Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 58185 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 291(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58185 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 291(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
“Are you going to come, Ingrid?” he growled. “Are you going to come on your boss’ cock?”
“Oh… oh, God…” I sobbed. Suddenly I felt as if maybe I didn’t want to let the orgasm happen… as if it would simply be too mortifying to yield to him that way, with the utter helplessness of the ecstasy that seemed to rush toward me like a tidal wave.
He withdrew his manhood until only the head remained inside me, and he stopped there.
“Oh, no…” I moaned. Helpless and humiliating or not, I needed to come much, much too badly to do anything but beg. “Please… please, sir…”
“I asked you a question, you little slut. Are you going to come on my cock now?”
“Yes!” I sobbed. “Yes, sir!”
Instantly he rewarded me for answering him with such evident obedience. He pressed down on my back, gripped my hip hard, and he started to fuck me again, like a jackhammer, thrusting at full length over and over, in what felt like a blindingly fast rhythm.
I started to come at the first thrust, and then I just kept climaxing, writhing in his strong hands but held so tightly that each movement of my muscles seemed to feed tension back into the spasms of my soaking vagina around his hot, surging cock. Every clench between my legs sent more pleasure crashing into my nervous system, until I screamed with pleasure—and the knowledge that everyone in this apparently insane office must know exactly what was happening to the new secretary only made the orgasms stronger.
It seemed to go on for hours, but I could tell, somewhere in my distant sense of reason and logic, that time had lost a good deal of its meaning for me. It probably only took a minute or two; I felt my body go limp under Mr. Alden’s crouching form, spent with the terrible pleasure. From a long way away, it seemed, I felt him pull his cock out of my vagina.
“Kneel up, sweetheart,” he ordered, enforcing the command with his hands. He wound his right forearm under my chest and pulled me upright. His left hand went between my legs and held me there, possessively—as if as a reminder that from now on I belonged to him, down there.
“Wh—” I started, turning my head in confusion to try to figure out what he intended—how this degrading lesson would continue.
“You’re going to taste yourself on my cock,” he murmured into my ear, “and I’m going to come on your face.”
“Oh, no,” I whispered. “Sir…”
“Shh, sweetheart,” he said. “Don’t make me get the paddle.”
He let go of me, and I sensed him straightening up. Heat rushed into my cheeks as out of the corner of my eye I saw him start to come around to face me, his trousers down to the middle of his thighs. Instinctively I lowered my eyes to the carpet, where his shiny black shoes had just stepped into my view.
“Look at my cock, Ingrid,” my new boss said. “It’s time for you to get acquainted with it. Look how hard you came on your boss’ penis.”
I shook my head. I knew I couldn’t have done that if the wand had still had control over me. I closed my eyes and pursed my lips. I took a deep breath through my nose, and I let out a sob because the scent that I had taken in told me much too much about what Mr. Alden had put directly in front of me.
I recognized it, to my distress. Or I recognized part of the aroma, anyway—and I knew that the part of it I didn’t recognize represented his corresponding fragrance, the muskiness of a dominant man’s private parts. I recognized it because I had done something naughty, once upon a time. It had felt naughty, at the time, anyway, and recollecting it there in my new boss’ office, where it seemed I would have my naughtiness corrected from now on made it feel terribly naughty again.
After I had given Jake my virginity, when he had gotten up from the bed to get a drink, I had put my hand between my thighs to feel the difference there. The memory nearly overwhelmed me as I knelt in front of Mr. Alden with my eyes closed. I had felt tender, down there. My… my mind whispered it, as if I couldn’t help obeying the command given by the man who had just fucked me as I had never imagined possible… my just-opened cunt had hurt a little, though something about the pain had to my embarrassment somehow felt right and proper.
That hadn’t constituted the naughty thing—the memorable thing—though. Despite the discomfort, I had rubbed a little, pressed my fingers inside just to see what my lover’s hardness had done. I had no idea why masturbation had always seemed so shameful to me, really, but even then, after having a man inside me at last, I had blushed at the intensity of the feeling.