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Message-ID: <51466asstr$1119867002@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "bonfils" <emale@bonfils.com>
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Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit
Subject: {ASSM} rp The Secretary (MMF, MF, nc, reluc, bd, mdom, oral, voy, mast)
Lines: 969
Date: Mon, 27 Jun 2005 06:10:02 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

From: http://www.tales-of-lust.com


THE SECRETARY
- by Bonfils

Mr. Bergman had helped Michelle carry her bags up to 
her room. In the lift down to the lobby, he 
apologized once more:

"You know, I'm really sorry about this," he said.

Michelle waved her hand.

"Don't be. It's no big deal."

And furthermore, Michelle thought, it wasn't even his 
fault.

Mr. Bergman had been invited to speak at the 
conference and had asked Michelle, his secretary, to 
come along. Whoever had been in charge of the hotel 
bookings had made a mistake and placed the two of 
them in separate hotels. 

As a result, Mr. Bergman now stayed at the airport 
Hilton, and had offered to escort Michelle to her 
hotel - a tourist-class accommodation in a seedy part 
of town.

"I'm glad you don't think so," Mr. Bergman said as 
they stepped out into the lobby. "But at least let me 
buy you a drink."

Michelle looked at him, smiling. She had been working 
for Mr. Bergman for three years and liked the job. 
He, too, seemed very satisfied. 

He was a handsome man, she thought, tall and dark, in 
his late thirties. As far as she could make out 
through the business suits he always wore, he was in 
great shape. And she was pretty sure he was single - 
just like her. 

Still, he had never responded to her in a sexual way. 

Too bad, really. Well - maybe she wasn't his type. 
Maybe he was being very professional about it. Or 
maybe - perish the thought - he was gay? Anyway, 
having a casual chat with Mr. Bergman over a drink 
would be nice. 

If he came on to her, she might actually consider 
sleeping with him. Otherwise, she could just go back 
to her hotel. If she had to sleep alone tonight, she 
had her vivid sexual fantasies to keep her company. 
Her current favorite - although she was ashamed to 
admit it - involved being raped by a gang of bikers.

Michelle's mind had drifted, and as the kinky images 
invaded her mind, she suddenly realized where she was 
- and that Mr. Bergman was actually waiting for an 
answer.

"Er, okay," she said, blushing. "Thanks."

"That's the least I can do," Mr. Bergman said. "And I 
know a nice place just a five minute walk from here."

They left the hotel and walked down the street, Mr. 
Bergman leading the way. Night was falling and the 
wet asphalt glistened in the glow of the 
streetlights.

"It really is a nice city," Mr. Bergman said. "Though 
it may be hard to tell."

Michelle looked around as they walked. The 
neighborhood seemed to consist mainly of run-down 
apartment blocks, the ground floors occupied by 
darkened bars, sex shops and other businesses to 
obscure to make out.

"It sure has, ummm... character," she said.

Mr. Bergman laughed. 

"You can say that again," he said. "But here we are - 
I'm sure this will be a pleasant surprise."

As they walked into the bar, Michelle agreed. Like 
the other bars in the area, this one was pretty dark 
- but in a very tasteful manner, decorated in dark 
woodwork and deep reds. The lighting was discrete, 
and the seating arranged in small booths, enabling 
guests to have at least a little privacy.

"It's nice," Michelle said.

"What are you having?" Mr. Bergman asked.

Michelle ordered a gin and tonic and sat down at 
their table as Mr. Bergman got the drinks at the bar. 
He returned with her drink and an imported beer for 
himself.

"Cheers," he said.

Michelle took a sip of her drink. God, she needed 
that. Due to endless delays at the airport, it had 
nearly taken them all day to get here. Michelle would 
be turning in early tonight - she was tired.

"So," she asked, "you knew this place? You've been 
here before?"

"Oh yeah," Mr. Bergman said. "A lot of these 
conferences take place here. So I've been here 
several times - but never before with such a lovely 
companion."

Michelle almost choked on her drink. Had he actually 
just said that? Mr. Bergman? Mr. Discretion himself? 
She coughed.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Mr. Bergman said. "I didn't mean 
to..."

"No, not at all," she gasped, coughing again. "Very 
nice of you to say that. I just never..."

She stopped. She couldn't really complain about his 
lack of sexual interest. Or could she?

"Michelle," he said quietly. "We have a work 
relationship. And if we had anything else, I believe 
it would make both our jobs far too complicated. 
Which doesn't mean that I can't appreciate female 
beauty when I see it. Am I making sense at all?"

Yeah, well, Michelle supposed he was. So he was being 
professional about it. Damn. Looked like she'd spend 
the night in the company of the hotel mini bar and 
her biker fantasy.

"You're making perfect sense," she said, forcing a 
smile. "Sometimes I just wish we didn't have that 
work relationship - that we were more like normal 
people."

Mr. Bergman laughed.

"You know," he said, "I shouldn't really say this - 
but I know what you mean."

Michelle laughed, too - sincerely this time.

They finished their drinks and Mr. Bergman bought 
another round. They chatted about this and that, but 
Michelle was tired and found her mind drifting off 
towards her hotel bed, the mini bar - and the biker 
fantasy.

"Thank you for the drinks," she said, "but I really 
must be getting to bed. It's been a long day."

"It sure has," Mr. Bergman said.

They both got up and left the bar.

Back on the street, Mr. Bergman hailed a cab for 
himself.

"Will you be okay?" he asked.

"Sure," Michelle said. "Like you said, it's only a 
five minute walk. And the night air will do me good."

"Okay," he said, getting into the cab. "See you 
tomorrow."

"Bye," she called.

The cab drove away. Michelle looked around and 
started walking back the way they'd come.

The street was empty, and just a bit too quiet. The 
combination of streetlights and neon lights was 
hardly enough to illuminate the neighborhood. 
Michelle shivered and kept walking.

She had expected to check into the airport Hilton 
along with Mr. Bergman and was dressed accordingly: 
In her short black skirt, loose white blouse and high 
heels. She had let her long, blonde hair down and 
looked stunning: A beautiful, young woman of twenty-
four walking through the dark, deserted streets at 
night.

At the next intersection, she stopped for a second. 
They'd made a turn somewhere. Was it here? Yes, she 
told herself. It must be. And no - she wasn't lost.

Michelle turned right, down another darkened street, 
trying to convince herself that this was the right 
direction. And that's when she heard them.

Footsteps.

She didn't dare stop or turn around. Don't panic, she 
told herself. It's probably nothing. Just keep on 
walking.

So she did. And the footsteps - somehow she knew it 
was a man's footsteps - kept getting closer. And as 
she stopped at a pedestrian crossing, they stopped, 
too!

Michelle tried hard not to panic, but this was wrong. 
Completely wrong. And suddenly she wondered: Had 
there been one or two sets of footsteps?  As the light 
turned to green, she walked briskly to the other 
side, the footsteps still following her. She 
increased her pace, and they followed, getting ever 
closer. And - oh God - there were two men following 
her.

Michelle ran, but she heard the two men closing in 
behind her. Oh no, she thought, oh no... She was 
panting with exhaustion, and as the men got closer, 
she could hear their breathing, too. Please, she 
thought...

And then a strong hand grabbed her arm. Michelle 
screamed.

"Shut up," a rough voice said as another hand grabbed 
her other arm. "You just come along here."

The men dragged her into an alley, surrounded on 
three sides by tall brick walls. The asphalt 
glistened, lit by a single, naked light bulb on one 
of the walls. A huge motorcycle was parked just below 
it.

For the first time, Michelle caught a glimpse of her 
capturers. They were tough-looking biker types. One 
of them was tall and blond, his hair in a long 
ponytail. The other was short and squat, completely 
bald, but with a neatly trimmed black beard. Both of 
them were dressed in jeans, t-shirts and leather 
jackets.

"Please," she whimpered.

"Come here," the tall man ordered, making her face 
the wall and pushing her up against it.

Michelle felt the rough brick wall against her cheek 
and shivered. The strong hand held her in place. She 
couldn't move.

"Let me go," she pleaded.

"There, there, honey," the other man said, his voice 
deep and hoarse. "We're not gonna hurt you."

"No," the tall man said, "we're just going to play 
with you."

Michelle groaned. Then, she felt his hands between 
her thighs, strong, rough hands, moving towards her 
crotch.

"No!" she said, trying to break free.

She felt another pair of hands on her shoulders, 
forcing her up against the wall: The bald guy had 
come to his friend's aid. She sighed. This was 
hopeless.

She felt the fingers pushing against the fabric of 
her panties, pulling them aside. As a rough finger 
touched her labia, she gasped.

"No. Please," she whispered.

The finger began moving against her flesh, massaging 
her. Gently, the biker rubbed his finger rhythmically 
against her pussy lips, probing at her sex. Michelle 
closed her eyes as the biker kept massaging her slit, 
gradually slipping his fingertip into her pussy.

"No. Stop it..." she whimpered.

As the two men pinned her against the wall, Michelle 
felt the finger entering her again and again, 
exploring her reluctant crevice. And (oh God, this 
can't be happening)...

... she was getting wet.

Once again, Michelle struggled to break free. But the 
two men merely applied even more force and held her 
still, fixated up against the brick wall.

"P-p-please," she sobbed.

Love juice wet the biker's finger, as it gently poked 
Michelle's flesh. Slowly, a fraction of an inch at a 
time, it slipped further and further into her moist 
flesh. In a slow, sensuous rhythm, the biker 
masturbated her pussy with his finger.

Then, she felt his thumb reaching around to touch her 
clit. Michelle jumped as he found it and gently began 
circling his thumb around the base of her love 
button. Fucking her with one digit and massaging her 
clit with his thumb, the biker made Michelle squirm 
and moan with pleasure.

"Stop it! Stop it!" she sobbed.

"I think she likes it," the bald man said.

"No," she whimpered, ashamed - though in fact she was 
close to an orgasm.

What was happening? Why would this turn her on? She 
was a well-paid secretary, working for an important 
executive. And being raped by two creeps in a dark 
alley turned her on?

And suddenly she realized: This was her fantasy. Her 
biker fantasy had unexpectedly come true. Not like a 
dream, but as a nightmare. But still: Close enough to 
her fantasy to make her excited against her will.

Something soft and wet touched her labia. Oh God, 
Michelle thought, it was his tongue. The biker was 
licking her pussy. She heard him slurping at her wet 
flesh as his tongue lapped up her juice. Greedily, he 
licked and sucked at her tender cunt.

Michelle closed her eyes and rested her cheek against 
the rough brick wall. She gave in to the sensations 
of pleasure and let the biker lick her pussy. He 
seemed to sense her surrender. Grunting, he began 
sucking at her slit with even greater vigor, drinking 
the wetness from her excited crevice.

"Ahhh," she sighed.

The bald man grabbed her long blonde hair, pulling 
her head back.

"Look at me," he ordered, and Michelle opened her 
eyes. His eyes were gleaming, mad with excitement.

"Yeah, I knew you'd like it," he grinned.

"I..." Michelle began.

"You nasty little slut," the bald man said. "Boy, are 
we gonna have fun with you tonight."

Then, she heard the sound of a zipper opening.

"Spread your legs," the man behind her said. "Spread 
them wide."

As Michelle hesitated, she felt his hands grabbing 
the insides of her thighs pushing her legs apart. She 
steadied herself against the wall. The bald man held 
her shoulders, keeping her still.

"Okay," he said. "Go ahead."

Michelle's head was spinning. She knew what was next, 
and sure enough: Soon she felt his fingers pulling 
the crotch of her panties aside. And then something 
warm and swollen pushed hard against her pussy - the 
tall man's erect cock.

"Yeah," he said. "Open wide, baby. Here comes my 
cock."

"Ahhh," she moaned as he pushed forward, forcing the 
tip of his tool into her cunt.

It felt big, wide and hard, as it poked her. But she 
was wet now, very wet, and inch-by-inch the bulging 
cock entered her slit, slowly opening her tender 
flesh.

"Oh God," she whispered. "Oh God."

The biker grabbed her ass-cheeks and pulled back. 
Then he thrust forward again, impaling Michelle on 
his rigid cock.

"Aaah!" she cried.

Again and again the biker lunged forward, thrusting 
his excited cock in and out of her slit with fast and 
powerful strokes.

"Unh! Unh!" he grunted, fucking her hard up against 
the wall.

Michelle's entire body shook. The biker hammered into 
her sex with animal savagery - and she was excited, 
excited as hell. She was being raped, but it felt so 
good, she never wanted him to stop. She wanted him to 
keep going, to fuck her like the filthy animal he 
was.

"Ohhh..." she groaned.

She heard another zipper opening and saw the bald man 
holding his erect cock. It was about average length, 
but very fat. The bald man began stroking his cock as 
he watched his friend fuck Michelle.

"Yeah," he shouted, masturbating. "Fuck her hard. 
Make her come."

He grabbed her by the hair again.

"Are you coming, slut?" he hissed.

And yes, Michelle realized she was. A powerful orgasm 
was building up inside her, ready to knock her off 
her feet. She bit her lip, fighting the urge to 
scream out loud with pleasure. 

The tall man leaned over her, still vigorously 
hammering his cock into her pussy.

"Come for me, baby," he whispered into her ear. "You 
know you want to."

Michelle sobbed helplessly, fixing her gaze on the 
bald man's cock. He obviously enjoyed showed off his 
erect cock to her, letting her watch as he 
masturbated - shamelessly.

"Ohmigod," she gasped. 

It was happening. No stopping it now.

A few more times the tall man's rigid cock thrust 
into her juicy cunt, and then - she came.

"Aaah!" she cried. "Aaah!"

It was a powerful orgasm. For a split second she was 
unaware of anything but the gigantic rush of pleasure 
pulsing through her helpless body. Her sex kept 
oozing juice, drenching the fat cock inside her.

"Yeah," the tall man grunted. 

He had slowed down his pace a bit, but was still 
fucking her deep and hard. His cock slid smoothly in 
and out of her, making little wet noises.

Eventually he pulled out, letting Michelle stand by 
herself. She leaned against the wall, trembling.

"Oh God," she whispered.

"You can thank us later," the tall man said. "Now get 
down on your hands and knees."

Michelle turned her head, looking at him. She didn't 
understand.

"You heard the man," the bald guy said, his stiff 
cock sticking out of his jeans and jerking slightly 
up and down. "Get down!"

Michelle looked down at the wet asphalt, rough and 
shiny, lit by the light bulb on the wall. She 
couldn't. She was a well-paid secretary, working for 
a very important executive. No way was she going to 
lie on her hands and knees on that dirty piece of 
asphalt.

Finally, the tall man pushed her hard, making her 
fall to the ground. 

"Oooh!" she screamed, as she landed on her hands and 
knees. 

The rough asphalt felt cold and wet on her bruised 
skin. Michelle looked up at the two men. They were 
grinning widely. For a second she considered getting 
up, but that would be futile: They would just push 
her back down. They had her just the way they wanted 
her, and there was nothing she could do about it.

The bald man knelt down behind her. His rough hands 
lifted up her short skirt and began peeling off her 
panties. Moaning helplessly, Michelle lifted up her 
knees one by one, as he removed her panties and threw 
them on the wet asphalt.

She was now lying on her hands and knees in the 
alley, her naked ass exposed to the bald biker behind 
her. And soon, she felt the tip of his cock touching 
her cunt. The other man knelt down in front of her 
face, pointing his glistening wet cock at her mouth.

"Open wide," he gasped.

Michelle felt the bald biker's cock pushing slowly 
into her slit from behind. She was very wet, but to 
yield to the huge girth of his tool she had to spread 
her legs as wide as she could, feeling her sex muscle 
stretch as he entered her.

As she opened her mouth, the tall man slid his cock 
in between her lips. She noticed the taste of her own 
juices on his rigid cock. Excited, Michelle sucked on 
the head of his tool, her mouth rhythmically 
massaging the bulbous helmet.

"Yeah," the biker groaned. "Suck my cock."

The bald man had now buried the entire length of his 
hard shaft in her tender insides. Grunting, he began 
thrusting into her, pumping his fat tool into her 
pussy. He was relentless. Over and over, he hammered 
his thick cock all the way into her stretching flesh.

The tall man looked down at his cock, sliding it 
slowly in and out of Michelle's mouth. He seemed to 
love watching it glisten, slick and wet from her 
saliva.

"Make it wet," he whispered. "Make it nice and wet."

Obediently, Michelle slobbered all over the shaft, 
covering his cock with her spit. She felt his tool 
growing harder and harder as he slowly moved his cock 
in and out of her mouth.

The bald man grabbed her ass, stabbing away at her 
cunt, grunting like an animal. 

"You like that, huh?" he said. "Like to feel my fat 
cock inside your pussy?"

"Mmm!" she cried, her voice stifled by the tall man's 
cock filling her mouth.

But yes, she realized: She loved it. It was hard for 
Michelle to admit to herself that being raped gave 
her such immense pleasure, but her first orgasm had 
weakened her defenses. And as the bald man kept 
thrusting his fat tool into her slippery slit, she 
felt another one approaching.

Michelle's body was trembling. The tall man slowly 
slid his stiff cock all the way out of her mouth, the 
shaft glistening with her saliva.

"Oh God," she gasped, as the bald man's savage 
fucking brought her ever closer to another climax. 
"Oh God." 

The tall man grinned, slowly sliding his cock in 
between her wet lips again.

"Keep going," he called out to his buddy. "The little 
slut is gonna come again."

This seemed to excite the bald man even more. 
Brutally, he drove the entire length of his hardened 
cock into Michelle's tender flesh. Again and again he 
thrust into her, uttering inarticulate grunts of pure 
animal lust.

"Hunh!" he yelled in time with his powerful strokes. 
"Hunh! Hunh!"

Her head was spinning. Yes - she was about to come. 
She was about to come right now. It was as if she was 
no longer the well-paid secretary - she was a horny 
slut, a biker chick. On her hands and knees in a dark 
alley, fucked by two bikers, one cock in her cunt and 
one in her mouth. God, it turned her on...

"Mmm!"

Michelle tried to scream, as the orgasm hit her, her 
entire body tensing up, overcome with pleasure. 
Grinning, the tall man removed his cock from her 
mouth, saliva dripping from the rigid shaft onto the 
asphalt.

"Aaah!" she screamed, shivering uncontrollably.

She felt the bald man's cock swelling inside her 
cunt, as he kept thrusting it into her. He was about 
to come, too.

"Yeah!" he yelled.

To her surprise, he suddenly pulled his cock out of 
her pussy. She heard him grunting behind her, 
apparently masturbating, because suddenly the first 
hot spurt of semen landed on her ass.

"Huhhh!" he roared.

Again and again, his pumping cock shot sperm all over 
her, landing on her naked ass-cheeks. The biker 
shouted out loud with pleasure, long creamy jets 
flying from his cock, spattering her ass.

Is it getting on my clothes, too? Michelle thought. 
Oh God, please don't let him stain my blouse...

The tall man was masturbating, too, vigorously 
stroking his erect cock as he watched them. The sight 
of his buddy ejaculating all over Michelle finally 
brought him off.

"Yeah," he whispered hoarsely. "Here I go, baby."

He poked his swelling cock against her lips. He 
wanted to come in her mouth.

Reluctantly, Michelle parted her lips, letting him 
slide it inside. As his cock made contact with the 
soft wet insides of her mouth, it immediately 
exploded.

"Ahhh!" he yelled, as his cock pumped the first spurt 
of semen into her mouth. "Swallow! Take it all!"

Michelle gulped, drinking down the spicy taste of the 
tall man's semen. His jerking cock kept squirting its 
thick liquid into her mouth. She tried her best to 
swallow it all, but there was too much. Creamy semen 
trickled down her chin, dripping onto the asphalt.

Finally, his ejaculation subsided, and he slid the 
warm, slippery cock out of Michelle's mouth.

The two men stood in front of her, zipping up. She 
thought that maybe now they'd let her go. But then 
she realized: That was not what she wanted them to 
do. She wanted more, wanted them to rape her again.

The tall man pulled her to her feet and held her 
tight. 

"Oh yes," she heard herself whisper. "Don't stop."

The bald man walked up to her and ripped open her 
blouse, pulling it off and throwing it on the ground. 
She thought she saw specks of semen on it, but she 
wasn't sure. Next, the bald man tore off her bra and 
her skirt. 

Michelle was now naked, except for her high-heeled 
shoes, her beautiful body lit by the single light 
bulb in the alley. The bald man pinched one of her 
nipples with two fingers. The nipple was already 
hard. God, she was horny. She just wanted them to 
fuck her again - fuck her hard and come all over her.

The two men grabbed Michelle's arms and pulled her 
towards the motorcycle. They placed her on her back 
on the seat, pulling her hands toward the handlebars. 
The leather seat felt cold against her naked back.

"Please," she whimpered. "Fuck me again."

The tall man laughed fiendishly.

"Hehe," he said. "Crazy bitch."

"You're gonna get what's coming to you," the bald man 
sneered. "Don't worry."

Michelle saw that he was holding a roll of duct tape. 
Seconds later, he was taping her right wrist to the 
handlebar of the motorcycle. And then, he taped her 
left wrist, too. Michelle tugged at the tape, but it 
was no use: She was tied up. Naked and tied to a 
motorcycle.

"Beautiful," a voice said. "Well done, guys."

Michelle stirred. It wasn't one of the bikers 
talking. It was someone else, and... she knew that 
voice. Looking up, she saw a figure appearing from 
the shadows of the alley. 

It was Mr. Bergman.

"Oh God," she whimpered.

She had already been raped by two bikers. And now, as 
she lay tied to their motorcycle, naked, her boss had 
to walk in on them. Her boss, whom she had lusted 
after for years.

Still, all Michelle could think off was: When were 
they going to fuck her again? She wanted them to rape 
her once more. Surely, Mr. Bergman would enjoy 
watching that. Or maybe...

Zzzip!

Mr. Bergman opened the fly of his business suit, and 
his erect cock popped out. It was quite long and 
extremely hard. He must have been watching, as the 
bikers fucked her. Michelle could hardly imagine him 
doing something like that. 

Mr. Bergman walked towards the motorcycle and stood 
between Michelle's legs, his stiff cock pointing 
towards her pussy. By now, she was beside herself 
with lust, wanting to be fucked by anyone. Anyone - 
but Mr. Bergman would be wonderful.

"Ohhh," she whispered. "Fuck me, please..."

She wanted to touch herself, wanted to masturbate in 
front of him. But her hands were tied to the 
handlebars with duct tape. And all she could do was 
spread her trembling legs, offering him her succulent 
cunt. She felt her juices trickling down the insides 
of her thighs onto the leather seat.

Mr. Bergman just stood there, his excited cock 
jerking slightly. The bikers came closer, curious.

"You want this cock?" Mr. Bergman asked.

"Oh yes," Michelle gasped. "Please..."

"Very well, then," Mr. Bergman said. "Let's go to my 
hotel room."

Michelle couldn't believe her ears. In her hyper-
excited state, she couldn't imagine waiting even a 
few minutes. She wanted his cock now.

"No!" she cried. "I didn't... no..."

"I'm sorry," Mr. Bergman said, smiling. "I don't 
understand. What is it you want?"

Naked, tied to the bikers' motorcycle, Michelle was 
on the verge of tears from lust.

"Fuck me right now," she begged. "Let them watch. I 
don't care. In fact, I want them to watch as you fuck 
me. Just give me that big, hard cock right now! I'm 
so horny, I can't wait any longer..."

Mr. Bergman was grinning. With one hand, he grabbed 
his erect cock, guiding it towards the entrance to 
Michelle's pussy.

"That sure sounds like an invitation," he said. 
"Alright, baby. Here it comes."

And with one enormous thrust, he slid his long, hard 
cock all the way into Michelle's dripping wet cunt.

"Aaah!" she cried.

Oh God, she thought, this is heaven - this is bliss. 
At the height of her excitement, she was fucked by 
the man of her dreams. Her next climax could be 
imminent, but she wanted to savor every second.

"All right, Michelle," Mr. Bergman said. "This is it. 
I'm gonna fuck you like you've never been fucked 
before. Do you hear me?"

He let his cock slide all the way out, and then 
rammed it in again with one powerful stroke. Over and 
over, he stabbed her with his bone-hard tool, making 
her moan with pleasure.

The two bikers stood around the motorcycle, watching 
the scene with glazed eyes. Slowly, they unzipped 
their jeans and took out their semi-erect cocks. As 
Mr. Bergman kept fucking his naked, bound secretary, 
they began to masturbate.

Michelle bit her lip, realizing that she was about to 
come again already. Her tender pussy impaled by the 
rhythmic thrusts of Mr. Bergman's cock, she felt the 
pleasure building inside her body, finally reaching 
an explosive high.

"Aaah!" she screamed, as she climaxed.

Michelle didn't know if she had ever come this hard. 
Shivering and squirming, she gave in to the sensation 
of pure physical ecstasy.

Mr. Bergman never stopped fucking her. He slowed down 
the pace slightly, his rigid tool moving in and out 
of her slick cunt. One hand kneading her breast, he 
began gently massaging the base of her clit with his 
other thumb.

Michelle whimpered helplessly, tears of joy flowing 
down her cheeks. The bikers stood next to her face, 
masturbating at the sight. After witnessing 
Michelle's violent orgasm, their cocks had once more 
become hard as steel.

The bald man put his cock to her mouth and tried to 
push her lips apart with his fingers.

"Don't!" Mr. Bergman said. "She's not gonna suck you 
now. I want to watch her face as I fuck her. Eh, 
Michelle. Do you like that?"

"I love it," she whispered. "Don't stop."

As Mr. Bergman's stiff tool pounded into her sex, it 
was as if her last orgasm had never really subsided. 
But already, she felt the sensations of pleasure 
building towards a new climax.

"Oh, God," she sobbed. "Oh, please..."

Michelle felt that her next orgasm would be so 
powerful she'd faint. She wanted him to stop - she 
couldn't take anymore. And yet, the excitement was 
too great. If she didn't get her release, it would 
drive her insane.

She struggled feebly on the seat of the motorcycle, 
the bikers slowly masturbating, as Mr. Bergman's long 
hard cock entered her cunt again and again. Pinching 
her nipple and stroking her clit, he fucked her 
relentlessly, driving his throbbing shaft in and out 
her slit in a hard demanding rhythm.

"Yeah," he whispered. "Feel my cock inside you."

Drops of sweat formed on his forehead. He was fucking 
her with all his strength. Michelle screamed out 
loud, as she felt what was happening. Mr. Bergman's 
fat tool thrust a few more times into the wet depths 
of her pussy.

And she came again.

"Aaah!" she cried, throwing herself about on the 
leather seat, her tied hands pulling helplessly at 
the duct tape. "Aaah!" 

"Fucking hell!" the bald man cried. 

Clenching his bulging cock inside his fist, he 
ejaculated immediately. The first long jet of sperm 
shot out of his swollen cock, flying across 
Michelle's face and landing on her left breast. As 
semen kept pumping out of his twitching tool, the 
tall biker climaxed, too.

"Yeah!" he yelled, watching his cock jerking 
rhythmically, as he came.

For some time, Michelle watched as the two cocks 
ejaculated across her body. Powerful spurts of hot 
biker sperm squirted from their hard rods, spattering 
her flushed skin with creamy white stains.

"Unnnh!" Mr. Bergman yelled.

Michelle felt his cock swelling inside her cunt, as 
he froze in mid-thrust.

"Oh yes," she whispered, wanting to feel him coming 
inside her. "Give it to me!"

"Fuck!" he cried as the first jet of semen shot deep 
into Michelle's pussy.

He grabbed her thighs, pushing his twitching cock all 
the way inside her. She felt it pumping thick, hot 
sperm into her tender cunt, filling her insides with 
his lusty cream.

"Yes," she whispered, shivering with pleasure.

Mr. Bergman's orgasm seemed to go on forever, 
unloading an unbelievable amount of semen inside 
Michelle's cunt. But finally, the spurts became 
weaker, and he slid his glistening, wet cock out of 
her slit.

"That was wonderful," she whispered. "Really."

The bikers zipped up and untied her without a word. 
She was still in a daze. She couldn't believe this 
had happened. Couldn't believe that her boss had been 
behind it all. And most of all, she couldn't believe 
how much pleasure it had given her. Hell, tonight had 
been the best sex of her life.

Mr. Bergman smiled at her, relaxed. As Michelle sat 
up on the motorcycle seat, the tall biker wrapped a 
big towel around her.

"Of course," the bald man said, "we'll pay for the 
clothes we ruined."

Michelle looked at him blankly. Oh yes, she was 
naked. But she had forgotten all about her clothes. 
Now she saw them, scattered all over the wet asphalt 
in the alley.

Mr. Bergman nodded, slowly tucking his soft cock into 
his suit pants and zipping up.

"Of course," he said.

Michelle looked around.

"But..." she stuttered. "Can you help me get back to 
my hotel?"

"Your hotel?" Mr. Bergman asked, grinning. "No need 
for that."

"Sorry?"

"I managed to change my reservation. We now have a 
double room at my hotel, if that's okay with you."

"Oh, thank you," Michelle gasped, throwing her naked 
arms around Mr. Bergman.

"Will you call a cab?" he asked. And one of the 
bikers produced a cell phone.

Minutes later, the cab drove up. As Michelle entered, 
wearing only high heels and towel, the driver looked 
puzzled, and then shook his head. Mr. Bergman climbed 
into the back seat, next to Michelle. As they drove 
off, she saw the two bikers waving at them.

As Mr. Bergman smiled at her, she smiled back. She 
briefly wondered whether this was going to have any 
consequences, job-wise.

Then she realized one thing:

With sex like this, she couldn't care less.

---
(c) Bonfils 2003
http://www.tales-of-lust.com

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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