The attached work of fiction is intended to be entertainment for adults in locations where it is
legal.  If it is illegal in your location, DO NOT read.  This is a copyrighted work.  Reposting or
any other use strictly prohibited without the express, written permission of the copyright holder,
except may be posted as part of a  review or posted to free-access, noncommercial archive sites. 

Copyright 1999 by E. Z. Riter. 

E-mail address: ezriter@hotmail.com      

Please!        Give me your comments!


TRUST

My wife, Denise, had been very agitated lately.  Something was bothering her, but my inquiries
were deflected out-of-hand.  Since nothing seemed wrong between us, I told myself it was work
related.  When she came home Thursday night, her anxiety had reached a new peak.

"What's going on?" 

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

Five years ago when she was nineteen, Denise went to work for a large privately owned
company.  Smart, a hard worker and good looking, she'd been promoted from the typing pool
through the ranks.  A month ago, she was selected to be one of the three executive assistants to
Mr. J. Woodward Chase, the billionaire owner.    

The promotion had three unusual job requirements.  She had to dye her hair blonde, maintain her
figure, and Mr. Chase would select and pay for all her work clothing.  The clothes he selected
were demure, classy and expensive with an elegant, understated sexiness.  Denise looked good as
a blonde.  She'd inherited a narrow waisted, full breasted figure from her mother which required
little diet and exercise to maintain.  The clothes made her look even better.

"I want you to listen to everything I have to say, Danny.  Don't get up and run off.  Okay?"

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

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

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

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

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

"He can trust me.  I treat everything like it was top secret.  I always have.  I would've had more
friends among the secretaries if I'd shared gossip from time to time, but I never did.  Trust is very
important to me."

"You are very trustworthy."

"Yes, I am and so are you.  That's one of the things I've always admired about you.  Trust is the
cornerstone of a marriage as well as a business relationship, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is," I said.

"About a year ago I heard a rumor Mr. Chase had a mistress who gave birth to three children by
him.  I didn't believe it.  All rich men have wild stories floating around about them, you know,
about women or crooked deals or whatever."

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

"As an executive assistant, I see his personal, confidential files, things no one else sees.  Some of
these files relate to that rumor.  The rumor's true.  His mistress gave birth to three of his children. 
Only, Danny, it's not one mistress - it's four.  Four women have had his children out of
wedlock."

"You're kidding me."

"No, I'm not.  It's true.  Mr. Chase has nineteen children, seven with his wife and three each by
four other woman.  I wondered why any man would want so many.  I did some reading.  Many
anthropologists think all men have a deep biological urge to impregnate as many women as
possible."

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

"Mr. Chase certainly does.  He's very intelligent, physically large and powerful, and rich, so if all
that's the result of good genes, his must be very good." 

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

"Yes, there are.  All sorts of things are genetically based.  Life expectancy is inherited, in part
anyway, as are heart attacks, cancers, and a whole bunch of other diseases."

"I'd never really thought about it.  I must have some good genes, too.  Everybody in my family
lives into their seventies."

"My family's even longer lived, but nothing compared to Mr. Chase.  He's fifty-three.  His
father's going strong at seventy-two and his grandfather's ninety-four.  His great-grandfather died
at one hundred three.  Old Mr. Chase has a forty-year-old girl friend, so even that works, I
suspect." 

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

"Women have a tougher time of it.  We're the givers of birth and the ones who raise the young. 
The future of the species depends upon how well we do our job.  Women have to select a man to
love and who loves them, someone who will care for them and help care for their children. And
we have to select the right man to impregnate us so the children'll carry the best possible genes."

The tingle exploded into tremors.  

"What does that mean?"

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

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

"That's true, but I've been thinking about it a lot lately.  I'm ready now.  I want to be pregnant."

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

She leaned forward.  Her eyes were pin points of intensity.  "Do you trust me, Danny?  Do you
trust me with your life and your future?" 

"Yes."

"Then you must trust me on this, too, because it's our future.  Ours and our children.  You must
trust my instinct to do what's best for all of us."

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

"My instinct, my gut-level female intuition, tells me to select the best male for loving, living
with, and nurturing my children.  That's you.  It's always been you.  I love you, Danny. Trust me
on that. "

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

"Those same instincts tell me to choose the best possible gene pool to impregnate me.  Danny,
Mr. Chase wants me to be his fifth mistress and have three children by him.  He asked me
Wednesday."

"Go on," I croaked.

"I accepted.  I'll become his mistress and have his three children.  I know it's the best thing for
the children and for us."

"Do you love him?"  

"No!  Trust me, Danny.  This isn't love.  This is biology and genetics.  I don't want to spend my
life with him."

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

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

"Is it about sex?"

"What do you mean?"

"Have you had sex with him?"

"No, of course not."

"Has he asked you to do it?"

"No, he hasn't."

"Do you want to?"

"I must have sex with him in order to have his children.  That's what this is about, having
children."

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

"Danny, don't you trust me?"

"Of course I do."

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

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

"We'll have three children."

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

"I knew what you meant, but it's important you realize these three will be yours.  Your nurturing
will help mold them. I don't think we should have more than three.  That'll be enough."

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

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

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

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

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

"If you don't trust me, how can I trust you?  I can't let a man I don't trust help me raise my
children.  It's too important."

She yawned and stretched, letting her robe open to treat me to a view of her body.  "I'm ready for
bed, honey.  Please come hold me."

That was as demonstrative as Denise ever got in asking for sex.  We made love as we always did. 
I played with her until she warmed up.  She brought her knees up, letting me enter her.  I pumped
away until my orgasm came.  She put a towel between her legs and rolled over, her back to me,
and went to sleep.  We did it that way twice a week, sometimes three.  

I sometimes wondered if she really liked sex.  She assured me she almost always orgasmed.  I
could feel the contractions of her pussy on my cock, hear her breathing change and feel the
elevation of her body heat, so I believed her.  But where was the explosion?  Where were the
sweat, the moaning and the other signs?  Where was the ecstasy and passion?  

Maybe that was it.  Maybe I wasn't sexually pleasing her and that's why she wanted to accept
Mr. Chase's offer.  Maybe it was pure lust.  She slept soundly beside me as I thought about the
bombshell she'd dropped on me that night.  It was early morning when sleep finally came.  I
wished a decision had come with it.

Denise awakened me the next morning.  "We have a four o'clock appointment this afternoon
with Mr. Chase.  He'll explain the financial arrangements to you."

"What financial arrangements?"

"Of me being his mistress.  Have a good day, honey.  I'll see you at four and don't you dare be
late."  She kissed me on the cheek and left me with the same thoughts I'd had all night.

I arrived at three fifty-five dressed in my best suit.  Their offices were on the top floor of a major
office building.  I went to the thirty-third floor, cleared security, changed elevators and continued
to the top.  The floor receptionist passed me to the receptionist for Mr. Chase. 
  
Denise was beaming when she came out.  She took both my hands and kissed me on the cheek.
"I'm so glad you're here.  You don't understand how valuable Mr. Chase's time is.  His meeting
with us is quite an honor."

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

"Danny, many women would love to have an offer like this.  He picked us and it's our honor. 
Now be on your best behavior."

Mr. Chase was standing beside a large conference table covered in documents.  Two men and
two women were with him.  "His key men and the other E.A.s," Denise whispered.  Both the
women were very attractive, blonde, built, and beautifully dressed, just like Denise.  I wondered
if either of them had been offered the "honor" he offered us.

J. Woodward Chase was what I expected.  Physically imposing, immaculately groomed, he was a
large man, thick and barrel chested as well as tall.  He greeted me warmly and started small talk
to put me at ease.  If he had special feelings for Denise, they didn't show.  I was surprised I liked
him in spite of the situation.  I knew I'd respect and, maybe, fear him.  Liking him was a plus. 
Finally, he turned to the topic at hand.

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

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

"That's the emotional bottom line," he said with a smile.  "Let me tell you about the financial
bottom line.  Do you know what a trust is?"

"Not really."

"A trust is a legal agreement which transfers assets to a trustee for the benefit of someone," he
began.  I listened closely as he explained the agreement establishing a trust for Denise, me and
the three children of his she would bear.  When I looked at her, she was smiling happily and
appeared unconcerned about the financial ramifications.  I wondered if she'd been over them
previously or if her motivation was non-financial.

"In addition, I'll bonus out one hundred thousand dollars after tax to Denise on the day the
agreement's signed to be used as down payment on a new house and its furnishings," Mr. Chase
concluded.

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

"Before taxes, about two hundred thousand a year.  That's a four per cent return on the five
million trust principle."

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

Maybe that was it.  Maybe it was the money because there was a lot of it in this trust.  I was
making sixty thousand a year.  Two hundred thousand more seemed like a dream.  When the trust
terminated, Denise, the three children and I would have a million in cash each.  It was mind-
boggling.

"The reason for the trust, Dan, is to provide a good life style for my children and their mother.  I
wouldn't bring a child into the world and not provide for them financially.  Denise would
continue to work here until she became pregnant with the first child.  After that, her
responsibility would be raising those kids.  Part of the agreement would be that you continue to
work.  I want a stable, normal household for them."

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

"I want the best for my children and their family, Dan.  Trust me when I say I'll never intrude
upon their lives, but I'll be there if wanted or needed."

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

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

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

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

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

"Dan, I thought you understood that.  She'll be my mistress.  I'll have sex with her when and
where I want.  It won't be just to impregnate her.  If we agree to this, we'll have sex immediately. 
After about a year, she'll go off the pill.  I like to space the babies two years apart.  After she's
recovered from the birth of the third baby, she and I will take a week together somewhere.  Our
sexual relations will end after that week.  So, for about eight years, Denise and I'll have sex on a
regular basis."

Denise's expression still didn't change, but her legs were crossed and the foot in the air was
rocking back and forth. 

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

"Yes, Mr. Chase.  I understood," she replied.  Her voice was sultry, like I'd never heard.

My emotions were a jumbled mass, like neutrons in a particle accelerator.  Mr. Chase must have
seen that.

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

She bolted upright, shaking and apprehensive.  She started to speak, but his look silenced her. 
She didn't look at me as she turned on her heel and walked from the room.  

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

"If you're having one."

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

"Scotch and water, please."

He pushed a button and one of his executive assistants appeared.  He introduced her as Virginia
and ordered drinks, which she prepared before leaving us.  After we sat in his conversation area,
he loosened his tie and took a sip. 

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

That floored me and I gasped, "Why?"

"If I put ads in the major papers offering this trust arrangement, I'd have five million women
accept within two days.  But - this isn't something I do lightly.  I'm concerned about the women
and my children.  I do care.  While I provide genes and money, the children will be raised outside
my direct control and that always concerns me.  I've never had a married mistress and, at this
point, the dynamics trouble me." 

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

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

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

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

"She told me you asked her."

He reached under the table next to the couch and Virginia appeared again.  "Put on the tape of
Denise from Wednesday, Virginia," he said.  A screen lowered from the ceiling.

"It's ready, Mr. Chase.  Would you like another drink?" she asked, handing him a remote control. 
She refreshed our drinks before leaving.

"Denise and Charlotte really report to Virginia.  She's assistant number one.  She's forty-nine,
happily married, and been with me since she was eighteen.  We had a brief affair when we were
both young and single.  I haven't touched her in almost thirty years, but I trust her with my life. 
She knows things the others don't know, such as everything in this office can be recorded on
both audio and video."

Nervously, I sipped my drink.

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

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

"Yes, Denise," he said.

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

"About what?"

"I overheard Virginia talking to Charlotte about protocol relating to Margaret Woodman."

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

She took a step toward his desk.  Her tongue flicked across her lips.  Erect, head held high, she
was poised and beautiful.  However, there was hesitation in her eyes, an indecisiveness which
flickered in her heat.  

"Well, Denise, whatever it is, spit it out," Mr. Chase said.  He sounded irritated and I wished I
could see his face.

"How do you select your mistresses?" she asked.  The words burst from her.  A tear rolled down
her right cheek and she turned beet red.  A tremor starting in her feet rolled up her body.

"Why do you ask?"

She opened her mouth, but no words came out.  Another tear fell, then a few more followed it,
one by one. Her hands clenched and unclenched.   

"Why do you ask?" he repeated softly.  Still, she didn't answer.  "Why don't you leave and come
back when you're ready to talk."  She took a step backward, then another.  She turned away as if
to leave, stopped and turned back to him again.  

"You know why I asked, " she accused. 

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

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

"Do you know what that means?"

"Yes.  I'll have your babies."

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

She stared at him, open mouthed and wide eyed.  "I knew there'd be many times, but I didn't
think about all the time."

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

Defeated and dejected, she walked away.  The screen went black and the lights came on.  Mr.
Chase was studying me now as I'm sure he studied Denise that day.  

"Want a refill on that drink, Dan?"

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

"That film was shot at nine-thirty in the morning.  What you're going to see now started at four-
eleven in the afternoon."

The lights went off and the screen lit up.  Denise was again standing in front of his desk. 

"Yes, Denise."

"I've thought about it.  I want to do it."  Her eyes were alert and excited, her face radiant.  

"Do what?" 

"Be your mistress."

"Are you sure?"

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

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

"Now?" she whispered.

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

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

Denise's eyes were wide with anticipation as her hands reached for the top button of her blouse.
The screen went blank and the lights turned on.  Mr. Chase was watching me intently. My hands
were shaking and I finished my drink in one gulp.  

As Virginia refilled our drinks, I thought about what Denise had told me.  She'd said Mr. Chase
didn't ask her to have sex.  That was true, in a way, I guess.  He didn't ask; he ordered.  What
had she said about her wanting sex with him?  I couldn't remember, but she seemed eagerly
ready to participate.  My emotions were wild and confused.  I didn't know if I trusted myself to
sit through the rest of that tape.

"I can't imagine what's going on in your mind right now," Mr. Chase said.  There was
compassion in his voice.  "Are you all right?"  He waited patiently.

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

The lights went out.  That day Denise had worn a sleeveless, hot pink, form fitting blouse
buttoned to the neck, over an uplift bra.  Her charcoal black skirt was very tight and ended four
inches above her knees.  She wore open toed black pumps with four inch heels and nude colored
stockings.  

Her eyes danced as she slipped the top button through its eyelet and parted the neck of the blouse. 
Slowly, her fingers undid the second button and the third.  Her eyes never left him.  

Her movements and expression subtly changed as she undid the fourth button.  Her fingers
struggled with a once simple task.  Her eyes dimmed and uncertainty clouded over them.  The
fourth button opened and the pink of her bra was visible. 

Her struggle increased with the fifth button.  With the sixth, she appeared shocked by what was
happening, but her fingers continued as if someone else was moving them. She gasped when she
unzipped her skirt and it slipped down.  Held by one last button, the tail of her blouse covered
her panties. 

"No," she mouthed, but the last button opened and the blouse slipped from her shoulders.  Her
sheer bra trapped, but displayed, the bounty of her breasts.  The full lips of the treasure between
her legs strained against the wet transparency of her bikini panties.  She froze that way, her face
anguished, her body ripe and ready.

On the film, the phone rang.

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

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

"This phone call will take a long time, Denise.  We'll have to continue this later," Mr. Chase
said.  

As the audio recorded a captain of industry talking to a Cabinet officer, the video recorded my
wife slowly dressing.  She looked sexually frustrated, but relieved.  When she left on the film, the
lights came on. 

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

Nothing happened, or had it?  She'd stripped to her underwear for him. She would've fucked
him, but the phone rang.  When does the adultery occur: when there's agreement to fuck or when
there's fucking?  When does the lie occur: with intent or with action?     

"Your wife is very conflicted over this as you saw in the video.  You're not sure either, Dan.  I
want a stable life for my children.  The way you both feel, stability is problematic.  That's why I
don't want to pursue an agreement."

He stood, indicating the meeting was ending.  "I'll say this," he said, "your wife's a ripe plum. 
Somebody's going to pick her."

"What does that mean?" I asked.

"My guess is your sex life is quiet and calm."  I nodded and he smiled knowingly.  "The first
storm that thunders into her life will blow her off her feet.  She wants to be taken, Dan.  She
wants to be taken long, hard and often.  That and the money is what's driving her, not the babies. 
Trust me on this."

Denise was waiting when I left Mr. Chase's office.  She was tense, snapping short questions to
ask what happened.  When I told her to shut up, she burst into tears.  Our evening was a tactical
battle of belligerent thrusts and parries.  We didn't touch or talk except to argue.  I slept in the
extra bedroom. 

I was eating my cereal in the morning when she came out dressed for work.  She wore another
uniform.  This one was an emerald green dress with a scooped neckline and skirt which ended at
mid thigh. 

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

My answer was going to be the death knell of our marriage, but I couldn't live with it any other
way.

"No, Denise, I'm not."

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

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

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

I spent the day chewing on the broken remains of my marriage.  They tasted rancid in my mouth. 
By mid afternoon, tears had flushed love away, leaving an void in my heart.  If money and genes
meant that much to her, let her go to them.  I'd lead my own life.  I might not be rich, but I'd
have my pride and my honor.  Someday I'd have a woman who loved me and wanted to have my
children.      

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

"May I come in?" she asked.  

"Certainly, but why are you here?"

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

"Mr. Chase would like for you to sign some legal papers.  If you want an attorney that's
acceptable, but these are so simple you can easily understand them.  First, a divorce agreement. 
Denise has already signed it.  You get everything, including her car.  She'll take only her clothes
and jewelry.  She'll return the engagement and wedding rings you gave her."

"I don't want them."

"Neither does she. You can hock them."

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

"Our lawyers will file the divorce agreement Monday morning.  State law requires a two-month
wait, but the judge won't have any problems with this.  Consider it done.  Next, a confidentiality
agreement between Mr. Chase and you."

It, too, was simple and straightforward.  He was paying me a hundred thousand dollars for my
confidentiality.  I signed it and took the check.

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

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

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

Denise was standing in front of Mr. Chase's desk again.  She looked wildly alive and energized. 

"Good morning, Denise," he said.

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

"Are Dan and you both in agreement?"

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

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

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

"And have three babies to raise by yourself?  That's quite a burden, not as much fun as it sounds
at first."

"It's what I want," she said, but I detected uncertainty.  I was sure Mr. Chase could see it.  

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

"Tell you what?"

"What you really want."

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

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

"Everyone wants financial security."

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

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

"Money and sex is what you want."

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

"Instead of the trust agreement and having my children, let's make a different deal, Denise.  Let's
start with a nice townhouse beautifully furnished, a new BMW Z3, more clothes and jewelry.  I'll
pay all your expenses.  In addition, I'll give you a hundred thousand dollars now, and another
hundred thousand at the end of the first year.  I'll give you two hundred thousand at the end of
the second through fifth years.  That's a million dollars in securities and cash over five years.
That's as much as you'd get from the trust and you don't have to wait to have it."

"And the sex?" she asked. 

"Are you wet between your legs, Denise?"

"Yes."

"Damp or flowing?"

"Flowing," she gasped.

"I'll tell you how, when and where I want you.  If you're not hot and eager to please me or if you
tell me no, the deal's off.  I'll share you with some friends.  If you tell them no, the deal's off,
and it's off if another man touches you without my permission.  Uninhibited sex at my command
and under my control, that's what I'm paying you for, Denise.  Do you understand?"

"Yes," she sobbed.

"You'll have more sexually variety this way.  Under the trust agreement, you'd be limited to Dan
and me.  This way there will be many different men, but you'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"Yes."

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

"Yes.  Yes!"

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

There was no hesitation today, no false modesty, no indecisiveness.  Arrogantly, she stripped
away the burden of her clothes.  Her panties were kicked away with disdain. 

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

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

"Yes, I do," he replied.

In a moment, Mr. Chase was in the picture.  Her face was lust as she undressed him.  When she
yanked down his boxers, a magnificent cock, hard and purple, popped in her face.  He
commanded, "Suck me."

Denise refused me oral sex, but she sucked Mr. Chase's cock with abandon.  When it was wet
with her saliva, he held the back of her head and fucked her face.  The camera recorded her wide
eyes and the bulge in her cheeks as he mercilessly drove his cock deep into her mouth.  

"That was marginal, Denise.  You need to become a good little cocksucker if you expect me to be
happy with you," he said.  "Let's see if you fuck any better than you blow."  He yanked her to her
feet, shoved her face down over the back of an arm chair, and said, "Grab the chair arms and
don't let go."

She was facing the camera.  He was behind her.  I couldn't see the connection, but I could see
them.  She twisted and groaned lustily.

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

"Want to be fucked, little whore?"

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

She squealed when he thrust in all the way and stopped.  His stroke was so strong he lifted her
feet off the floor.  She kicked and moaned as her first orgasm hit her.  Orgasm after orgasm
crashed over her, in waves of heat, sweat and spasms, as he pounded her with long, hard strokes. 
He fucked her cunt until she collapsed across the chair.  It was a display of hard fucking I'd only
imagined, but he wasn't finished with her.

"No," she whispered.

"What did you say?" he growled.

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

He grabbed her by the throat and yanked her head back to his, arching her.  Her big breasts
wobbled, their nipples erect and purple red.   "If you ever tell me no about anything again, I'll
throw your slutty ass out on the street.  Do you understand?"

"Yes, Mr. Chase."

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

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

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

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

"I'm losing patience with you, Denise, and if I lose patience, you lose a million dollars.  Say it
like you mean it and always say please."

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

"Much better," he said.  "Reach back with both hands and spread the cheeks of your ass for me.
Lodge my cock head right against your bud."

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

Pinned by his cock between his body and the chair, she was like a live bug pinned to a mat.  As
she twisted and turned, one of his hands held her head firmly in place and the other roughly
played with her breasts, extending her nipples and squeezing hard.  I could see the pain in her
face change to passion. I could tell when she started thrusting back to meet his strokes.  It didn't
surprise me when she orgasmed again.  

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

"Yes, Mr. Chase," she whispered.

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

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

He popped out of her and shoved her to her knees.  She sucked him until he exploded, covering
her face in cum.  He collapsed onto the couch.  Denise lay exhausted on the floor, sweaty and
cum covered.  Mr. Chase pushed the button and Virginia appeared.  She ignored Denise.

"Virginia, send Barton in, please."

"Yes, Mr. Chase," she answered.  There was a twinkle in her eye.  In a moment, a big man who
looked like a bodyguard entered.  

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

"Barton, Denise is no longer my executive assistant.  She's my playtoy.  Would you like to take
her for a ride?"

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

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

Denise was looking at Mr. Chase.   Her eyes showed she realized for the first time exactly what
was expected of her.  Then they showed she liked it.  The big man dropped his trousers and fell
between her legs.  Denise guided him into her.  He fucked her hard; she fucked back.  When he
was through, he thanked Mr. Chase and didn't speak to her.  She sat up and looked at her boss. 
She was smiling.

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

"I'd just been well fucked by you and I'm new at this.  Give me a little time," she said with grin.

"You'll do fine, Denise," he said with a laugh.  "Virginia'll get you a suite at the hotel until we
lease a townhouse.  After you dress, you can pick out your car."

"Thank you," she replied.  As she dressed, she asked, "Do I get a written agreement, Mr. Chase?"

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

When she turned to walk away, he called her name.  She stopped and looked back over her
shoulder at him.

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

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

"Do you like being my whore?"

"Am I going to get fucked a lot?"

"Yes, you are."

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

The film ended as Denise left his office.

I couldn't believe what I'd seen, but my cock was rock hard.  Virginia saw it and smiled at me.

"Mr. Chase said to tell you he enjoyed meeting you and good luck in the future.  He arranged to
have a woman here at eight.  He thought it might take the edge off.  She was to be a surprise gift,
but I didn't want you to take matters in hand," she said, suppressing a laugh.

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

She stood and hugged me. "A lot of women want a loving, faithful man they can trust.  I turned
Mr. Chase down for a man like that - a man like you.  You'll find the right woman.  Trust me on
that."  She kissed my cheek and let herself out. 

I was giddy.   Seeing Denise's performances cleft whatever love was left and energized me for
life without her.  Some day I'd marry and have children, but, for now, I wanted to play around,
enjoying myself and sampling what the world had to offer.

The door bell rang at eight, not a minute too soon.  I wanted to fuck so badly my cock was killing
me.

When I opened the door, she was standing there, looking beautiful and sexy.  Her back was
straight, her breasts high and firm, legs and ass displayed in a micro skirt and very high heels. 
She reddened when I grinned at her.  She had the sexual arrogance of a woman who knows she is
what men want and who likes the sex as much as they do.

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

"Do come in, Denise."



The End

Please!  Give me your comments!

E-mail address: ezriter@hotmail.com










 







 

  

     





   



 











     









  

 







     

  

    




 



       



 





    



   

 

             



        



   



 

     