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From: "David Altaire" <david_altaire@hotmail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Sarah 3/? {David Altaire} (MF, slutgf, rom, light bd, humil, anal, exhib)
Date: Fri,  1 Aug 2003 21:10:05 -0400
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Chapter 3 of the "Sarah" saga--again, while this story will stand
alone in a pinch, it's not meant to.  So if you want to really
understand what's going on, it would behoove you to read the
first two chapters first.  If you're just looking for the sex, you'll
need to scroll down a bit, but it's there.  As in the first two
sections, this work is entirely fictional.

And of course, we have to take care of the standard disclaimers.
This is story depicting various sexual acts between consenting
adults.  If you are not of the legal age to read such accounts
in your region, then make sure that nobody is watching before
you scroll down.  If you cannot legally read sexually explicit tales
at any age in your hometown, bookmark this document, move,
and then read on.

The character of Sarah behaves in some very unsafe manners
in this story, particularly in having unprotected sex with
strangers.  Remember, this is *fantasy*--it's fine to fantasize
about porking some random person on the streets, but actually
doing so in real life is just plain stupid, especially if you don't
use any form of protection.  Fictional characters don't have
to worry about HIV and other sexually transmitted diseases.
We do.

The author (that's me) hereby grants any and all readers the
right to freely download this story for their own private use,
and to maintain a stored copy in electronic or paper form for
the same.  Archivists may display this work on their own sites,
provided that full access to their archived works is granted
free of charge, and this introductory message is left attached
in its entirety to the story.  Under no circumstances may
this work be displayed on any site which requires persons to
pay for membership or accepts paid advertising, even if the
story is displayed in a free or "preview" portion of the website,
without the prior expressed consent of the author.

-David Altaire
Comments/suggestions/hate mail are always welcome at:
David_Ataire@hotmail.com

_________________________________________________________________
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<1st attachment, "Sarah03.txt" begin>

  In the first two chapters of my tale about Sarah and
I, I shared with you the story of how we met and fell
in love, along with some of Sarah's more memorable
sluttish exploits since we've been together.  I also
tried to explain a little about our relationship with
each other, as well as a bit about my wonderful
girlfriend's inner makeup--why she does the things she
does, why it turns us both on so much when she fucks
around with other men, and why trust and love have
never been a problem between us.

  But as we passed over the 6 month mark and hit the
downhill slope towards our one year anniversary, things
were less than perfect.  I suppose that some of the
newness was wearing off, and as we grew more and more
comfortable with each other, we grew less and less
likely to overlook minor things like forgetting to stop
for milk or smoking the last cigarette without buying
another pack.  We never had any major blowouts and we
never parted company mad, but there was a little bit of
the every day bickering which is present in any close
relationship.

  For Sarah, it was just that she hated winter.  As the
weather got colder, she was less able to wear the
skimpy lightweight clothes that she usually decked
herself out in, and thus less able to flaunt her
incredible body to others.  It also cuts down on her
ability to go out and get fucked at random, both
because of the less revealing clothing and because
ducking out the back door of a bar for a quickie isn't
really an option when the wind chill is below zero.
While the two of us still shared a great sex life and
she was quick to point out that she was getting more
and better sex by being with me than she normally would
during the colder months, it was obvious that her
inability to be as spontaneous and shocking in public
was a downer for my Sarah.

  As for me, my mood was directly attributable to my
job.  I hated work with a passion rivaled only by my
love for Sarah, and just like my feelings for my slutty
little girlfriend, my hatred for work seemed to grow
even greater every single day.  I won't bore you with
the details of my job, other than to say that I spent
my days sitting in front of a computer terminal in a
tiny cubicle, doing the same thing over and over and
over again, with my only reward for a job well done
being that I didn't have one or more supervisors
chewing me out for screwing up.  Many of you know
exactly what I'm talking about, and for the rest of
you, I hope you never learn about it.  I supposedly
only had one direct supervisor, but that didn't stop
any number of people who stood one or more rungs above
me on the corporate ladder from stopping by to remind
me of every mistake I ever made.

  It's a very sad day when you realize that your life
is out of options--for better or worse, you have made
the decisions already which will affect everything you
do from this day forward.  You've chosen your major in
college, if you chose to attend college at all, and
you've tied yourself to a career with some huge company
which doesn't even know you exist unless you're about
to be fired.  It's too late to go back to school and
start a new career and you don't have the financial
security to retire, so you're haunted day and night by
the knowledge that you still have decades of this shit
to put up with.  That was the mindset that I was in
when I met Sarah.

  For a while, the mere presence of Sarah in my life
was enough to take my mind away from my lack of job
fulfillment, but as the months flew by and I became
more and more used to having her around, I began to
focus again on my professional life, and it dragged me
down even deeper than I had been before.  I made pretty
good money, and between that and the money Sarah
received from her father we were doing well enough
financially, but it got harder and harder for me to don
the coat and tie every morning and stagger out the
door, even knowing that my loving girlfriend would be
waiting for my return that evening.  It finally came to
a head just before Christmas, when I tried to opt out
of a promised night on the town with Sarah, after yet
another bad day at work.

  "I'm sick of this, Josh!", she told me.  "I love you,
and I love being with you, but I want to be able to go
out with you again, and I hate seeing you just mope
around the apartment all night because of some crap or
whatever at work."

  "Sarah...look, you want me to go out tonight, fine.
But I'm going to be an even bigger damper on your fun
if I'm there."  I knew it wasn't fair to her either
way, but that's just how I felt.

  "I don't want you pissed off about it, period!", she
yelled.  We rarely raised our voices in anger or
frustration, but it did sometimes happen.  "I want you
to get over it!  God, it's only a fucking job!!"

  "I can't just snap my fingers and be like, 'oh, work
sucked today and yesterday, and it'll probably suck
tomorrow, but that's fine'!"

  "Well if you hate the fucking job so much, why don't
you just quit?"  She stared at me defiantly, daring me
to argue.

  I took the bait.  "I can't just *quit*, Sarah!"

  "Why not?"

  "Because--", and I stopped.  Why not, indeed?  I
hated my job, that much was obvious.  The money was
nice, but it wasn't essential to our survival.  And it
certainly wasn't like I was in line for any big
promotion somewhere down the road.

  "You can't even think of a single reason, can you?"
Sarah was smirking a bit, well aware that she had won
the argument before it even began.  She sat down,
patting the couch beside her lightly to beckon me over.
I sat, and her voice turned softer.  "Josh, I get more
than enough money from my esteemed father to support
us.  Sure, maybe we won't be able to afford to eat out
in expensive restaurants so much or go to some big
play, but that's okay.  I want *you*; I want the old
Josh back, the one who couldn't stop smiling whenever
he looked at me, the one who loved to go out barhopping
with me and watch me while I flashed my pussy at
people.  The one who was fun to be with."

  She let that last sentence hang on the air, along
with its implication that I was no longer fun to be
around.  And I knew that it was true--that I was so
busy fretting over work on a daily basis that I hardly
ever did anything with Sarah anymore, to the point
where even our sex was starting to become a routine.  A
very satisfying routine, to say the least, but still a
routine, no longer filled with the bouyant spontaneity
which had made our relationship so uniquely rewarding
in months past.

  "I don't know, Sarah.  I mean, I've always had a job;
I wouldn't know what to do with myself without one.
And besides, what if...what if things didn't work out
between us, one day?"  I hated to even voice that
possibility, unthinkable as it was.

  "Are you really worried about that, Josh?"

  "No," I admitted sheepishly.

  "What have you always wanted to be?"

  "A writer."  She already knew the answer, had seen
some of my scribblings before.

  "So be a writer, baby."

  "It's not that easy, Sarah.  I mean, you can't just
decide to be a writer and suddenly have a best seller;
you have to find a publisher who's willing to put out
your work, and who's willing and able to promote it,
and then you have to hope that people will actually
want to buy it...hell, it's as likely that I'll win the
lottery as be able to make a living writing."

  "Josh," she said, her voice carrying a tenderness
almost akin to a mother's, "I'll worry about the bills.
You don't have to worry about making money, just about
doing what you want to do.  Everyone has the same
chance of winning the lotto because it's totally
random, but you're a good writer--not everybody is.
You can do it, Josh."

  People were always telling me that I was a good
writer, and I suppose that on some level I believed it.
The problem was, no publishers were ever telling me
that I was good.  Okay, so I'd never actually submitted
any of my work *to* a publisher at that point, but I
never bought lotto tickets either--that didn't mean
that I couldn't complain about not winning.

  She saw the hesitation on my face.  "Let me do this
for you, Josh, please.  Let me do it for us."

  And I couldn't argue with the sacred "us", even if
I'd wanted to.  We both wound up staying in that night,
her leaning over my shoulder and helping as I drew up
my two week notice for the company.  Actually, as we
drew up two of them--one cloaked in business-ese,
filled with catch-phrases like "my personnel business
opportunities" and "lack of opportunities for
advancement", which I planned to actually use; and
another one which stated in plain English exactly what
I thought about the company and why I was quitting.
Let me tell you, it's very theraputic.  I turned it in
the next morning, and wasn't very suprised when my boss
just gave it a quick once-over and grunted an okay.

  I felt worlds better immediately, though, and it
translated quickly into a much happier and closer
relationship with Sarah.  We went out that night and
closed the bars, spending the night fucking our brains
out back at our place before I crawled out the door on
one hour's sleep for a last day of work before the
weekend.

  The following Friday was the company Christmas party,
which I had intended to just skip because of my
impending separation from the office.  But Sarah wanted
to go, said that she wanted to finally meet some of the
people who had made my life such a living hell, and she
eventually talked me into it.  Even as I drove home
Friday evening I still wasn't convinced that it was
such a good idea, though.

  At that point, I had three days left at work, so I
wasn't particularly worried about Sarah causing a
scene with my coworkers which would lead to any
recriminations or embarassment the following Monday.
But I did fret over it just a little; Sarah was her own
woman, and I wouldn't even think of asking her to tone
her usual self down even slightly for my officemates.
However, I was a bit nervous over what they would think
of her and our relationship, these people that I had
shared a coffeemaker and break room with for 6 years.
Mainly, the thing that worried me was Rich.

  Rich was the kind of guy that you just instinctively
hate.  He had started at the company a full year after
I did, but while I had languished at the bottom levels
of the corporate chain, he had almost immediately begun
his climb upwards.  He wasn't my boss, not technically,
but he was a supervisor in an area that my work wound
up in, and he wasn't at all hesitant to come directly
to me with any problems he had with my work.  He wasn't
an ass about it, which would have been easier to deal
with--he was incredibly friendly and condescending
towards me, as if he felt that his mere presence at my
cubicle should make my entire week.

  I hated everything about Rich--from his short blonde
hair, closely cropped into a fashionable business 'do
at some salon that charged $250 per cut, to his perfect
smile with the gleaming white teeth, to his
well-tailored and expensive suits, to his sporty
foreign luxury car which sat parked in executive
territory in the garage.  He had "corporate bigshot"
written all over his face, even if he didn't know half
as much as I did about what the company actually did.

  Rich was also a womanizer of the first degree, going
through a variety of office temps, model and actress
wannabees, and anything else that looked cute in a
skirt and could be easily seduced by the appearance of
wealth.  And so I knew that it would only be a matter
of time at the party before he set his sights on my
beautiful girlfriend, who was almost always willing to
spread her legs for any man who caught her eye.

  I didn't even mention Rich to Sarah, because I don't
like to limit her in any way; I never have.  I knew
that if I told her not to fuck him, she wouldn't do it.
But at the same time, I knew that I'd have to explain
certain things about myself to her because of it--not
that she'd ask or expect me to, but because I'd feel
obligated to.  Okay, so I admit it--I had an
inferiority complex where Rich was concerned; he was
everything that you're supposed to be in the corporate
world, while I most certainly was not, and for years
I'd seen one pretty woman after another stop by his
office for a quick chat, while I floundered alone and
single.  The thought that he would be fucking my Sarah
disturbed me in a way that nothing else could, no
matter that Sarah fucked a lot of other guys, and that
we both got off on that fact.

  So I was understandably nervous when I got back to
the apartment that evening, and was then flabbergasted
when I saw Sarah, already dressed and ready to go.

  If you've read the first two chapters of this tale,
you know that Sarah loves to dress in blatantly slutty
clothing; she enjoys flauntering her sexuality to other
people, shocking them as often as she can.  Her entire
wardrobe is filled with tiny skirts, high heels, see
through blouses, and anything else you can imagine
which an exhibitionistic tramp would want to wear.  I
had almost dreaded seeing what she'd picked out for
tonight, but I certainly wasn't prepared for what I
saw.

  Sarah looked...beautiful!  Her hair was actually
styled, instead of quickly brushed into something
approaching a hairdo, and her makeup was applied far
more subtly than I'd ever seen on her before a night
out.  Her dress was modestly cut, pale green in color,
rising to a demure vee which showed just the slightest
hint of cleavage at the top, and falling to a hair
above her knees, the skirt cut in a business look.  She
wore a pair of white three inch pumps along with
matching stockings (Sarah doesn't own a single pair of
pantyhose, so if I see nylon, I know they're
stockings), with a simple gold chain around her neck
and small faux-diamond studs in her ears.  In other
words, she looked just like a particularly beautiful
PTA mom who decided to dress just a little bit sexily
for a big party.

  She saw me gawking at her and laughed.  "I bought it
today, just for the party.  Do you like it?"  She gave
me a brief twirl, confirming that there was no hidden
slit or bizarre cut to undermine the demure look.

  "You look....gorgeous!  It's just..."

  "Not like something I'd wear?", she finished,
laughing sweetly.  I nodded.  "Even if you're quitting,
these are still your friends and coworkers, honey.  I'm
going to be a good girl tonight--*your* good girl."

  Sarah insisted that I change into something which
went a little better with her own dress, but we were
back on the familiar route to my office about half an
hour later.  The party was centered on one of the lower
management levels, where there was far more floor and
table space than in the land of the cubicles where I
toiled daily.  I quickly found us to be the center of
attention, or more accurately, Sarah to be at the
center of all the single (and many of the married)
mens' attention.  Even dressed as modestly as she was
that night, she still caught the eye the way that any
beautiful woman does, and despite her honest attempts
to appear the prototypical sweet girlfriend, she was
still surrounded by some kind of invisible slutty aura.

  We'd been there for about an hour, during which I'd
been drawn into a conversation about the coming NFL
playoffs and Sarah had excused herself to find a topic
she more enjoyed (Sarah may be the perfect woman in
nearly every other way, but she doesn't like football).
I finally begged out of the debate on the Jets' chances
to first visit the restroom, and then find my girl.
The primary task completed, I scanned the area for
Sarah's blonde hair and lilting voice, and came up
empty.  As I wandered the party to look more carefully,
I couldn't help but cast an eye around for Rich, who
was in attendence, and felt a pit in my stomach when I
realized that he, too, seemed to have vanished.

  I commanded myself to calm down and go back to the
party--Sarah had fucked many other men since we'd
started dating, all with my genuine approval, and if
nothing else I could look forward to an excellent fuck
when we got home later.  Who was I to get upset over
her fucking one more man, even if I did hate and
secretly envy him?  I had just rejoined the football
talk when I felt a tap on my shoulder.

  "Come here," Sarah whispered into my ear playfully,
"I have something I want to show you."

  I had a sinking feeling that what she wanted to show
me was her freshly fucked pussy, but I followed her as
she led me first to the stairwell and then up two
floors, into upper management territory.  "Where are we
going?", I asked at her incessant urging.

  "It's a suprise," she teased.  "I left something up
here that I thought you might enjoy."

  "We're not supposed to be up here," I hissed at her
when she opened the door and led me onto the darkened
floor, steering us quickly toward an open doorway.

  "Trust me," she smiled, and I did, as I always have.

  We stepped into what was obviously an executive
boardroom, a huge oak table dominating the center of
the floor with a large, matching lectern set to one
end, in front of a video screen.  Plush, high-backed
leather chairs surrounded the tabletop, a bank of
windows lining the far wall and all the lights off.
I turned to her to ask what she wanted to show me,
here, when I heard a muffled exclamation coming from
the dark.

  Sarah giggled when my jaw dropped, my eyes finally
adjusting to the dark and locking onto a shape huddled
deep into the far corner of the room.  "What the...?"

  Sarah scampered over to the corner, turning the
closest chair to face the dim figure and plopping down
happily onto the leather seat.  "He tried to seduce
me," she explained, "and I guess I kind of flirted back
a little.  But then he said something about you that I
didn't like, so I decided to turn things around once we
got up here."

  It was, of course, Rich; his tie wrapped around his
head and serving as a gag, his pants piled down around
his ankles, and his arms raised above and behind him,
wrists handcuffed to an electrical conduit above the
thermostat on the wall.  "What did he say?", I
stammered, trying not to laugh at his struggling form
and panicked eyes.

  She laughed for me.  "Do you really want to know?"

  "Yeah."

  "He said that he could understand why a woman like me
would want another cock if I was dating you."  She
paused to smile tauntingly at him when he tried to
blurt something, probably a denial, through the
tie/gag.  "I told him that you're a better fuck than he
could possibly be, especially after I saw that pathetic
little thing that he calls a dick, but he seemed to
think that you aren't satisfying me."

  I didn't know what to say.  I know that some men get
off on the self-humiliation factor of being with a
woman who fucks around, but I'm not one of them--I
simply love Sarah, and love her aggressive and
confident attitude towards sex.  So I wasn't at all
pleased to hear that Rich had said something like that
about me, but I likewise wasn't overly upset; Sarah
doesn't give a rat's ass what other people think of her
behavior, and even than I was already learning to
emulate her attitude.  I trust Sarah and her love for
me, in a way that most men either can't or won't.  And
yeah, it helped that she said that last bit, too.

  It was hard to tell in the dim light that poured in
from the always-on emergency lighting, but what I did
see between his legs was not very impressive at all.
Then again, he was most assuredly not erect at the
moment.  "Where'd you get the handcuffs?", I finally
managed.

  "He had them."  She kept her teasing smile on him as
he groaned, apparently figuring out what was coming
next.  "It seems that your buddy Richie likes to be
handcuffed and spanked, and told that he's a naughty
boy.  Don't you, Richie?"  He didn't try to answer, but
couldn't have anyway.  "So I told him to get the cuffs,
and then I gave him just a tiny sample of what you get
whenever you want it."  She paused to level a much more
genuine smile on me.  "And then once I had him all
worked up and begging for release, I went to get you!"
Sarah was obviously pleased with herself.

  I shook my head and laughed softly.  "You're too
much, baby."

  "Not too much for you," she cooed to me.  "By the
way, did you notice that Rich is wearing panties?"

  I looked, seeing also the appalled and embarassed
look on his face when she told me that.  Sure enough, I
could just make out something far too lacy to be mens'
underwear tucked inside his trousers, around his feet.

  "Apparently," she went on, dragging out the word,
"Richie has a mistress, who instructed him to wear her
panties tonight so that he would be too bashful to fuck
any other women.  Not that it was working," she said
in mock indignation.

  I was truly at a loss.  Yes, because of the sight of
the corporate big shot Rich handcuffed to the wall,
little lace panties wrapped around his ankles, but
mainly by Sarah herself.  Remember, I had never
breathed so much as a word to her about my feelings
towards Rich, nor about anyone in particular at my
office.  I hadn't asked her to tone down her look
tonight, but she had understood that I wanted her to
anyway.  I hadn't asked her not to fuck anyone tonight,
but she'd decided not to regardless.  And I had never
asked her not to fuck Rich in particular, but she'd
taken exception to something he said to her about me,
and she'd actually gone one step further in setting up
this display for my benefit.

  I was angry at myself for ever doubting her even for
an instant, but most of all, I was more in love with
Sarah than ever before--this wonderful, sexy woman who
had somehow managed to penetrate feelings and fears
that I wouldn't even admit to myself, and who had found
a way to not only avoid them, but alleviate them
entirely and permanently.  It's something that I've
since grown used to her doing--in many, many ways,
Sarah knows me better than I know myself.  She doesn't
need to hear the words from me, because she can read
my thoughts before I can even understand them.

  "Come over here."  She interrupted my train of
thought, standing again and taking a step towards the
corner of the table.  I went to her.

  "Now that I've shown you your suprise, I want you to
do something for me," she purred into my ear.

  "Name it," I whispered back.

  "I want you to fuck me, right here and now."  Her
voice was louder, obviously aimed as much for Rich's
ears as mine.  "I want him to see what he's missing out
on, and see just how good you fill my cunt."

  As she said it, Sarah had turned away from me,
rucking her dress up around her hips while she bent to
brace herself on the arm of her chair.  She stood no
more than 4 feet from the immobile Rich, whose eyes
nearly bugged out of his head when he caught sight of
the garter belt holding up my girlfriend's white
stockings, and the bare, shaven, and obviously wet cunt
which lay between the straps.  She turned slightly
until she stood in profile to his view, lifting the
leg closest to him and setting her heeled foot onto the
cushion of her chair.

  She ground her hips slowly, reaching between her legs
to spread her cuntlips open.  "Come on, Josh.  Please
put it in me, fill me up so good like you always do."
Her voice was a pleading whine which she rarely used,
sounding for all the world like a naughty little
schoolgirl begging for a cherished toy.  "Fuck your
little slut, Josh."

  If I had been hesitant to do her like that, in the
executive boardroom with a company supervisor
handcuffed to the wall beside us and a party raging on
just two floors below, the sound of her voice and the
sight of her sopping pussy quickly convinced me to give
in to that temptation.  I fished my erection out of my
pants, moving up behind her and positioning myself at
her opening.

  "Oh, God yes, Josh!  Don't tease me like that, fuck
me baby.  Put it in and fuck me soooo good."

  I did.  I rammed into her so hard that she almost
fell over onto the chair, Sarah screaming loudly and
urging me on.  I got off on it; on the feeling of her
juicing cunt wrapped around my shaft, on the closeness
and helplessness of my corporate rival beside us, and
on the stream of cum-churning filth which poured from
Sarah's mouth as I pounded her willing hole.

  "Oh fuck yeah, it feels so good!", she'd cry.  "Pound
my slutty little cunt, punish me for taking his tiny
prick into my mouth!  Fuck me baby, like only you can!"

  She focused a lot of attention on poor hapless Rich,
too, who couldn't help but watch as we rutted right in
front of him.  "He lets me fuck other guys, you know,"
she told him.  "I can fuck anyone else I want to,
because Josh knows I could never get enough of his huge
cock."  That's the least of the reasons why I
encourage her dalliances, but I understood what she was
doing.  "I bet you wish that was your prick inside me
right now, don't you?  You thought I was going to fuck
you tonight, that just because I've fucked hundreds of
hard cocks before and I'll fuck hundreds more, I'd let
you slide yours inside my slutty little cunt, didn't
you?  But you're not going to get to--I'll fuck
everyone else in this building, but not you.  Never
you."

  Sarah really isn't like that; she's ordinarily a very
warm and caring woman, whether it's with me or with
some random guy that she's decided to fuck on a given
night.  She'd later explain to me that he had said
quite a few other things about me before she sprang her
trap, most of which she's never told me, and that had
really pissed her off.  So she took out all of her
aggression on him, taunting him like that, berating him
as she came on my dick, getting off on it in a big way.
She loved it, and I have to admit, so did I.

  "Oh yeah, baby, it feels so good, you're gonna make
me cum again!", she cried out to me, doing exactly
that.  Her body trembled and shook while I rammed her,
and I could see her head turned towards Rich, staring
at him through lust-clouded eyes while she orgasmed.
"My ass!", she panted, "Put it in my ass!"

  I was on the brink of cumming myself, but I willed
myself to stop, to pull my pulsing length out of her
cunt and slide into her rear entry.  "Oh YES!", she
moaned exaggeratedly, speaking to Rich again.  "I love
it in my ass," she told him, "I love a nice, hard cock
deep in my asshole.  Have you ever met a woman who
would let you stick even that tiny thing into her back
door?"

  He didn't try to answer, just stared wide-eyed at the
slutty display that Sarah was providing for him.  She
smiled at him and grunted in time with my thrusts,
pouring on her act thicker than I've ever seen before
or since.  She sensed me nearing the edge and spoke
again to our watcher.  "He's going to cum soon, and
when he does, I'm going to swallow it all.  I'm going
to take his cock straight out of my asshole and suck
him dry.  Because I'm a slut, and I'll do absolutely
anything to get Josh's cum."

  I jerked my cock out of her ass right that instant,
squeezing the base to hold my load in until she could
manuever around to get her lips on me.  And that she
did, sucking greedily while staring at Rich from the
corner of her eye, moaning around my shaft when I
started to pump a few moments later.  She pulled me out
of her mouth after the first couple jets, jacking me
off into her open lips, still looking at the supervisor
while she flicked her tongue out and around.  She let
her aim off, intentionally I'm sure, some of my juice
spraying down onto her chin and the front of her dress.
"Oopsies," she giggled, "I guess I'll just have to walk
around with cum on my chest for the rest of the night."
Rich groaned around his gag at that.

  When my balls finally emptied, she sat there on the
chair for several minutes longer, alternately licking
at my drooping prick and rubbing the head all over her
cheeks, her eyes still locked onto our forced (but
willing) voyeur.  "He tastes so good," she told him,
"and his cum feels soooo nice on my skin."

  She finally released my dick from her grasp, smiling
up at me with her cum-coated cheeks.  "I just have to
do one more thing before we go, baby," she purred to
me.  I nodded, wondering what on Earth she had left to
do, thinking that perhaps it involved uncuffing Rich.

  I should have known.  She rose up and walked over to
where he still stood, handcuffed to the wall, and
reached down to run her hand lightly over his once
again erect dick.  "I may be a bitch," she breathed
softly to him, "but I'm not heartless.  And as much as
I'd love to leave you here with your dick all hard and
begging for release, Josh insists that I always finish
what I start."

  I insisted no such thing; I insisted in nothing from
her, except that which she willingly gave--her love for
me.  But I can tell when she wants me to play along, so
I stood there in silence as she took him into her
grasp, pointedly using only her thumb and forefinger
to stroke him.

  "You want to cum, don't you, Richie?  It got you
all hot and bothered, seeing what a great fuck I am,
and how good Josh can do me.  Well I won't let your
tiny prick inside of me, but slutty little Sarah will
at least help you cum."

  Her hand sped along his shaft, taking perhaps two
minutes until his hips started bucking as he sprayed
outward, his first spurt so powerful that several drops
landed on the tabletop 5 feet in front of him.  The
rest flew out to drop onto the dark carpeting, and
finally to form little puddles on his own shoes, and
the pants & panties piled around his feet.  Sarah
pulled her hand away and smiled briefly at him, then
took my hand and led me back towards the doorway.

  "Mmmmmfff!"  He started to panic and thrash around as
she walked away, fearing that she truly did intend to
leave him like that.  Sarah stopped on a dime.

  "Oh!  I almost forgot!", she said, walking back to
the table and picking up a small silver key.  "You
can't get out of the cuffs without this, can you?"

  "Mmmmf!", he nodded, his relief obvious even in the
dark room.  She strode confidently toward him, jerking
the tie/gag out of his mouth.  "Thank you!", he
breathed, laughing nervously.  "I thought for a second
you'd leave me here."

  Sarah smiled warmly at him.  "I couldn't just leave
you here like that!", she said, earning a very relieved
smile from the man.  She held the key up in front of
his face.  "Now, what do you say?"

  "Ple--"  That was all he got out before Sarah's hand
had darted to his lips and stuffed the key into his
mouth.  She turned smartly on her heel and walked with
a purpose back to me.

  "They have cleaning crews, right?", she asked with a
glint in her eye.

  "Ummm...yeah," I stuttered.  I couldn't believe that
she'd actually do that to him.

  "Then I'm sure someone will find him sooner or
later!", she smiled, pecking me on the cheek before
walking out of the room.

  "Ewe fuhing hlut!"  It was hard for him to talk
around the key, but we got the gist of it.

  Sarah poked her head back around the doorframe.  "I
am a slut," she purred to him, "and I'm going home
right now to fuck Josh some more.  Ta!"

  She had me lead her directly to the elevator, she not
wanting to walk the 35 floors down to the garage, while
I wasn't very enthusiastic about reappearing at the
party while Sarah clearly wore cumstains all over her
dress.  "Sarah, the cleaning crew might have already
done the boardroom!  He might be stuck there until
Monday morning!", I hissed to her as we waited for our
ride.

  She thought about it for a moment.  "But this is a
big company, and I'm sure at least one or two of these
executive types will be coming in tomorrow morning to
make some calls or catch up on work or whatever,
right?"

  "Well...probably, yeah," I admitted.

  "So there you go!  If it makes you feel better, we
can leave a note wherever the cleaning crew goes to
tend to the boardroom."

  I nodded.  "Hold the elevator if it comes!", I told
her, trotting over to a nearby receptionist's desk and
picking up the phone.  I dialed down to the main
security desk, giving them Rich's name when they
answered and telling the guards to make sure they
informed the cleaning crew to see to that particular
room.  The elevator had just arrived when I hung up
and rejoined Sarah.

  "All taken care of!", I smiled to her, suddenly
feeling better than I had in years.  Almost giddy,
even.  Almost...hell, almost the way I'd felt in high
school, when you could pull insane stunts like that
without having to worry about ending up penniless and
on the streets, or in some courtroom facing a lawsuit
or criminal charges.  I only had 3 days left at that
job anyway, so who cares if I got into trouble when
Rich was discovered?  And I was going to be a novelist
or freelance writer, so who gave a crap about
references?  In short, I suddenly felt like I had
options again.

  As soon as the elevator doors closed behind us and
we started riding downwards, Sarah was tugging off her
dress.  "What are you doing?", I asked, knowing full
well what but wondering why and to what aim.

  "It's got cum stains all over it," she told me, "and
besides, it's not like I'm ever going to wear *this*
dress again."  We both laughed at that--only if she
had the hem taken up by about a foot and a half and
the top pared down considerably would that dress have
fit in with her usual attire.  Sarah dropped the
garment unceremoniously into a corner of the elevator,
making the rest of the ride in nothing but her garter
belt, stockings, and heels.

  I wasn't worried that other people would get on the
elevator on our way down, as the entire building was
deserted save for the one floor where the party was
going on (and for one guy just above that, who wasn't
going anywhere), but there was the chance that we'd run
into someone else down in the parking garage, as it was
early enough for some people to just be arriving.  As
it turned out, we did--two other cars were circling
around as we walked to my car, Sarah just striding
confidently onward in the face of their amazed stares.
She even paused to wave at one gawking couple, pointing
them towards the space that we were about to vacate.
Getting home was just as much fun, as Sarah insisted on
staying with me while I hunted for a parking spot,
getting no closer than half a block away from our
building.  It was close to 11 PM by then and the
sidewalks were fairly empty, but I couldn't even begin
to count how many passing motorists got a good look at
Sarah's shivering and uncovered body while we ran the
rest of the way home.  But as Sarah said, she had to
make up for all the people who *hadn't* seen her naked
earlier in the night.

  The rest of the night was just as rewarding, though
spent at home.  We made up for that the next evening,
Saturday, when I sent Sarah out for one of her nights
on the town, during which she hooked up with two men
who claimed to be brothers, ending up at one of their
homes and getting doubleteamed for several hours.  It
was a banner night for both of us--Sarah has a thing
about fucking multiple men from the same family, as it
makes her feel particularly slutty, and I just plain
have a thing about seeing my girlfriend come home from
a night out with her body drenched in other mens' cum
and her pussy and ass well-fucked.

  Wednesday was my last day at work, as Thursday and
Friday of that week were paid holidays, and I was
practically skipping all day long.  It turned out that
Rich was indeed found by the cleaning crew later on
Friday night, who had immediately called security, who
had in turn called the big boss.  He wasn't fired, but
word around the office was that he would never see
another promotion within the company.  I felt a little
badly about it, but not very much--and it was obvious
that my coworkers weren't very bothered by Rich's fall
from grace, either.

  My supervisor told me that I could go ahead and knock
off early that afternoon, which I dutifully passed on
to Sarah via telephone--I didn't want her to feel bad
if she were still out getting laid when I got home.
I was just putting my last couple of knicknacks into a
cardboard box, before heading downstairs to turn in my
badge, when Sarah appeared at my cubicle.

  It was a particularly chilly day outside, and so she
was dressed in what passed for a cold weather ensemble
to my slutty girlfriend--a tight red sweater over her
braless tits, and a pair of skintight white stretch
pants, 3 inch heels on her feet and a long black coat
hanging loosely from her shoulders.  She gave me a long
kiss and then perched seductively on the corner of my
desk, proudly spreading her legs open to display the
very obvious wet spot on her crotch.

  "Jesus, Sarah!", I whispered urgently.

  She laughed.  "Suprise, baby!  Like the outfit?"

  "You're going to catch cold," I joked, shaking my
head slightly in disbelief.

  "I wanted to be sure that everyone knew your girl was
always ready for your cock," she teased me softly,
bending so her lips floated beside my ear.

  "I think you accomplished that mission," I chuckled.
"What do you have planned that got you so ready?"

  "Oh, I've got an idea.  But I'm mainly wet because I
was rubbing my cunt through my pants in the cab on my
way here."  She paused to smile at the shocked face of
one of my coworkers, who stammered out a good luck &
congratulations to me before hurrying off.  Sarah
laughed.

  I had to nix Sarah's initial plan, as difficult as
that was.  She'd gotten it into her head that she
wanted to give me a blowjob right there in my cubicle,
but I just couldn't run the risk of having someone call
security to escort us out of there, especially since I
still had to stop by the security desk to turn in my
badge.  She pouted a little, but she finally accepted
my explanation and accompanied me downstairs to the
lobby.  Okay, so she also insisted on rubbing herself
a little more during the elevator ride, and no, of
course we weren't alone when she did so.  That's just
my Sarah.

  I turned in the badge and signed a couple of forms to
say that I had, then we made our way down to the garage
and to my car.  Even if I hadn't had my wonderful girl
with me I'd have been on cloud nine--I was finally
bidding a last farewell to the building which had
haunted me day and night for the last 6 years.  I led
her quickly to the car, anxious to make our getaway
before some boss or another figured out a way to
prolong our departure.

  Sarah had other ideas, though.  "Don't open the door
yet," she ordered me when I pulled out my keys.  I
turned to see her shrugging the long coat off of her
shoulders and dropping it onto the hard parking
surface, smiling at me as she walked up to where I
stood beside the driver's door.  "We're not leaving
this building until I get your cum," she purred.

  "Sarah!"  I looked around--it was still about 90
minutes until quitting time, but on the afternoon
before a holiday, I was sure I wasn't the only
(former!) employee with clearance to leave early.  But
I didn't even bother to argue as her hands worked on my
belt; she didn't care if anyone saw us--probably hoped
that someone would--and I couldn't really form any
convincing arguments against her demand anyway.

  She freed my cock and looked up at me as she
crouched at my feet, her tongue swirling around the
head.  Sarah leaned forward slightly on her heels,
taking my glans between her lips and sucking hard while
she worked her hand up and down my length, moaning
lightly around my shaft.  She kept this up for several
minutes, during which time any fear of our discovery
had been pushed completely out of my head, and then
paused, leaning back again as my prick popped out from
between her lips.

  "We have to do this right," she said with a sultry
smile, reaching down to pull her tight sweater up over
first her tits, then her head.  She dropped it on the
ground next to her coat, her nipples forming rock-hard
points on her chest in the cool air of the garage.  I
just stared down in awe at my beautiful slut, crouched
below me in the company parking garage while wearing
nothing but her white stretch pants, her juices still
forming an obvious wet spot on her crotch, and the high
heels which sculpted her already shapely legs into
absolute works of art.

  Sarah went back to sucking me, picking up the pace as
we heard the elevator doors open and a pair of male
voices locked in conversation.  We were at least a
couple hundred feet away from the elevator entry,
Sarah's head hidden from view as she bobbed on my cock,
but there were vast stretches of the garage from which
anyone would be able to see quite clearly what was
going on.  She pulled her mouth free of me only long
enough to gasp up, "are they coming this way?"

  I kept my eyes towards the lift, eventually seeing
the two men walk briefly into view before turning away
from us and striding deeper into the garage.  "No," I
told her, hearing a stifled, disappointed moan from
around my rod.  Sarah kept sucking, though, harder and
faster as her hand alternately cupped my balls and
stroked my shaft.

  "Come on," she urged me, standing suddenly and
grasping my root firmly in her hand.  Sarah led me
around to the hood of my car, setting her gorgeous ass
delicately on the curved metal.  She tugged at me
incessantly, finally pulling me to where the fronts of
my thighs pressed firmly against the fender, between
her dangling legs, and my cock once again slid between
her waiting lips.

  Leave it to Sarah to up the ante yet again.  It
would now be nearly impossible for any person walking
or driving through this half of the garage to miss what
she was doing, nor the sight of her bare breasts,
swaying with her head movements.  I could feel myself
getting closer and closer with every urgent jerk of her
mouth, even as I heard a car start on the other side of
the lot.

  She kept right on sucking as we both heard the car
begin to move though the structure, tires squealing the
way they do in any parking garage, regardless of speed.
We heard it approaching quickly, Sarah picking up her
pace and moaning loudly as the engine noise grew
louder in our ears, until finally they sped by us two
rows over, heading for the exit.  I have no idea if my
two former co-workers saw us there or not, but if they
did, they didn't slow down.

  Sarah released my prick again, laying back across the
hood with her legs spread wide and smiling at me.  Her
hand slid down her body to cup her cunt, rubbing and
prodding it through the thin material of her pants.
"Josh," she breathed, "I want to cum.  And I want you
to jack off while you watch me."  She paused for a
moan.  "And when you cum, I want you to shoot it all
over my pants, right on my cunt.  Right on top of my
hand while I frig myself."

  I nodded dumbly, taking my cock in my hand and
stroking it quickly, her saliva forming a thick coat of
lubrication on my length.  Sarah smiled up at me while
I stared at her wanton display, watched as she tried to
push her finger into her pussy, still through her
pants.  Her juices shone clearly where they soaked
through the stretchy white material of her trousers.

  I heard more voices approaching from behind me,
almost drowned out by Sarah's moaning and pleas for my
cum, but I was way too close to shooting to even
contemplate stopping now.  I could see Sarah's body
tense, too, her other hand reaching up to pinch her
nipple harshly while she rubbed faster and harder on
her crotch.  I began to get excited at the thought of
being discovered like this, picturing in my mind the
sexy executive assistant that I often saw in the break
room, decked out as she always was in short business
skirts and heels.  I imagined her walking up to us,
staring in awe as I stroked my cock and watched my girl
frig herself to orgasm.  Then I didn't care who saw us,
heard the telltale clacking of a pair of heels on the
garage floor some way off, and started spraying Sarah
with my gism even as I heard the footsteps drawing
closer.

  I tried to hold my aim true and succeeded for the
most part, raining hot cum down onto Sarah's hand and
the crotch of her pants beneath it.  Some flew up onto
her bare midriff above, and a bit landed on her thighs
and the side of the car as well.  Sarah let out a loud
screech as her body began convulsing in an orgasm of
her own, even as her hand clawed desperately at her
cunt and my own cum splattered across her fingers.

  On some level I knew that her loud screams would only
serve to ensure that anyone else in the garage would
look over to investigate, but I didn't care.  I kept
stroking myself, spraying my seed onto Sarah's
thrashing and half-nude body, the orgasm incredibly
intense.  It didn't dawn on me at first that I could no
longer hear any footsteps behind us, at least until I
saw Sarah smile widely at something behind and to the
right of me, before pulling herself up into a sitting
position and enveloping my shriveling unit with her
mouth once again.

  I turned my torso slowly, cautiously, looking back
over my shoulder, and then shuddering as I saw what, or
rather who, my Sarah had smiled at.  It was indeed one
of the secretaries, though not the one I had thought of
moments earlier.  She was a small brunette, very quiet
and almost mousy in appearance and demeanor, and she
was standing at the end of the row of cars, perhaps
20 feet away from us, staring intently at Sarah and I.

  Her mouth hung open, her chest rising and falling
rapidly as she stood there, her eyes clearly locked
to a point about 3 feet below my own.  One hand cupped
her right breast through the coat she wore, her fingers
opening and closing randomly on the soft flesh
underneath.  Sarah moaned loudly as she slobbered on my
prick, a glance downward confirming that she had her
eyes locked on our bystander the whole time.

  Some of you may have wondered if Sarah is bisexual by
now, and it's a fair enough question.  The answer is
yes, of course, although not in a major way.  As I've
told you, Sarah loves to fuck, period, and her passion
for the activity knows no limits of race, color, creed,
or sex.  She much prefers men, truth be known, simply
because she adores feeling a warm, hard cock ramming
violently into her cunt or ass, but Sarah is also quite
happy with her face buried in another woman's muff;
especially if she's getting her cock at the same time.

  I knew that, then, and all sorts of visions were
dancing through my head as Sarah motioned the woman
closer to us, she slowly complying.  My girl stood up,
stretching before slinking over to the secretary and
whispering something into her ear.  The other woman
flushed, jerking her head shakily up and down, at which
point Sarah smiled like the cat with the canary and
whispered another question.  I heard a soft, meek "no,
I couldn't" from her, then saw her nod again and smile
nervously after Sarah said something else to her.  My
delightful little slut then leaned over and gave her a
soft kiss on her lips, before turning smartly and
striding back to where I was finally getting around to
tucking my dick back into my pants.

  "We have plans for Saturday night," she told me with
a smile.  Sarah stooped to pick up her coat and
sweater, not bothering to put them on, and stood at the
passenger door until I had recovered enough to unlock
the car and climb in myself.  She waved at the woman
who had seen us when we drove by her a minute later, on
our way out of the garage and home.

  "What kind of plans?", I finally asked, once we were
merged into traffic.  The thought occurred to me that
perhaps I should have the car windows tinted as I saw
one person after another gawk in amazement when they
saw Sarah sitting topless beside me.  Then again, why
spoil her fun?

  "I think you can guess," she purred to me, smiling
fiendishly.  God, I love this woman!
<1st attachment end>


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