THE PAINT JOB

 thick coat of paint in my innocent wife's pussy:

My wife is very naïve and innocent. Even though we have 
been married for 10 years, she is still as innocent as 
a 10 year old. Anyone can fool her. Anyone can make her 
do anything... she just believes every word of whatever 
anyone says. And I? Well, I just sigh and roll my eyes 
and let her be. After all she also takes care of me and 
has always agreed to whatever I have asked her for. 
What more could a man ask for?

Anyway we decided to paint our house as it had been not 
painted for nearly three years. As usual, she 
volunteered to look after the operation all by herself 
which was good because I am really lazy and do not like 
to supervise workers for such household chores.

We signed a contract with a local company as it was a 
good offer and they even threw in a free check up and 
repair for all our plumbing in the house. And since 
they had a large team, they assured us that they would 
be able to finish the entire four-bedroom apartment 
within two days. They were supposed to start on Monday 
and promised to finish by Tuesday evening.

So Monday morning my wife got ready to receive the 
painters and dressed in a pair of shorts and t-shirt to 
be able to supervise the work efficiently. Just as I 
was ready to drive to work, I saw the company's pickup 
piled with six workers and loads of paint tubs and all 
the necessary equipment drive past me toward my house. 
Relived that I had left even before they started 
messing up the house, I drove on singing a tune to 
myself. 

I reached the office and started my work. I had a 
couple of meetings lined up and just when a few 
colleagues and I were going out for lunch, a distressed 
looking receptionist informed us that the chairman of 
my company had died of a heart attack in the board room 
just after an important meeting. We were all stunned. 

Within minutes an ambulance arrived to take his body 
away and the entire office environment turned somber. 
The chief executive officer wisely announced that as a 
mark of respect for the chairman and to avoid emotional 
outburst from staff, we close the office for two days. 
All of use directors agreed and informed our respective 
staff accordingly.

Slight upset with the disheartening news I started my 
drive back home completely forgetting that I would be 
in the midst of a messy house with noisy workers 
everywhere. Upon reaching my home, I realised that 
there was absolutely no way to park my car and since I 
didn't want to get a parking ticket to park on the main 
road, I drove to the nearby shopping mall to park my 
car safely. I walked back to my house and navigated my 
way through the jam-packed driveway. 

The front door was blocked by some ladders etc, so I 
decided to walk from the backdoor. Even there was no 
space to walk in so I decided to use the side fire 
stairway to climb to my study just above the garage to 
enter the house. I thought I would just hide in the 
study and read something rather than going down. As it 
is I knew that they were only going to paint the study 
on the second day. It sounded very safe. 

What I didn't count on was the fact that they had 
already packed my books lining the walls in bookcases. 
All the bookshelves had also been removed. The 
bookshelf next to the door was placed there to hide a 
service window originally built there. Anyway, my 
comfortable armchair was still there intact so I took 
off my shoes and slumped inside for a nap even though 
there was a humming noise everywhere, with low chatting 
sounds and noises of workers scraping the walls 
downstairs preparing them for the new coat of painting.

About 10 minutes into my sweet nap, I woke up startled 
by a loud crashing noise followed by a billowed cry of 
pain from one of the workers. I lay still for a while 
and listened curiously as my wife shouted with concern, 
asking if the worker was okay. I heard some groaning 
and moaning from the worker who had apparently fallen 
from a ladder when his colleague supporting the ladder 
went to pee without telling him. 

I opened the window a bit to see the commotion and saw 
that worker had actually fallen down at the beginning 
of the staircase leading downstairs. The ladder had 
broken into two and two workers were carrying the 
ladder out to repair it. The injured worker was lying 
down moaning and clutching his crotch. He had fallen on 
an overturned wooden stool and that had hit him where 
it hurts the most. 

My wife was standing next to him comforting him with 
sweet words. The workers' supervisor told all the 
workers who had crowded around to go back to their 
work. My wife brushed the supervisor away with her hand 
and told him to see to the work while she handled the 
injured worker.

Then she sat down next to the injured worker, still 
writhing in pain. I noticed he was a Bangladeshi 
national and was much tanned. His build was short and 
stout and his hair was cropped very short. He was 
wearing faded jeans and a tank top t-shirt with lot of 
dried paint stains. His big black hands were clutching 
his crotch and his legs were bent at a 90 degree angle. 
His face was twisted in pain.

My wife, as she would have asked in a similar 
situation, asked him after she sat down next to him, "I 
can see it is very painful, what do you want me to do 
to ease the pain?"

He managed a weak smile and said, "Don't worry madam; I 
don't want to bother you."

My wife looked at his face and said, "Oh no, no. It's 
not a bother, just let me handle it. Just say what you 
want me to do, and I will do it to help you feel 
better."

I grinned internally at how any man would have 
understood her simple words. Even the worker, despite 
his condition, seemed a bit amused. "I think if you 
just rub here a little, it will be okay," he said as if 
testing waters. But there was no look of shock or 
bewilderment on my innocent wife's face. She squatted a 
little closer to the worker, sitting sideway from him 
and holding his bent left knee, pried his legs open 
getting a small shriek of pain from him. 

Unperturbed she removed his hands from his crotch and 
replaced them with her own, gently massaging this young 
black worker's crotch from over his dirty faded jeans. 
From where I was, I could not see my wife's face but I 
could see the worker's face clearly. He seemed to have 
forgotten his pain a bit and was now staring at her 
round ass just inches away from his face.

My wife continued rubbing for a while and asked him if 
he was feeling better. Of course the bastard was 
feeling better as I could see him enjoy my sweet wife's 
hand on his crotch but every time she asked he grimaced 
and yelped in pain and she continued. After five 
minutes, he probably decided to go a little further and 
said, "I think the pain is more inside my thighs."

"Is that so," my wife said and asked, "So what should I 
do?" The worker smiled behind her back and said boldly, 
"I think you better rub my thighs a little." And with 
that he opened his legs a bit wider as my wife started 
massaging his inner thighs sincerely. After a few 
minutes he asked my wife, "Madam, do you have any balm, 
like pain-relieving cream or something? I think we 
better massage some cream then I will be able to feel 
better and get back to work."

"Good idea," my wife said and rushed to get the first 
aid box from the attic. While she was gone, I saw the 
worker grinning to himself and adjusting his lumpy 
crotch. He put his hand inside his jeans and positioned 
his cock along his "painful" thigh and quickly resumed 
his grimaced face look and the crouched position just 
as he saw my wife return. She was hurrying back to him 
with a small tub of what was moov or iodex cream.

She sat down and scooped a large amount of cream with 
her fingers and turned to him only to realize that he 
was wearing jeans. "How can I put the cream on your 
thigh if you are wearing jean?" She asked him, to which 
he replied, "Don't worry, here, let me take these jeans 
off to make it easier for you." And he slid his tight 
faded jeans off to reveal thick hairy and muscular 
thighs. He was wearing tight trunk briefs and his 
readjusting had cleverly and conveniently lined his 
half hard cock along the inner thigh. 

I could even see the distinct outline of this thick 
shaft and the mushroom head of his cock through his 
trunks. My wife didn't seem to notice his thick baby-
making snake slithering down and earnestly started 
rubbing the pain killer cream on his thigh. It was not 
easy because of the huge amount of curly hair all over 
his legs but she managed well, at times even colliding 
her lovely fingers along his cock, which twitched at 
every contact and lengthened some more.

The worker groaned but now the groans had a pleasured 
edge to them. He was now lying on his back and his legs 
were spread wide lewdly making his package stand out. 
As my wife continued her rubbing, he became even bolder 
and sneaked his long hands to grab her waist, "I better 
hold it otherwise I might slip down." She eagerly moved 
a little closer to him so that he could hold her tiny 
waist in a better grip.

"Enough of that...madam, now massage slightly higher," 
he said and pulled his trunks upwards. As he did that 
the head of his thick cut engorged cock emerged proudly 
from the underside. I could see s thin trail of 
slippery fluid seeping from his piss slit. He noticed 
it too and asked my wife to wipe it off so that the 
skin could absorb the cream better. 

My wife dutifully wiped his leaking cock with the end 
of her t-shirt and continued her rub. Now she was 
rubbing just under his ball sack and with his movement 
his cock was extending out more and more. Soon his 
entire cock was out of his trunks and jutting out 
proudly tilting towards my wife's hand because of being 
so thick and obviously heavy with meat.

"I think you better hold this thing with one hand so 
that you can massage my painful thighs easily," he 
ordered boldly and my wife complied. She held the base 
of his thick cock with her left hand and continued her 
massage. "Here please," he said and lifted his balls 
out of the trunks completely and held them up. As she 
slid her hand under the balls he let them go and the 
balls covered her hand completely.

Then he took me by surprise although it didn't affect 
my wife in any way, "You better hold the balls also 
with your other hand," he said and she complied 
dutifully. Now she was just sitting there holding his 
leaking huge cock with one hand and cupping his hairy 
black balls with her other hand. Innocently she asked, 
"oh, then how can I massage now, both my hands are 
occupied?"

He laughed languidly and said, "don't worry the pain is 
almost gone, but the skin is getting a bit dry maybe 
you should spit on my balls and use your mouth to 
spread it around but please don't drop my cock and 
balls as it is very painful when they touch the dry 
skin. The friction is way too painful for me."

My sweet innocent wife looked at him like a tender 
loving caring mother, bent down, steadying herself by 
planted her knees on the floor and started spitting and 
licking his balls with her mouth while holding the 
heavy set of the worker's cock and balls. Just then the 
supervisor, a thick set black Nigerian man, walked up. 
He stood dumbfounded in his tracks but seeing the 
situation quickly assumed his supervisory role, 
adjusting his fast growing cock.

He was a man of about 65 and seemed like another 
unhygienic fellow like the worker. As he openly played 
with his cock by putting his hand inside his trousers, 
he started instructing my wife.

"Madam, I think his cock is swollen because of the 
fall. I hope it doesn't get infected, see the amount of 
liquid coming out," he said sitting very close to my 
wife. He put his hand on her shoulders and said, "I 
think the poor boy is in utter pain look at his cock. 
You better massage it with you mouth. Better not touch 
with your hand, it looks too tender and your rough skin 
my make it break into rashes."

My sweet innocent wife, who until now had only seen my 
cock's action and that too only in her pussy, actually 
relieved that there was someone else to give her 
instructions, quickly slid her mouth on the worker's 
engorged cock. As the big mushroom head hit her mouth, 
the worker groaned in pleasure. My wife took the groan 
for pain and started sucking faster.

The old Nigerian, by now had freed his gigantic black 
uncut cock from the confined of his stained trousers 
and was stroking it slowly. It was really huge and made 
me worry about the safety of my wife's pussy.

He moved behind my wife and said in a flat tone, "You 
better take off your shorts, they really getting dirty 
and since you do not have any access to laundry too. 
Here. Let me help you, just raise your ass up 
slightly... umm... not so fast... give me a minute 
while I unbutton your shorts. Now, yeah, that's a good 
girl." 

With that the willful and conniving old black man, 
tugged at my wife's shorts waistband and tugged them 
down together with her panty in one swift moment and 
just as she registered her surprise, he smiled and 
winked at her, adding in a deep baritone voice, "Of 
course it's a mistake and I apologise that I 
accidentally removed your panties as well. But it's a 
good mistake since now you can also save the trouble of 
wearing dirty panties tomorrow. Right?"

It might have been slightly difficult for my poor wife 
to understand that logic with her mouth full of a big 
pulsating cock leaking pre-cum constantly and her hands 
busy massaging the massive hairy balls of the 
Bangladeshi worker. But she did a good job and nodded 
her thanks. Then the Nigerian old man lied down just 
behind my wife. His magnificent and rock hard black 
uncut cock was brushing my wife's blatantly exposed 
pussy "innocently" every now and then. I also saw how, 
he scooped some his raw pre-cum on two fingers and 
lightly started rubbing my wife's brazenly displayed 
pussy lips. 

From my position, I could even see her pussy lips 
glistening and shining with the black Nigerian's pre-
fuck juice. Black Nigerian also started penetrating his 
thick black calloused fingers into her slick pussy hole 
ever so slightly. When my wife stopped, just for one 
moment, to steady her in that rather uncomfortable 
position of swatting down, the Nigerian old man grabbed 
the godsend opportunity, "Madam, you look tired and I 
can see, the swelling in his rod is not yet gone. So 
why don't you make yourself comfortable? I really don't 
mind if you move behind and sit on me."

My wife was probably actually tired sitting there for 
the last 30 minutes and must have been thankful for 
that instruction and suggestion so she raised her bare 
ass and splayed pussy which had been carefully 
lubricated by the pre-cum of a giant black uncut cock 
and slowly sat down. Her knees must have really hurt 
because as fast as she had raised herself, she 
descended down equally fast and perhaps she was so fast 
and tired that she couldn't get off that giant cock 
that punctured her pussy with its spear like (although 
a very, very blunt spear) thick purple head. 

If she had not been sincere in sucking the Bangladeshi 
worker's cock, she might have screamed, but like I said 
before my wife's innocence and dedication to any cause 
is really worth commending and thus, she endured that 
one quick thrust that impaled her pussy on that really 
impossibly thick and long cock.

In her dedication to serve the man lying in front of 
her and writhing in pain (at least to her pure mind) 
she suffered the urgent and forceful thrusts of the 
black Nigerian as he gradually increased the tempo of 
the pounding of his cock in and out of my wife. After 
what seemed like was an eternity and after enduring a 
rather long and painful erection confined in my tight 
briefs. Anyway what was happening outside was much more 
exciting right now then to pay any attention to my tiny 
weenie penis, so I let it be and gazed outside intently 
to see what my poor wife was being subjected to. 

Luckily I was just in time to see the Nigerian slam his 
big black veiny cock one last time inside my wife's 
hairy pussy and discharge a big load of his black seed 
deep inside, somewhere close to her womb where my small 
penis had never been able to venture leaving us 
childless even after many years of marriage and despite 
having sex at least once in a month or two. I was 
getting close to making my wife's dream of having a 
child finally. So what if it was not me who was 
actually making a baby in my wife's stomach?

Well, so after the father of my future baby finished 
breeding my wife, he slowly removed his spent cock - 
still much bigger than my hard penis - from my wife's 
gapping pussy. I heard a plopping sound and a river of 
thick ropes of white sperm flowed from my wife's pussy. 

The black Nigerian quickly scooped all his own cum and 
pushed it back in her pussy. He pulled her down with 
her shoulders and made her lie down on her back, knees 
bent and pressed to her chest. When my wife raised her 
eyebrows slightly, he laughed heartily and explained, 
"Madam, I am just ensuring that all my tiny soldiers 
remained locked inside your fortress till they are able 
to bond with each other as proof of our friendship." My 
wife nodded as if she understood but I didn't really 
get he meaning of what he was saying.

The Bangladeshi worker had recovered by now and as he 
got up from his "hurt" position on the floor, he 
quickly shed his clothes and helped the Nigerian by 
pressing my wife's folded legs properly. I dashed to 
the adjoining attic as now my view was not very good, 
from the attic window it was easier for me as I could 
lie down and see directly below me as to what scene was 
unfolding. 

I saw the Bangla worker holding my wife's legs down. It 
was an erotic site to see a half naked black old 
Nigerian man pulling his spent but still massive uncut 
cock and to see a virile young almost black Bangladeshi 
worker standing over my wife in a lying-down-kneeling 
position with his super hard cock with a thick mushroom 
head almost touching my wife's freshly fucked pussy 
which was peeking from under her folded thighs. Such a 
sweet pussy! 

How could the hard-cocked Bangladeshi stay away for 
long so he aimed his cockhead at my wife's pussy tunnel 
already lubricated generously by the old black 
Nigerian's thick and copious sperm and slid his seven-
inch cock in her pussy just like a hot knife slices a 
slab of hard butter.

He pounded her tucked in pussy for about five minutes 
and flooded her interiors with his Bangladeshi sperm. I 
would now never know who the real father of my future 
child was. And to add to my confusion, three of the 
other workers climbed the stairs and stood around my 
wife, one by one, taking out their hard dirty cocks 
with dried sperm, piss drops and sweat and maybe even 
shit that might still be sticking there after they 
might have fucked each other in the ass to relive 
themselves in the night.

That evening, my wife got banged a total of nine times 
by all the workers and their black Nigerian supervisor. 
And I just lay there in the attic watching her get bred 
by the dirty multi-racial workers - there were two 
Bangladeshi's, one Indian, one Pakistani, one two from 
Sri Lanka and of course their Nigerian supervisor. I 
too came three or four times even without touching my 
penis. Each time they came inside her, they ensured 
their sperm mixed with each other's seed and remained 
inside. Her pussy was overflowing with copious amounts 
of the seven men's sperm. 

Of course, the workers - having been so busy with 
breeding my sweet wife, couldn't complete the entire 
apartment's painting within the promised time and their 
efficient company extended the painting project by 
three days. And of course, in nine months time my wife 
gave birth to a healthy pair of twin boys - jet black 
in colour with a thick mop of nigger hair on top of 
their head. 

What convinced me that their father was the old black 
Nigerian supervisor was the sight of their crotch which 
was stunning - even as a day-old babies, their penises 
- or I better say cocks - were already three-inch long 
and about a inch thick with a beautiful cover of jet 
black skin complemented well by a pair each of jet 
black wrinkled balls that were at least as big as a 
lime.

Months after the boys were born; I hunted the black 
Nigerian from a slum where he had retired after being 
sacked from the company. Now he officially lives in our 
house as I "adopted" him as the grand "father" of my 
two boys. My wife still doesn't know that I saw every 
moment of her breeding. 

Now since the black Nigerian moved in, I have seen 
evidence of thick dried cum in her used panties, I know 
that I can happily live with my sweet family as long as 
the black Nigerian is with us. 

Once he dies, surely he will as he quite old, I will 
replace him with another black old Nigerian grand 
"father" for my children till they grow up because once 
they are teenagers, they can take over their duties as 
the fucker of my wife.

More about → THE PAINT JOB

CHAUFFEUR'S DIRTY JOB

Michael, could you help me?"

It was Mr. Dietel, my boss.  "Of course, sir."  I jumped out of my car
door to see my employer half-dragging his wife from the open elevator.
Thea was obviously quite intoxicated and not in control of her own
faculties.  I lifted her free arm and placed it around my neck; the
middle-aged woman was cradled between us.

"Seems like my wife had a bit too much to drink."  He always had a way
of stating the obvious.  This was not the first time he left an
important party because of his wife's drinking problem.  "Thea should
go home" - of course she should - "but it looks like I may get the CMK
contract tonight."  He sighed.  "If I play my cards right."

I opened the rear door to the limousine.  "It's no problem,
Mr. Dietel.  I'll drop her off then come right back."  He looked
grateful.

Up until this moment, Thea Dietel had been inanimate.  She spoke with
slurred words.  "I don't want to go home, Michael!"  She turned her
head towards her husband.  "Let us go find a nice hotel and fuck our
brains out like we used to?"  It was my duty to ignore the private
words of my employer and his wife.

"Now, dear."  He let her go so I could manipulate her through the door
of his huge car.  "Michael will make sure you get home all right."
She made a rude noise as her answer, while I was not amused with the
task of handling his drunken wife.  "I'll be home later tonight, dear,
after I get that contract I have been working on."

This time Mrs. Dietel spoke to me instead of her husband.  It was
something she normally never did - talk to the help.  "He would rather
work on some contract than fuck his wife."  She then spoke over my
shoulder as I finally got her onto the rear seat.  "Or are you fucking
someone else?"  There was venom in her voice.  "Like that bimbo
secretary of yours?"

After I stood back up out of the limousine, Mr. Dietel closed the door
just as his wife's first sob could be heard.  He attempted an
embarrassed smile then pressed his palm into mine.  I felt several
bills being exchanged.  "I know this goes beyond your duties, Mike, so
after getting her home you can take the rest of the night off."

I wondered if Mrs. Dietel's last question was true.  "Of course, sir,
and thank you."

He waved my statement away.  "I should get back."  He walked back
towards the elevator.  "I called home and the maid will handle my wife
once you get her there."  I nodded.  After all, it was my job.

Mr. Dietel quickly stepped into the open elevator and closed its
doors.  I was left alone in the large cement parking complex.  Well, I
thought, it's a job.  Beats digging ditches.

I got behind the driver's seat and stole a quick look behind me
through the rearview mirror.  "You okay, Mrs. Dietel?"  She didn't
respond, but I could hear her near-silent sobs.  "I'll have you home
within an hour."  It usually took seventy-five minutes to drive to the
coastal home, but it was evening and I should be able to make good
time.

It was a job.  I began maneuvering through the busy downtown streets
and the traffic, only occasionally looking back to my employer's wife.
She was fine, half-laying upon the wide rear seat, her face hidden in
shadow.  Perhaps I would get lucky and she would pass out until the
drive was over.

I'm not sure how long since leaving the garage it had been before Mrs.
Dietel first spoke, but it startled me after the serene silence.  "You
wouldn't have left your wife for a contract, would you, Michael?"  I
glanced through the mirror to see Thea sitting up, looking directly
into my eyes.  She looked very weary, her eyes were red and puffy
after crying, and her clothes were wrinkled after laying upon them for
so long.

"I'm not married, Mrs. Dietel."  I wondered if she even knew this -
she only spoke to me to give directions to her next destination, not
to ask about my personal life.  I sensed that she waited impatiently
for an answer to her question.  My comment was irrelevant.  "No,
ma'am, I would never have chosen a job over my wife."

"Do you find me attractive, Michael?"  Her voice had a new quality to
it that I could not interpret.  The simple question was also
disturbing, something I never thought to hear from Thea Dietel.

What else could I say?  "Yes, ma'am, I do find you attractive."  She
was.  Late thirties, still in shape, with a pretty face - it was only
her attitude that pissed me off.  This evening I had noticed she
looked particularly attractive, dressed in a light pink dress with
while nylons and shoes, her long, wavy dark hair highlighting her
attractive features.  Of course, I only took a quick glance before
becoming the dispassionate driver - after all I could not jeopardize
this job.

Using a quiet almost girlish voice, she asked, "Would you like to fuck
me?"

I almost hit the car in front of me, so distracted and surprised was I
at the comment.  I took several long breaths before responding,
"Ma'am, we will be back home in a few moments.  Then you can sleep
off..."  I was the chauffeur after all.  The reason I had stopped
talking was because I glanced into the mirror as I spoke.  What I saw
surprised me yet again.

The angle of the large rearview mirror allowed me to see much of the
rear compartment, up to about the waist of anyone sitting in the seat
facing forwards.  Mrs. Dietel was sitting facing me, her eyes looking
fiercely into mine.  I could see a white silk-covered knee which led
down to her thigh- revealing garters.  One of the lady's hands was
inside the front of her dress, one button undone, allowing access so
she could manipulate her own breast.  The other hand crossed the front
of her body and was obviously placed between her legs, which I could
not see.

"Would you like to fuck me?"  Again the question, but this time I
could see the needful desire in her eyes, and understood the sound in
her voice.  "I'll do anything you want!  I want you to fuck me!"  She
sighed, and I saw that her tongue had quickly licked her red lips to
moisten them.  "Use me, Michael, fuck me any way you want; I need a
man."  I'm sure she did.

I wasn't sure what to do, but was certain her actions were induced by
the large amounts of alcohol she consumed.  So if in doub,t do your
job.  I continued to drive while watching the rear compartment very
closely.  Mrs.  Dietel continued to manipulate her bosom and the arm
across from her moved slightly, giving indication of a busy hand
between her legs.  Yet her eyes only came off mine to sigh her
enjoyment, but would promptly return to the mirror.  Thank goodness -
I finally left the busy city and was on a quiet highway.

"I bet you have a big rock-hard cock?"  She smiled for the first time.
"One that likes a hungry wet pussy... like mine."

I spent another few moments watching her enjoyable show before she
altered her presentation.  I watched as she pressed her knees together
and then lifted them to her chest, her hands going to her hips.  She
wiggled then moved her arms down before coming back up with her white
thin panties.  In seconds she threw the skimpy garment up to the
front; it landed right upon my right thigh.  I stole another look back
at her, seeing that she waited for my response, then I lifted her damp
panties to my face and inhaled.

Mrs. Dietel giggled like a teenager.  "I knew you were a real man!  A
real fucking true-to-God answer to my prayers."  She again lifted her
legs up upon the seat, both her knees now visible, allowing me to see
the band of her stockings and the clips of her garters.  I breathed in
the thick musk of Mr. Dietel's wife as I watched her slowly unbutton
the multitude of dainty buttons on the front of her dress.  "I'm going
to sit here and fuck myself until you stop this car and rape me!"  She
giggled again just as her bra- covered breasts were revealed.

I reached up to the mirror and adjusted it, moving it down slightly.
My view was unobstructed into the rear seat, and I could now see Mrs.
Dietel's glistening spread cunt.  I could not believe this was
happening, nor was I sure how far to take this episode.  She noticed
my adjustment of the mirror and smiled her enjoyment.  That was when
she began the real show.

A bra landed upon my lap,removed quickly and thrown while I was
distracted with her Venus mound.  She scooted her bottom forward on
the seat, pressing her already-spread sex towards me.  I could see
every detail of her flowered vagina that I imagined the taste of her
nectar.  The limousine filled with the sharp smell of her.  Those next
few moments would rush by very quickly.

Mrs. Dietel began to gently manipulate the wet lips of her sex, moving
them back and forwards with one hand.  The other hand pinched a nipple
before firmly grasping a breast in a full hand.  She was making
pleasure noises, mainly for my enjoyment, I was sure.  "I need your
big fucking cock, Michael."  The right hand worked upon her sex moved
and the tips of her fingers rotated over the sensitive spot of her
clitoris.  Her bottom and hips wiggled delightfully while the hand
over the breast became rough as it moved from one revealed breast to
the other.

The middle-aged woman was still very attractive, and at that moment,
damn sexy.  I wanted to turn off the road, jump in the back and fuck
her wildly.  I wanted to lick up the abundant juices that ran from her
vagina down to her asshole, bottom cheeks and even her inner thighs.
She was right about one thing - I most certainly wanted to fuck her
with my big cock.  I decided, at that moment, to watch the rest of the
show, then move in to give the madam her wish.

"Hummm!"  She moaned out, the urgency in her voice apparent.  A hand
abandoned her C-cup breasts, then unceremoniously attacked her own
vagina, inserting her two middle fingers deep inside her private
gully.  The other hand was rapidly moving almost in time with her
wiggling and shivering body.  I knew it would not be long now.
"Cock...fuck me, you bastard...fat fucking cock fucking me...yes!"

"Yes!"  Her bottom lifted off the seat and pressed outwards towards
me, as I saw perfectly into her crotch and busy hands.  Three fingers
were shoved up inside herself, and the other was now at her mouth,
licking off the glistening juices her sex had left upon it.  She came
fiercely as the now- clean hand returned to her clitoris.  Mrs. Thea
Dietel orgasmed and spasmed just as I slowed down so I would not have
to take my eyes off the mirror as much.

The explosive orgasm seemed to last for several long seconds until she
fell back down onto the seat.  Her alcohol-induced sluggishness
returned and she suddenly looked exhausted as she collapsed into the
huge rear seat.  Her delightful moaning lasted for another few moments
as she enjoyed the after affects of her inner release.

"Mrs. Dietel?"  I slowed the limousine and turned off onto a remote
dirt road, only moments from the Dietel home.  She hadn't even
answered me, but put her arm over her eyes.  "Thea?"  It was the first
time I have ever called her by her first name, and probably would be
the last.  I found an abandoned old dirt road that was overgrown with
weeds and hadn't a house or building within a few miles.  It was
totally dark.

I put the limousine in park, got out of the car, opened the rear door
and climbed in.  Laying as she had last moved, Mrs. Dietel was still
exposed, her dress about her waist.  She was glowing in the dim light
of the driver's compartment, her skin still sweaty from her earlier
exertions and her chest rose and fell with her deep even breathing.  I
reached out and tentatively poked her foot.  She didn't move.

Just touching her took much of my initial strength, since I knew that
the game I was playing could effectively get me canned from my
well-paying cushy job.  Yet this opportunity could not be overlooked -
Mrs. Dietel was an attractive woman, a woman who needed the touch of a
man, and to top it off, was a bitch up until this night.  I wanted to
possess her, to fuck her, and to have her beg for me.  Possibly in no
other situation could I have a woman like Thea in my bed.

I again reached out and moved her foot, but didn't take my hand away
from her silk-clad toes.  I wanted her to wake up and again beg for my
cock, which I would give to her only when I wanted to.

She didn't move.

"Thea?"  My hand shook her more roughly this time and she didn't even
moan.  The woman was again passed out.  "Damn!"  I sat back and
contemplated my next move.  My employer's wife was almost naked in the
back of his limousine and my dick was hard.  Obviously my earlier
plans had disintegrated.  Again the rich got what they desired and the
working stiffs were left holding the bag again.  "Damn bitch!"

At some point in those few seconds I had decided my course of action
and reached out cup one of her sweaty breasts in my palm.  The nipple
was still hard poked into my hand, and heightened my sexual hunger.
This woman had promised, and begged, for my cock - was it wrong to
give it to her?  Even in this state?  I didn't care any longer.

I was not dainty, nor was I gentle with my next few movements.  I
reached out with both hands and pulled her from the seat down onto the
carpeted floor.  She landed upon her naked buttocks and shoulders.  My
desperation was evident as I pried apart her thighs and knelt between
them, the zipper loud in the silent compartment.  Quickly and
expertly, I aimed my stiff manhood towards her still-flowered open
vagina and pressed forwards.  The hot wetness engulfed me as I sank
down to the root, our kinky hairs mingling together.  This time it was
my turn to sigh.

To my surprise, and delight, Mrs. Dietel began to rotate her hips.  As
the first of my thrusts drove home, she groaned loudly and I enjoyed
watching the uninhibited jiggling of her breasts.  My hunger showed in
my animal thrusting as I drove again and again into her wet folds,
placing her stocking-clad legs upon my shoulders, pressing her knees
all the way to her chest.

Slowly, Thea began to drift out of her stupor and began to react to my
enjoyment.  Firstly, her midriff rose up to meet my down thrust with
the same passion and needful desire.  Next, one of her hands grasped
her left naked bosom and enjoyed the softness, as well as the hard
peak, beneath her palm.  The other hand grasped her own leg, right
behind the knee, helping me keep her legs spread wide and far back.
"God, I'm cumming!"

The sweat was dripping down my spine as I noticed her own perspiration
beading upon her smooth skin.  The sight of her passion-filled face
brought me closer to my own orgasm, but it was the tightening of her
inner sex muscles that pushed me over the brink.  I could almost feel
my seed force itself up from my balls, through the long tunnel and
finally to the end of my cock.  Just as the first blast of my cum shot
out of me, Thea cried out and her whole body seemed to quiver
uncontrollably as her own orgasm began. I lost the sequence of events
after that; surely my partner had another intense orgasm more powerful
than the previous, but my own made that memory clouded.

Some time later I lay panting above Mrs. Dietel, my considerably
smaller member still inside her slimy wetness.  The first movement I
made initially was to bend forward and kiss her still-hard nipple, the
next was to let go of her legs that had been resting upon my back.

Throatily she spoke, "That was delightful, Howard."  She hummed
slightly afterwards, content with her body's feelings.  Yet I wanted
to know who Howard was - my employer's name was Christopher.  Perhaps
I was wrong and Mrs. Dietel hadn't been as lonely as I first imagined.

Thankful for her drunken stupor I disengaged myself from her and then
proceeded to continue with my job.  I drove Mrs. Thea Dietel home.

More about → CHAUFFEUR'S DIRTY JOB

EXPANDED JOB DUTIES FOR ELIZABETH

Elizabeth worked as a secretary for Nelson industries 
for the same boss for two or three years. Recently, the 
board of directors made sweeping changes in their 
management and Elizabeth found herself with a new boss.

Elizabeth's new boss was a very large black man, very 
intelligent, and very attractive. Although Elizabeth 
was happily married, sometimes when she saw her new 
boss, Mr. Edwards, Elizabeth fantasized about sex with 
such a man. 

During these periods of fantasy, Elizabeth did not 
understand the feelings that would come over her. She 
could feel her nipples hardening and wetness between 
her legs. This was not in character for Elizabeth. 
Elizabeth had been married to John for the past fifteen 
years. They had three lovely children together. After 
her third child, Elizabeth worked very hard to get her 
5-foot, 4-inch body back into shape.

With 34C breasts, shoulder length blonde hair, and blue 
eyes, Elizabeth was a very attractive thirty-six year 
old Mother. Elizabeth had never been unfaithful to 
John, never even considered it. She performed her 
dutifully as a wife, having sex about twice a month.

Sex with John was always the same. John would kiss her, 
massage her breasts, and then crawl on top of her. 
Sometimes Elizabeth would experience orgasms, but more 
times than not Elizabeth was left wanting more, but not 
know what, or how to ask. So after the third child was 
in school, Elizabeth went to work with Nelson 
industries. Now working for Mr. Edwards, Elizabeth 
found herself sexually aroused for another man, a black 
man at that, for the first time in the fifteen years of 
marriage to John.

One morning after a particularly poor sexual encounter 
with John, Elizabeth decided that she wanted more. She 
decided that somehow she would have to get Mr. Edwards 
to notice her, and then seduce her. Elizabeth 
rationalized that is she was seduced, then it would not 
be entirely of her own free will and that made it 
alright. That morning, Elizabeth dressed more 
provocatively that usual. She wore a bra that was a 
little small so that the milky whiteness of the tops of 
her breasts pushed out. Elizabeth chose a blouse with 
buttons so that she could control how much of her 
breasts Mr. Edwards would be able to see. 

Finally, Elizabeth found an a-line skirt that was about 
six inches above her knees. The skirt was dark blue and 
had always accented Elizabeth's shapely legs, thighs, 
and hips. Elizabeth finished dressing by slipping her 
feet into the highest heeled shoes she had in her 
wardrobe.

Biting her lip as she pulled on cotton white panties, 
Elizabeth realized that if she were going to be 
successful at the seduction, she would have to buy some 
new things. Satisfied with her appearance, Elizabeth 
left for work, kissing John quickly and agreeing to 
meet him at her office for lunch.

As soon as Elizabeth arrived at her desk she put her 
plan into motion. Each time Mr. Edwards called her into 
his office; Elizabeth undid two buttons giving him a 
clear view of her breasts. When she sat down, she would 
part her legs slightly. In one encounter, Elizabeth was 
sure she caught Mr. Edwards peering up her skirt. After 
that encounter, her breasts ached to be touched. But, 
it was about thirty minutes before lunch and Mr. 
Edwards gave no other indication of any real interest 
in Elizabeth. 

Elizabeth was trying to get a document completed before 
lunch when Mr. Edwards asked her to come to his office 
again. Elizabeth undid the buttons, went straight 
inside. As she went through the door this time, Mr. 
Edwards asked her to shut the door. Elizabeth, unaware, 
shut the door and sat down, leaving her legs slightly 
parted.

"Elizabeth, I have noticed your... assets... shall I 
say, and I was wondering if you would like to show me 
more," Mr. Edwards started as he sat down behind his 
desk. Just before he sat down, Elizabeth saw the 
enormous bugle behind the zipper of his pants. She 
thought she knew exactly what Mr. Edwards wanted and to 
test her assumption, Elizabeth parted her legs a little 
more.

"No Elizabeth, I mean I want to really see your assets, 
come here in front of me," Mr. Edwards commanded.

Robotically, Elizabeth stood up and came behind the 
desk where Mr. Edwards sat. Mr. Edwards took her pad 
and pen from her hands and placed them on the desk. 
Elizabeth felt him reach around behind her and grab the 
cheeks of her ass and squeeze. Elizabeth felt her 
respirations increase at his touch.

"There are lots of other 'duties' you could perform for 
me and others in this organization for a little extra 
cash if you're interested," Mr. Edwards offered. Before 
Elizabeth could answer, she felt Mr. Edwards's hands at 
the hem of her skirt pushing it upward until the white 
"V" of her panties showed. Elizabeth felt chill bumps 
on her arms, but stood still and did not answer.

"I will assume your silence is your answer," Mr. 
Edwards said and hooked his thumbs in the waistband of 
Elizabeth's panties and slowly lowered them over her 
hips, down to her knees and around her ankles. 
Elizabeth stepped out of her panties.

Mr. Edwards picked them up and placed them against his 
nose inhaling Elizabeth's aroma. "The moisture and odor 
of these panties tells me what you want." 

Mr. Edwards opened the bottom drawer of his desk and 
dropped Elizabeth's panties inside. Elizabeth still did 
not speak. She felt Mr. Edwards hands on the inside of 
each of her thighs, forcing her legs open.

Elizabeth spread her legs for Mr. Edwards. When her 
skirt bunched around her waist and legs spread, Mr. 
Edwards face was eye level with Elizabeth's exposed 
cunt. She gasped as she felt Mr. Edwards insert one 
finger into her wet hole then rub the wet finger across 
her erect clit. A slight moan escaped Elizabeth's lips 
when Mr. Edwards inserted a second finger and began to 
finger-fuck Elizabeth.

"Very nice, your pussy is nice, warm, and wet, just the 
way it should be," Mr. Edwards commented. With his free 
hand, Mr. Edwards unzipped his pants and pulled his 
cock out.

Elizabeth looked down and was amazed and how thick it 
was. John's cock was maybe six inches. Mr. Edwards's 
cock was twice that long and at least three inches 
thick. Elizabeth felt the flood of juices cover Mr. 
Edwards's fingers as she experienced a mini-orgasm. 

Mr. Edwards removed his fingers and stood up in front 
of Elizabeth. He went behind her and pushed her to bend 
over. Elizabeth bent at the waist and put her hands, 
palms flat, in the seat of Mr. Edwards's chair. She 
jumped she felt the tip of Mr. Edwards's cock and the 
entrance to her cunt.

Mr. Edwards took Elizabeth's hips in his hands and 
pulled her toward him driving about half his fat cock 
into her cunt. Elizabeth moaned and rotated her hips 
trying to adjust to the size of the dick inside her. 
Mr. Edwards waited a moment for Elizabeth to 
accommodate him, then shoved the remaining portion of 
his cock into her cunt. Once buried inside her, Mr. 
Edwards just stopped.

"Please," Elizabeth begged.

"No, you work for me," Mr. Edwards ordered, "you want 
to be fucked then I suggest you start working."

At first confused, Elizabeth just shifted her weight 
from foot to foot. Mr. Edwards then took her hips and 
started rocking her on and off his cock, then stopped. 
Elizabeth understood and started pulling her hips 
forward and slamming them back against Mr. Edwards 
while he stood motionless. Elizabeth was basically 
fucking herself on Mr. Edwards's cock rocking back and 
forth on her heels and keeping her balance with her 
hands in the chair.

Just as Elizabeth started to increase her pace, there 
was a knock on Mr. Edwards's door. Elizabeth froze.

"No one told you to stop, keep working," Mr. Edwards 
commanded. "What is it, we are in conference," Mr. 
Edwards yelled at the door.

Elizabeth was now working her hips back and forth hard. 
The enormity of Mr. Edwards's cock totally filled her 
cunt and felt wonderful. She was a bit nervous that the 
person on the other side of the door would hear her.

"Elizabeth's husband is here for lunch," the other 
secretary stated through the door.

"Have him wait, she'll be out in a moment," Mr. Edwards 
replied. "Better hurry if you want lunch," he said to 
Elizabeth.

Elizabeth now held onto the back of the chair and 
pumped her hips faster trying to force Mr. Edwards to 
cum. She felt her own orgasm building. As she rocked on 
her heels faster and faster, Mr. Edwards reached 
underneath Elizabeth's blouse and took both of her 
nipples between his thumb and forefinger and pinched 
hard. This was too much for Elizabeth.

She'd never realized how sensitive her breasts were. As 
Mr. Edwards pinched her nipples, he pulled them out 
from the bra. Elizabeth exploded in orgasm moaning loud 
enough where it could be heard through the door. Mr. 
Edwards said nothing as he tensed. Feeling the swelling 
of his cock caused Elizabeth's orgasm to increase in 
intensity. 

Suddenly, Mr. Edwards took his cock from her cunt. 
Elizabeth moaned her disappointment until she heard Mr. 
Edwards ordered her to turn around and get on her 
knees. Elizabeth obediently complied and Mr. Edwards's 
cock pointed right at her lips. Elizabeth never 
performed oral sex with John but she instinctively 
seemed to know what to do.

Elizabeth opened her mouth and took almost half of Mr. 
Edwards's cock inside. As Elizabeth swirled her tongue 
around the massive tool, she pushed it into the slit at 
the end tasting his precum. Mr. Edwards placed his 
hands on the back of Elizabeth's head and forced his 
cock further into her mouth. She felt the first splash 
of seminal fluid on the back of her throat and quickly 
swallowed to prevent any from escaping. Mr. Edwards 
shot another load into her mouth then pulled his cock 
out.

"Hold your mouth open," he ordered as he furiously 
stroked his cock. Elizabeth was able to catch the 
remaining to globs of cum and swallowed them as she 
watched Mr. Edwards's cock slowly go limp. 

As Mr. Edwards replaced his cock in his pants and 
zipped his trousers, Elizabeth stood up and pulled down 
her skirt, waiting.

"I will not get the panties back," Mr. Edwards said, 
"you are now the company 'Slut' and you are never to 
wear any panties. You can clean up in my restroom, but 
you are not to brush your teeth or drink water."

Elizabeth hurried into the bathroom and pulled her 
skirt up and sat on the toilet. She could taste the 
semen in her mouth and heard the cum dropping out of 
her cunt into the water. She took some toilet paper and 
tried to wipe the residual from her cunt. Elizabeth 
stood and looked in the mirror. Her face was flushed, 
but makeup was okay. She "fixed" her hair and smooth 
her skirt and came back into the office. Mr. Edwards 
was sitting behind the desk again. Elizabeth came and 
stood in front of it.

Before leaving, Mr. Edwards gave Elizabeth specific 
instructions. Elizabeth was to never wear panties. Her 
bras were to always be black and a size too small. Her 
skirts must be at least six inches above her knees and 
his final instructions were that Elizabeth was to shave 
her pussy and ass.

"You are officially the company 'Slut,' don't let me 
down," Mr. Edwards said to Elizabeth then dismissed 
her.

Elizabeth exited the office and saw John sitting and 
waiting to go to lunch. Elizabeth panicked, John would 
want to kiss her, but she had just let another man cum 
in her mouth. Before Elizabeth could think of what to 
do, John's mouth was on hers and his tongue probing her 
mouth. The kiss lasted less than fifteen seconds and 
Elizabeth was relieved when he did not mention her 
"tasting" funny.

Elizabeth went to her desk and grabbed her purse for 
lunch. As she walked out of the office with her 
husband, she felt incredibly sexy wearing no panties. 
She felt the cum from Mr. Edwards slowly sliding down 
the inside of her thigh and quickly told her husband 
she needed to use the restroom before leaving. 

As Elizabeth re-entered the office, she thought she 
could feel the stares of the other secretary's and she 
wondered if they knew about her expanded job duties.

More about → EXPANDED JOB DUTIES FOR ELIZABETH