. She rode his stronger-than-ever cock up and down, up and down, just 
as if she were on a wooden pony on a merry-go-round. Her vagina reached 
hopefully for the elusive hardness of his upraised penis, pulling it ever 
more deeply into her body. She moaned with an even wilder delight as she 
discovered this new, different position permitted her to jam that little 
fraction of an inch of cock he had been unable to fit into her all the way 
into her body. One of his hands reached between their bodies, and his thumb 
was rubbing her clitoris as she continued bucking up and down. She wanted to 
hate herself for what she was doing, simply from force of habit, but she 
realized the futility of hate. She was doing what she was doing because it 
was impossible not to do it. She was the man's helpless slave at the moment, 
even though she was on top. Free to jump up, to pull away, to run ... where? 
Where would she run? Outside? She was stark naked. What good would it do 
her? All she'd do was undo all the security she had built for herself. No, 
the cock was the thing she needed most, and the cock she would have, no 
matter what the consequences at this point were. She slammed her body 
unmercifully down against his white, hairy thighs, bouncing up and down 
lasciviously, her breasts moving up and down as well, slamming her naked 
pelvis against the impaling shaft as if she were trying to spear the entire 
length of it into her brain. 

"Unh, unh, unh, unh," she gasped again and again, each time her body slammed 
against his. She was once again approaching her crisis, coming closer and 
closer. Her mouth was working but no words were coming out, and her eyes 
were rolling in her head. 

Once again, on the brink of orgasm, she was stopped by the old man's hands 
gripping her hips and keeping her seated on his cock. She was incapable of 
any movement at all. 

Rosalie stared down at Harry Norton, feeling his cock throb, though he 
certainly wasn't spurting into her. Why had he stopped again? What was the 
matter? He was looking at her, smiling, and he finally said, "Just stay 
still for a little while, my dear. I don't want to come before Stan gets 
back. After all, this menage-a-trois was his idea, and I feel it only fair 
he receive some benefit from it, as well." 

Rosalie wiggled her behind a couple of times, hoping to make him loosen his 
grip so she might go on bouncing to a climax. He held her perfectly still, 
however, his strength almost prodigious for a man of his years. 

Simply lying there, she felt as if a slab of ice had suddenly surrounded 
her. She felt ridiculous not being able to move, but she remained still, 
feeling her inner muscles pulling and milking, massaging the thick wand 
crammed all the way inside her velvet channel. 

A few moments passed, then the door opened and Stan Bright came back in. 

"Hey," he said, walking over to the bed, offering no explanation why he had 
been outside so long, "I see you've started without me. Well just let old 
Stan undress, and we'll really get something going here." 

Once he was naked, he climbed onto the bed, then spat on his forefinger, and 
immediately began rubbing it against her anus. Rosalie caught her breath. 
She was used to a finger in her rectum while being fucked, as well as 
sucked. Both Stroud and Bright had fingered her there before. Even so, it 
was a bit of a shock to have two men working on her at the same time. 

"Stanley, this is both, obscene and disgusting," she said, turning her head 
and looking at him. 

"What's the matter, lady? You're behaving as if you've never had a finger in 
your behind before." He forced his finger deeper, rotating it in the tightly 
puckered mouth of her anus. 

"Stan ... you stop this..." she demanded. "I mean ... how can you, when I'm 
like this with Mr. Norton..." 

"Harry, my dear," the old man reminded her. "Call me Harry." 

"You, Stanley, may call me Mr. Norton," the old man told him, gripping 
Rosalie's hips firmly as Bright began forcing his finger into her anus. This 
time it didn't simply slide in and out. This time he was moving it around, 
as if he was trying to widen her anal tunnel, and for the life of her, 
Rosalie was unable to figure out just what his intentions were. Soon the 
finger was all the way in to the palm, and a second finger joined it, still 
rotating, churning about, widening her anus, making her writhe 
involuntarily. She attempted to escape from the finger by pressing her body 
down, but this only dug the old man's still solid cock that much deeper into 
her body. 

The hot prick was flexed as Harry Norton grunted with pleasure even more 
thickly inside her seething vaginal tunnel, and Rosalie was afraid the man 
would come before she ever reached her own orgasm. That would be a calamity 
as far as she was concerned, and it made her more angry than ever at Stan 
Bright for interfering in this way. 

Tensing her body, she tried to "eliminate" Bright's finger from her rectal 
channel, but was completely unsuccessful. Bright continued shoving his 
finger deeper and deeper, and as a result Harry Norton was moaning, in the 
wildest throes of ecstasy. 

In all the years he had fucked young girls before thinking his penis was too 
limp to grow, Harry Norton had never once tried making it with a female 
while another man was with him. It was a new experience, and the man's 
finger, pushing into Rosalie's anus, forced the wall of membrane separating 
the two channels to more tightly press against his penis, keeping the blood 
inside it, making certain it was as solid as if it were petrified. 

Stan Bright was now kneading the right buttock with his hand, squeezing the 
flesh, causing all kinds of arousing tingles charging through it. He lowered 
his face and began licking between her ass-cheeks, and with his finger still 
in her rectum allowed his tongue to run up and down in the fixture between 
her moon-like cheeks. He stopped again to bite her cheek's and continued 
licking, and all the time his finger continued pumping in and out of her 
tight rectal tunnel, moving rhythmically, causing her to once again start 
her bouncing in Harry Norton's lap. 

"I ... uuuuunnnnnhhhhh ... can't take much more..." she gasped. "Stan ... 
don't ... uuunnnnhhh ... do that ... stoppp ... pleeeeeeaaase ... wo more-no 
more..." 

Stan Bright wasn't listening. He was too busy pumping his fingers in and out 
of her rectum, continuing to move them circularly at the same time. 

"Ohhhhhhh ... n-o-o-o-o-o..." she gasped as the fingers pounded harder, 
really stretching her anal tightness. 

"Hurry it up, Stan," the old man gasped. "You have no idea how tight this 
cunt is. The woman is fucking the very life out of me." 

The heavy pressure in her rectum was more intense than it had ever been, and 
Rosalie was forced to splay her thighs even more widely apart to avoid any 
additional pain. Stan Bright took advantage of this to actually insert a 
third finger into her narrow rectum, and all of them made ever-widening 
circles as her anal opening was expanded to an even greater width. 

When he was finally satisfied, Stan Bright slid his three fingers from her 
rectum, and Rosalie breathed a momentary sigh of relief. Her relief was 
short-lived as Bright moved between her thighs from behind. He tugged open 
her softly yielding cheeky flesh, using his thumbs as prybars, and then 
leaned down one more time and deposited a big glob of saliva at the entrance 
to her rectum. It bubbled, and some of it actually went into her tiny 
aperture. 

"Now the fun really begins," he whispered to her. 

His hands clamped themselves on her hips and he began rubbing his penis 
against her buttocks, pressing it forward. Although she was still uncertain 
what it was this man intended, Rosalie decided to fight it by clenching her 
ass-cheeks shut. She tried writhing again, but was held immovable by the 
four hands gripping her quivering body. 

The head of Stan Bright's cock slipped against her rectal opening, and the 
realization came to her what the man intended doing. He pressed forward with 
his cock, and the power was such that the sphincter of her anus opened just 
enough to let his glans slide in. Then she clamped tight, gripping his 
pulsing cock just behind the corona. 

"Ohhhhhh n-o-o-o-o-o-o-o..."she gasped. "Not that ... not that ... don't do 
that to me...." 

Stan Bright took a deep breath then thrust his penis a bit deeper into her 
body, pushing, widening her narrow anus, forcing it to enlarge to 
accommodate the thickness of. his monstrous phallus. He kept pumping it in 
until his balls pressed against those of Harry Norton, beneath. The two sets 
of testicles rubbing against one another had the two men feeling static 
shoot through them. 

"Aaaaaaaiiiiiiieeeeeee ... yyyyyaaaaaggggghhhhhhh ... you're . . 
uuuuunnnnnhhhhh ... killllliiiiinnnnn meeeeee...." 

Rosalie felt as if someone had rammed two stone towers into her shuddering 
body. She quaked and quivered, unable to control herself, unable to stop 
what was happening. Her rectum and the lower part of her colon were filled 
with one pulsating penis, and her shivering vagina was clogged with yet 
another one. Both were immense in length and breadth, and both were 
stretching her until she was certain her entire interior would be torn out 
of her. A thin membrane of elastic tissue separated the two trembling 
channels, and so separated the two pounding penises. They moved back and 
forth, each rubbing against the other, like sideswiping diesel locomotives. 

Pain tore through her and she shivered, unable to control her body in any 
way. This was her just punishment for having coveted that job so strongly. 
Now she was being made to pay, and pay heavily. 

The two men began fucking her body, slamming her between them, and she, like 
a helpless rag doll, felt flung from one to the other, from one to the other 
like a baseball in a game of running bases. She had thought herself helpless 
before, but it was nothing compared to the helplessness she felt at the 
moment. Now her body felt more exposed than ever, and the pressure of these 
two men was more horrible than anything she had undergone. In again, out 
again, the penis in her vagina moved with her bouncing body, while the one 
in her rectum was out again, in again. This time the two men were going to 
kill her. She no longer needed to worry about security, nor did she have to 
worry about her retirement. Her life was going to end here, tonight, now! 

Stan Bright was slamming into her rectum with maniacal fury, his hot cock 
thrilling to the narrow tightness of her tubular tunnel. By now, Harry 
Norton was close to reaching his own satisfaction. He sensed the drooling 
sperm beginning to move from his testicles to his penis, and he started 
bouncing up and down on the bed, thrusting his pike ever more deeply into 
Rosalie's tightened vagina. She had one helluva fantastic cunt. It tasted 
good, and now it was good to fuck. 

Rosalie felt the pain slowly easing now. Little by little it was giving way 
to discomfort, and the discomfort slowly but surely gave way to a new, 
deeper kind of pleasure. At first she thought she might be some kind of a 
masochist, glorying in the hurt they were causing her, but with the passing 
moments she realized there was no longer any pain in her. It was actual 
pleasure. She was feeling pleasure in her rectum as she was being buffeted 
back and forth between the two fucking men. 

Unable to escape from these two vile men, unable to prevent what was 
happening, she had no recourse but to accept it all, and she was accepting 
with a vengeance. Thrills charged through her. Electricity sizzled through 
her two orifices as both men slammed viciously into her. 

Again she began losing control of her body. Once more an orgasm began rising 
inside her, but this time it was an orgasm she had no intention of allowing 
to get away. It was building because of a massage of her anal nerve-endings 
as well as her vaginal tunnel being scoured. On top of everything else, 
Harry Norton's thumb was massaging her clitoris again. She was being 
stimulated in three places at once, and it was driving her absolutely wild. 

Now her orgasm was almost on her, hovering over her like a horrible bird of 
prey looking for some place to set down. 

Then, with frightening suddenness, she felt the climax starting to close 
around her. Now it was she, feeling a sudden desperate hunger, taking 
control, wrestling it from the two men who had her sandwiched between them. 
She began frantically bucking and bouncing, jumping up and down, slamming 
her buttocks up as she leaned forward, hitting Stan Bright in the pelvis 
with her ass-cheeks. It was she who was now urging the two men to thrust all 
the more deeply into her, rearing her buttocks in the air as she ground her 
cheeks around and around to get the full depth of Stan Bright's phallus in 
her rectum. Then she slammed down as hard as she was able, skewering her 
body all the more firmly on the penis in her vagina. Up, then down, up, then 
down. Her body moved as if the two penises were one, and she was simply 
sliding back and forth on a single pipe within her. 

A triple upheaval burst through her body, and Rosalie slammed with powering 
thrusts up and down, hitting Stan Bright so hard with her buttocks she 
almost threw him off her each time. 

Harry Norton reached his own peak at that point, firing a jet stream of 
semen into her vagina, flooding her with newly manufactured liquid, 
exploding it into her vagina again and again. 

"EE E E E YYYYYAAAAARRRRRRGGG-GGGHHHHHH!" the retiring chairman bellowed, 
feeling his strength leave his body with his sperm. 

Stan Bright, who was a way behind the other two, began pounding his cock 
into Rosalie a lot faster, and he continued filling her rectum with his hard 
penis until he felt the thrilling sensations rise in him. He was firing, 
too, blasting all of what was left of his semen into her anus, flooding it 
with the heated white liquid, coating it, soothing the aches within. 

Rosalie felt the tired man behind her slide off, and she found that Harry 
Norton's penis had shrunk so that it had fallen out of her. Wearily, she 
pulled herself off the bed and staggered to the bathroom, running a tub full 
of hot water. This time she chose bath oils with the scent "of carnations, 
and she sank her bone-weary body into the heated tub, never aware of when 
the two men in her bedroom dressed and left. Her cigarettes were in her 
purse now resting on the sink, and leaning forward, she grabbed the purse, 
took the pack out, and lit one up. 

What a harrowing convention. It was one she was never likely to forget, and 
she had been to nearly ten of them. This time she had discovered that she 
was a whole woman, with all a woman's feelings. 

Taking another drag on the cigarette, she relaxed and let the hot water sink 
into her pores. This was one bath she really needed. "How do you feel?" 

Looking up, she saw Rand Stroud enter the bathroom. 

"Tired," she said, knowing he was probably aware of what had just taken 
place. 

"I knocked before and was surprised to see Stan Bright come out. He told me 
about Harry Norton. They really put you through a wringer." 

"They did," she nodded, handing him the cigarette butt, letting him flush it 
down the toilet. "Now I suppose you want some?" 

"Give me credit for some human feelings, Rosalie. I'll wait until you're 
feeling better. Hell! I'm going to be around for a long time to come. Now 
get a good night's sleep." 

 CHAPTER SEVEN 

As Regional Supervisor, Rosalie Martin had to keep close tabs on all the 
offices in her region. She spent most of her time going from office to 
office, making certain everything was going smoothly. Since there were well 
over five-hundred offices in her region alone, she never returned to the 
same office more than once a year, unless trouble suddenly reared its ugly 
head. She kept a very close eye on the managers, and when she saw friction 
developing between a promising salesman and a manager, she made a point of 
stepping in personally, trying to straighten things out. This kept many good 
men from leaving Residential. It also helped boost sales, and, as everyone 
expected, hers was the best-producing region for the company. 

She made frequent visits to the home office, and on more than one occasion 
was visited by Rand Stroud. She no longer felt any inhibitions about bedding 
down with him, and she even continued sleeping with Stan Bright, though she 
made sure he knew she was boss, and not he. 

Rosalie had become very pragmatic about her job, and what she enjoyed most 
was breaking down those who worked under her who believed sex was something 
relegated strictly to a husband and wife. She enjoyed showing most of them 
up for the hypocrites they were. 

The one she really enjoyed working on was Robert Sametto, a division manager 
who was doing exceedingly well, but who wanted to become a full-time 
manager. Rob Sametto was almost six-feet tall, with black hair and brown 
eyes, with the kind of looks and body to give any woman fits. Unfortunately 
he was one of those rare individuals who believed in remaining faithful to 
his wife, once he was married to her. He had a pretty enough wife, too. 
Rosalie had met her at the next convention. It would have been fun to have 
Rand Stroud seduce the wife, and then have Sametto walk in on them, but he 
was such an uptight jerk, Rosalie felt it might break up his marriage, and 
she wasn't looking to do that. No, she left the wife alone. 

When the convention was over and everyone returned to their offices to 
resume working again. Rosalie went to the office where Sametto was still a 
division manager, and told him his own manager was inefficient, and was 
therefore being demoted to division manager again. She wanted to discuss the 
possibility of his becoming office manager, and therefore, she wanted him to 
come to the motel room where she was staying while in that part of the city. 

Rob Sametto, being totally naive, was certain she meant to discuss business 
and nothing else, and as a result, showed up at her motel room at 
three-thirty in the afternoon. Rosalie was ready and waiting for him. She 
was wearing a silk see-though, negligee and nothing underneath. The moment 
Sametto walked into the room, he gulped, wanting to point out that all her 
attributes were visible. He was too much of a gentleman to say anything, and 
as a result, waited for Rosalie to start talking. 

"As you know," she said, lighting a cigarette, then turning to face him so 
he had a full view of her body under the see-through, "we're looking for an 
efficient man to replace your present manager who just isn't cutting the 
mustard." 

"I've felt for sometime now that he's been lax," Sametto nodded, only too 
quick to agree. 

"In more ways than one," Rosalie told him. "We at Residential are modern, 
and we're very forward-looking. We're trying to keep an up-to-date image, 
which means the complete servicing of all customers at all times. I'm 
certain you understand that." 

"Of course," Sametto once again agreed. "I'll see to it that all my men not 
only sell their clients, but give them complete service in every respect." 

"In every respect?" Rosalie asked. 

"Naturally," the man nodded. 

"Now Bob, I think it important that we understand the meaning of the words 
full service. Although our sales force is not expected to baby our 
clientele, we have to do many things above and beyond the call of normal 
duty, don't you agree?" 

"Well, we've already had some men doing baby sitting service when they went 
to a client's home. One even changed diapers." 

"Excellent. Then you do understand the meaning of the concept of full 
service." 

"I would certainly hope so," Sametto nodded. 

"Now Rob, suppose I were a client, and you came here to sell me a policy. 
Suppose you saw that I was somewhat depressed and unhappy. As you know, 
depressed clients often give poor medical readings when the doctors examine 
them. I think it imperative to remove all kinds of depression." 

"Well ... uhhhhh ... yes, of course." 

"Good. We're still in agreement. Now you see me here, down in the dumps, 
unhappy, so how do you go about cheering me up." 

"Well, the first thing I'd do is try to find out what is troubling you." 

"As I said, pretend I'm a client. Go ahead." 

"Uhhhh ... yes ... well ... uhhhh ... tell me, Ms. Martin, you seem to be 
unhappy. Is there anything wrong?" 

"Nothing you can do much about." Rosalie sighed. 

"Well, why not let me be the judge of that. An attractive woman like 
yourself ought not to be so morose." 

"Do you really think I'm attractive?" Rosalie asked, coyly. "Extremely so." 

"Funny, but other men don't seem to think so." 

"Well ... err ... what do you mean?" 

"I go out on many dates, but most men just shake my hand at the door and 
leave when the date is over. Tell me, Mr. Sametto, is there anything wrong 
with me?" 

"Of course not," he said, sounding a bit more self-assured. 

"Would you care to prove it to me?" 

"What do you mean?" 

"Mr. Sametto, I need to be loved. I need it badly. Do you think you could 
love a woman like me?" 

Rob Sametto had backed himself into a corner. He realized too late that 
there was no way out of it. If he refused, he would, in essence, be 
rebuffing the one person who would be able to promote him to the next job he 
wanted. Without that promotion he was at a dead-end. Whether he liked it or 
not, he realized he had to go through with this. Not that making love to a 
woman like Rosalie Martin was such a horrible chore, but it meant breaking 
his vow of fidelity. He only hoped his wife would never learn of this. 

"You're ... uhhhhh ... an extremely attractive woman," he said, moving 
closer to her. "Why you're very pretty." 

"All of me?" Rosalie asked, knowing she had him. 

"Why ... uhhhh ... yes." 

"Wouldyou kiss me to prove it?" 

"Of course," he nodded, and came closer. 

"Not on the mouth," her voice said. 

"Pardon?" 

"I said, not on the mouth. I want you to kiss me here." 

She opened up as she sat in the chair, spreading her thighs and pointing to 
her vagina. 

"There?" he asked, gulping, never having done anything like that with his 
wife. 

"As a person who knows how to give full service you'll certainly be entitled 
to become the new manager of your office." 

Slowly Sametto sank to his knees, moving forward, and he moved his head 
gingerly between her white thighs. Rosalie smiled, reached out and slammed 
his face into her vagina, and as his tongue instinctively reached into her 
sopping vagina, she smiled and slammed her hips forward, clamping her thighs 
around the man's head. He was amateurish at it, but he would learn. She 
would take the time to teach him. She had so much time. 


THE END
