Martha Washburn the 35 year executive secretary of the firm is caught stealing by the new CEO
I’ll confess, I was a little afraid. I’d just become the Chief Executive Officer of Schwartz Ring and Bearing Company, the firm that my grandfather had founded thirty-five years previously.
It wasn’t that I felt unprepared; I was twenty-seven years old with a Masters of Business Administration. I had worked summers in all of the departments of the company from the time I was seventeen until I’d graduated with my MBA then I’d started full time. Most recently I’d been vice-president of marketing headquartering in our Birmingham office.
My father had followed my grandfather as the head of the firm but with his recent, unexpected death the mantle fell to me, I was coming home to our Illinois home office.
Schwartz Ring and Bearing was a family owned company, all the stock save 100 shares was in the hands of my sister and myself; the 100 shares were owned by Martha Washburn. Martha had been first my grandfather’s executive secretary then my father’s and now she would be mine. Grandfather had given her the shares. She was 57 years old and had been with the company for it’s entire existence, all thirty-five years.
I felt so lucky to have her, her knowledge of the company and our clients would be priceless and, truth be told I adored her. She had literally known me all of my life, when I was young and grandfather would bring me to work with him she always had a little treat for me and, in my adolescence I’d had a killer crush on her.
Martha was still a handsome woman, impeccably dressed and groomed, her hair always styled and stylish, her nails perfectly manicured, her faint amount of make-up tastefully applied. She’d never married and, to the best of my knowledge had never dated; I had suspicions about her and my grandfather but never any more than that.
She was everything I expected her to be; she took care of getting my signature added to company bank accounts, set up appointments with the company attorneys and accountants, provided verbal introductions to our largest clients, all in all she smoothed the way for me as I assumed my new position and I was grateful; she was absolutely indispensable.
I was single and not dating and there was a little apartment off my executive office, just a sofa, easy chair, bed, dresser and a mini-fridge along with a closet, I’d use it as living quarters until I could find a house that appealed to me then it would be where I’d keep a change of clothes, but it would be convenient if I had to stay late in the office which would no doubt happened at least once a week.
It was a Tuesday, not usually a really busy day but this one had been hectic. It was after six, Martha was still there working along side of me; I’d be spending the night in my apartment but I needed to get something to eat. I asked Martha to join me.
We shared an Italian dinner and split a bottle of Chianti then drove back to the office. I told her I was going to work a little longer then I walked her to her car, it was a new model Lexus; I remember commenting, “Nice car.” She thanked me for the compliment and for dinner then drove off.
Her light fragrance lingered in my senses as I returned to work; I had to confess to myself, I still found her alluring.
It took a bit of time but with Martha’s unending help I finally settled into my routine; I wanted to thank Martha for her unhesitating assistance so I arranged for a special dinner, just the two of us and I was going to give her a salary increase and an additional 100 shares of the company.
We went French, the meal was exquisite, her company even more so. When I told her of her salary increase she thanked me but when I presented her shares she was moved, with tears of happiness in her eyes she leaned over and kissed me on the cheek; “Thank you, this means so much to me Chris.”
Unbeknownst to anyone within the company; our attorneys, our accountants, yes, even Martha I’d engaged an outside company to conduct an audit of the firm. It wasn’t that I suspected anything untoward but I was new, I wanted to know the overall condition of the business.
A week later I received a call. The auditor wanted to meet with me in some place other than the office; we made an appointment for dinner for two nights later.
Over before dinner cocktails he opened his briefcase and extracted a folder. He laid it on the table and said, “Here is your completed report.”
“God news, I hope,” I quipped.
“Well the company overall is in excellent condition but there is an area of concern that you need to be aware of.”
“And that is?” I asked.
“You have pilferage taking place. It’s not large amounts at any one time, mostly petty cash, but it has been ongoing for quite a lengthy period of time. In fact it predates the scope of our audit, it goes back at least ten years.”
“Oh shit,” I exclaimed, “Any idea who it is.”
“Yes, I have an excellent idea who the guilty party is, in fact there is only one person it can be.”
“Chris, this hurts and I know it’s going to hurt you to hear it but it can only be Martha Washburn.”
“Impossible,” I erupted, “Absolutely preposterous, there’s no way it’s Martha.”
“Chris, I understand but that’s what I’m sure is happening. What I’d like to do is arrange for video and audio surveillance of Martha’s office, see what turns up.”
Hesitantly I agreed. I expected that Martha would be exonerated in short order. I couldn’t have been more wrong. Within two weeks I was presented with a grainy tape showing Martha surreptitiously folding several bills from the petty cash drawer and slipping them into her purse; I was physically sick, I rushed to the washroom as my stomach erupted.
Still, I wasn’t completely convinced; the monitoring continued; unfortunately so did the thievery.
Oh Martha, my Martha, what are you doing and why? I had to terminate her and go to the police but before I did I had to confront her.
How long had this been going on and why, why would she steal?
I needed a couple of days to digest what she was doing.
I guess I was distant from Martha and mopey around the office. Martha pressed me, what was wrong? Her concern was sincere; I couldn’t answer.
Finally, the day of the confrontation and I was still torn; she was one of my very favorite people and she was stealing from me. I asked her to stay late after work saying that there were things I wanted to discuss with her.
After the office was closed I locked up and led Martha back to my apartment.
Damn it, she still stirred me; she was wearing a dotted Swiss dress, black polka dots with thin shoulder straps and a bit of flirtatious tulle around the bottom, her brassiere had to be strapless to accommodate the thin shoulder straps; her shoes were white sandals. I seated her on the sofa and asked if she’d like a glass of wine; I poured each of us a glass of a crisp Chardonnay then sat in the easy chair.
I just watched her as she sipped her wine. She must have grown uncomfortable under my silent gaze, finally she asked what it was that I wanted to discuss with her.
“How much Martha, why and how much?”
“Chris, what on earth are you talking about?”
“Martha, I know what you’ve been doing, please don’t compound this by lying to me.”
“Martha, I have security camera recordings of your dishonesty, so please don’t dissemble, answer my questions.”
“How much and why Martha.”
She was trembling so badly she dropped her wine glass. The handsome composed woman that was Martha Washburn was falling apart. She gagged then jumped up and stumbled to the bathroom; without even closing the door she dropped her panties and peed, she’d nearly lost control and wet herself, barely making it.
Long after her stream had stopped she remained in the bathroom, eventually I checked on her. She was still sitting on the commode with her panties around her ankles crying.
Looking up at me with her tear stained eyes she pled, “I’m so sorry Chris.”
I asked her to stand then bent and pulled her panties back into place, “Come on Martha, we still need to have that talk.”
“Martha I know this has been going on for over ten years, why?”
“I like nice things and I like to gamble a little, when it started I promised myself that I’d repay what I’d taken from my winnings but I never won enough to get ahead.”
“How much have you taken Martha?”
“Chris, should I get an attorney before I say too much?”
“You may if you choose but I’m not law enforcement. If you want an attorney I’ll phone the police and let them interview you.”
“No, I’ll talk to you. I’ve taken at least a hundred thousand over the last twenty-five years.”
“You started with my grandfather then all through Dad’s term and now mine, correct.”
Again she teared up, “Yes Chris,” she sobbed, “ I’ve done that.”
“Chris, please don’t call the police, I know I couldn’t live if they sent me to prison, I just couldn’t.”
Truthfully, I couldn’t picture this fastidiously neat lady in a gray dress and flip flops behind bars but then; I couldn’t picture her as a thief either.
“What do you suggest then Martha, what should I do?”
“Maybe you could just lay me off so my reputation isn’t destroyed. I could get another job and repay you.”
“That is a thought, isn’t it? But consider Martha, let’s settle on a hundred thousand dollars as what’s owed, even at five thousand a year which would be tough to do it would take you twenty years to make restitution, you’d be seventy-seven, I don’t think that would work; besides you’re my problem, I wouldn’t want you working for someone else; my problem becoming theirs; no we’ll deal with things here.”
There was a stirring in my slacks, I was becoming erect and suddenly I knew what I wanted; I wanted Martha, I wanted her as urgently as when I was thirteen. No question, what I had in mind was coercion, but so be it, she’d keep the life she’d created for herself with one minor change; she’d have a young lover in it; me.
I stood, walked to Martha and pulled her to her feet.
“No police, no loss of job, still my executive secretary, no reduction of income and no restitution if you accept my punishment, otherwise it’s the police, questioning, confession, trial, jail, your choice.”
Her pretty dotted Swiss dress had a tie in the back; I unknotted the bow and unzipped the dress, dropping it at her feet.
“Step out,” I instructed.
“Chris what are you doing,” she asked in a trembling voice, but she complied.
I unhooked her strapless bra and let it fall to the floor. For a woman of fifty-seven she was exceptionally firm, I admired her for a few moments.
She was wearing black thigh high hose; I decided to leave then on. I told her to step out of her shoes.
I sat on the chair and positioned her in front of me.
“Martha, you’ve been a very bad girl, haven’t you?”
She stood mutely, I repeated, “Haven’t you.”
In an almost silent whisper she replied, “Yes.”
“What happens to bad girls Martha?”
“Please don’t Chris, I’ll die of embarrassment.”
“You’d rather see the police, endure your strip and body cavity search and be locked in jail?”
“No Chris, I don’t want that,” she said as she leaned over my lap.
I jiggled her a little to get her into position. For the first time I noticed her panties, silk, smooth, cool, silk, expensive; I rubbed her upraised bottom as I got her ready.
Thwack, thwack, thwack ten stinging blows fell on her pantied bottom. Martha squirmed on my lap, yelping then wailing from her spanking. I stopped and again rubbed her then lowered her panties to her knees.
Crack, crack, crack the sound of my palm on her bare bottom, reddening her, stinging and burning her as she sobbed.
I helped her stand then lowered her to the bed.
“That was for how badly you’ve disappointed me but the next is for the company.”
I slipped out of my clothes, took her panties off and spread her legs.
“Oooooooooooooooo Nooooooooooooooo, please Chris, not this, you can’t, please, please don’t, My God, Chris, I’m a virgin.”
She was squirming, kicking, trying to escape, “Sorry Martha, I guess one could say you screwed the company, this is your payback.”
My fingers were at her vagina, she was dry, not lubricating, I got a little Vaseline from the jar at my bedside and got her ready.
When she felt the head of my cock at her entrance she went berserk trying to escape. I forced her legs back, exposing her to me and forced my way in.
Unbelievable, she WAS a virgin; my cock met her fifty-seven year old hymen.
I couldn’t help myself; she’d wounded me so badly with what she’d done, I said, “Martha, question whether or not it was worth it,” as I thrust forward, tearing her tender tissues, taking her precious virginity.
Oh God, she was tight; I’d never been in any that approached in that regard. Her sounds were music to my ears, she’d cried out when I’d broken her hymen, then little sobs through a throaty moan.
I set up a nice rhythm, pumping her deep, opening her, stretching heretofore un-violated vaginal tissue; she was in a word, magnificent; then a thought struck.
“Have you gone through menopause yet?” I asked.
“Yes, damn, yes, oh you’re hurting me Chris, please stop.”
“Martha, I’m afraid you’re going to have to get accustomed to it, this won’t be the only time, I’ll want you again and often. I didn’t know how I’d feel about doing this but I’ll tell you, it’s wonderful, God Martha, I’ll confess, I’m fulfilling my boyhood dreams. Her tears continued as I pounded into her, thrusting deep, lubricated by her virginal blood.
I felt myself swell and pumped harder, my cock jerked as I poured my scalding semen into Martha, I stayed in her until I’d softened then rolled off.
She was sobbing, “Why Chris, why, God why; I feel so humiliated, so debased.”
“And how do you think I feel Martha, I put all of my trust in you and you violated that trust; not only to me but to my father and grandfather before me. Now you’ve been violated, it only seems fair.”
She rolled over onto her tummy, showing me her back; I don’t believe she achieved her purpose; I massaged her bottom, kneading her cheeks then leaned and kissed them.
“Martha, you have a spectacular bottom for a lady of fifty-seven, in fact it would be wonderful on a twenty-seven year old,” I told her as I slipped a finger into her crack and teased her anus.
“Please Chris, no more, don’t make me do that, too, I just can’t take any more,” she begged.
I wasn’t going to sodomize her, at least not today but I wanted her to experience a little more degradation, I positioned myself between her legs and, with a hand on each cheek I opened her.
She leapt like it was fire as my tongue touched her, I held her in place as I rimmed her then dipped my tongue into her and pumped her with its tip.
She moaned, pleading with me to stop, begging for me to end the lewd lasciviousness of my onslaught; I ignored her pleas.
She was well lubricated with my saliva, her entreaties for me to stop hadn’t ceased but she was pumping her hips against the mattress, raising her bottom to receive my attention, I rolled beside her and turned her into my arms; my hand cupped her bottom as a finger slid between her firm cheeks and ringed her tight rosebud.
Kissing her lips, I pulled her into an embrace, holding her tightly as I slipped the finger into her. She thrust forward when she was penetrated, her groin grinding against my erection; I pumped her tight bottom giving her an example, a threat and a promise of what was to come.
Her voice was quivering with fear, she asked, “Please Chris, you’re not going to sodomize me, are you? Oh God, please don’t do that to me, you can’t hate me that much can you?”
“No, Martha, I’m not going to have anal sex with you, at least not tonight; but sweet lady it seems to me that your body is betraying you. Your mouth says please no but your body seems to be responding.”
“Chris it’s so dirty, I mean you know what I do there, how could you want to do that?”
“It feels good doesn’t it Martha, you liked the feeling you got, didn’t you.”
“It’s filthy, a dirty thing to do, I can’t like that, no, I don’t like it.”
My finger was still in her, I pressed deeper and she moaned and ground against me harder.
When I’d finally finished we talked, I had instructions for her.
“Martha you can walk out tonight and never come back. If that is your choice I won’t initiate any prosecution against you. I guess I’ve loved you since I was, well, from before I can remember, I couldn’t see you put in jail. I won’t ask for restitution, you’d never be able to fulfill any repayment schedule anyhow.”
“You’d let me just walk away?” She asked in amazement.
“Yes, I’d do that but I couldn’t give you a good job reference and, let’s face it, if you leave a job after thirty-five years, prospective employers will have questions.”
“You really don’t leave me many options, do you Chris?”
“Of course I do, I’d be tickled to death if you arrived at work tomorrow and did the job you’ve been doing for thirty-five years, except for your little peccadillo that we’re working through you’ve been nothing but an asset to the company.”
“You’d let me stay?” She asked in amazement.
“Martha, I’d like to insist you stay, although there will be a slight alteration in our relationship.”
She said nothing but there was a quizzical, questioning look on her face.
“Tomorrow, when you come in, bring a little suitcase with your sundry lady things, a hairbrush, a couple of changes of clothing, a nightgown or two and several changes of underwear; make it silk, I love the feel, we’ll put it in my little apartment. ”
“Oh my God Chris, I’m fifty-seven years old, old enough to be your mother; what do you want from me? Am I to be your concubine?”
“Concubine, an antiquated word but, yes, that’s exactly what I want.”
Martha stumbled out to her car, she was shaken to her very core; walk away to an unknown and unforgiving future or become little more that Chris’ sex slave? She was sore from the loss of her virginity and she was in a quandary. She got no sleep that night.
Work started at Schwartz Ring and Bearing at nine each morning; at eight forty-five Martha arrived at the office; she had a little suitcase in her hand.
“Good morning,” Chris greeted her, “Plan on dinner tonight to consummate our agreement, we’ll leave at six.”
He took her suitcase and put it in his apartment, “You can unpack later.”
The day seemed to fly for Martha, trepidation about the coming evening gnawed at her; what had she gotten herself into?
Six came far too soon, they left, Chris drove.
It was a little bistro, a trio playing smoky jazz as background music and a dinner comprised of an assortment of tasty hors d’hoeuvres, she’d had a cosmopolitan while they waited and glasses of both red and white wines with their meal; Martha was feeling a little mellow by the time they left.
He drove back and took her into the apartment for a little conversation.
“Martha, you like nice things, nice clothes, jewelry and the coddling of day spas and manicurists, true?”
“I confess I do like to be pretty and pampered, is that so wrong?”
“Nothing at all wrong with that IF you can afford it, right?”
“Please Chris, I am sorry for what I did.”
“I know you are Martha, that’s not the point I’m getting at. You also like to gamble a little, is that accurate?”
“It’s my vice, I’ve tried to quit, I can’t.”
“I understand, I’m a bit of a player myself but, again, IF you can afford to lose; you can’t, true?”
“How can I deny that, that’s why I did what I’ve done.”
“Martha, I’ll make a bargain with you. You’ll have your salary, use it for your personal needs, clothing and that sort of thing but you can only gamble when you’re with me, I’ll give you a gambling allowance, when you’ve lost it, you’re done for the evening, fair enough?”
“Oh Chris, that’s more than fair, how can I ever repay you for your generosity?”
“Oh believe me, you will. You’ll become my lover, I’ve wanted you since I was a young teen; I’ll want you at my beck and call.”
“You are going to make me your concubine.”
“I prefer lover, but, yes, that’s what I’ll demand and demand is the absolutely accurate term. We’d have only two rules that I would require you to adhere to. First, I expect you to be my willing lover, available when I ask and second that you keep your gambling to the amount I give you as your stake, is that manageable for you?”
Martha had a contented smile on her face, it was hardly a severe price to pay for what she’d done but she did have to ask one question.
“What happens if I break one of the rules?”
“Did you bring a hairbrush like I asked you to?”
“Yes, it’s in my suitcase, why?”
“Because I’ll use it to blister your bottom, understand?”
His reply shocked Martha, she knew it wasn’t a threat, it was more a promise and she shivered at the thought; “Yes Chris, I understand.”
“Okay, let’s get your things put away.”
I sat and watched as Martha stowed her things in the dresser, bathroom and closet. I enjoyed the view; she was clad in a cute pencil skirt with a hibiscus print, it fell just to her knees, her blouse was white accessorized with a broach featuring the hibiscus design and colors, her shoes were red three inch heels accentuating her slim calves, she was a gorgeous, mature woman.
“Leave the hairbrush out on the dresser in case I need it,” I instructed, then added, “No, wait, bring it to me, please.”
As she carried it to me I commented on her wardrobe and how nice she looked.
I took the brush and laid it on the floor beside my chair then I stood and began unbuttoning her blouse.
She voiced no objections as I took it from her shoulders and tossed it onto the sofa, her brassiere soon followed; I massaged her breasts as I kissed her; you are a beautiful woman I said as I sat; worked her skirt up over her hips and lowered her over my lap.
Her panties were black silk, sexy and smooth, I caressed her bottom through the fabric.
She still had on her little red shoes and thigh high hose with a black seam up the back.
She could tell a spanking was in the works; I struck without preamble, five firm whacks on the seat of her panties. She was squirming but no tears; that was about to change. I lowered her panties to mid-thigh, picked up the hairbrush and struck her five rapid blows. She wailed in pain as she was first struck and was in tears, sobbing and pleading by the time number five fell.
“I wanted you to know the bite of this hairbrush so you won’t be tempted to break my rules,” I told as I pulled her panties back into place.
I kept her on my lap, massaging her sore bottom until she stopped crying, then I helped her to stand, unfastened and unzipped her skirt and took it off.
She stood before me; leaking eyes, naked breasts, her pretty black silk panties, thigh high hosiery and red heels, no doubt the sexiest sight I’ve ever had the pleasure to behold.
“You’re absolutely, stunningly beautiful Martha, unquestionable good enough to eat.”
Martha’s sexual experiences were so limited that she didn’t understand the innuendo of my statement; she had no inkling that I meant it in the most literal sense as I stood and led her to the bed.
I laid her down then removed my clothing and joined her on the mattress where I took her into my arms and kissed her ravenously. It took a few minutes but finally she responded, opening her mouth and accepting my tongue then kissing me back. I moved down, kissing her throat and down to her breasts, Martha might only be once removed from virginity but her body was responding, her breasts were swollen and her nipples stiff.
Her breathing was ragged as I sucked on one breast while I massaged and gently squeezed the other. After both had been attended to, I kissed down to her taut tummy. One hand was between her legs, rubbing her through her panties then I pulled then down and took them over her feet.
As I kissed and licked over her mound she moaned, “Chris what are you doing, don’t do that, that’s dirty, that’s where I pee.”
She quit her bitching when my tongue parted her labia and I laved her vulva, now it was,
“Unnnnnnnngh, oh God, Chrisssssssss.”
She had a light, almost girlish taste and aroma, heady, citrus/salt flavor and the salty scent of sea air; I reveled in her; my adolescent desires were being fulfilled.
I licked, top to bottom, enjoying her; at her vagina I dipped in my tongue then moved lower, across her perineum and to her anus where I gave her a quick rimming then moved north, sucking and nibbling on her labia until I found her hooded clitoris. With my fingers I induced the little man in the boat to show then I took it between my lips and sucked like I was nursing. I pulled her delectable little opaline pearl into my mouth then batted it with the tip of my tongue; poor Martha had never experienced anything like what was happening to her right now.
Her whole body started to tremble as her organs clenched, she cried out fearfully, “God Chris what are you doing to me, Oooooooooooooooo, what’s happening to me,” was her last cry before she gushed.
And gush she did, a flood spewed from her vagina, soaking me and the bed clothes, pulse after pulse as her uterus and vagina contracted, she went off like an erupting Vesuvius, accompanied by her wailing sounds. I licked her nectar, sucking at her vaginal opening, demanding more, she obliged, her flow filling my mouth; it was more spectacular than I could have imagined I stayed on her until she begged for relief; she was so sensitive that she couldn’t endure any more.
She laid in my arms, “My God Chris, what did you do to me.”
“Still think it’s dirty?”
“Yes, it IS dirty, you licked where I pee, that’s nasty.”
“Want me to do it again?”
In a shy, quiet, quivery voice she answered, “Yes, I do want you to do it again. I’ve never been so aroused, so excited in my life. It was the most fabulous feeling I’ve ever experienced, so, I’ll just wash really good down there so I’m not dirty.”
“I adored the taste of you Martha, I like you just like you are; don’t change anything.”
“Chris, what’s happening to me, yesterday morning I was a fifty-seven year old virgin thief, now you’re taking me as your lover; you a rich, handsome young man; what do you want from me?”
“I want you as my lover and, hopefully some day as my love.”
Playfully I rolled her onto her tummy and attended to her bottom, kneading and massaging her luscious cheeks then spreading her and giving her my tongue; when she was sufficiently moistened I invaded her with my finger, enjoying the fact that she was rocking back to meet my hand.
“You really like doing that to me, don’t you?” Martha asked.
Coyly I asked, “Whatever do you mean?”
“You know I like the feel but you also know you scare me when you do that.”
“Why would you be scared?”
“I’m afraid you’re going to, well you know why I’m afraid damn it.”
“You think I’m going to sodomize you, don’t you?”
“Yes Chris, that scares me, I know I find what you do exciting but it’s so dirty and I’m afraid it will hurt.”
“Martha, I won’t sodomize you unwillingly, I think and hope that one day you’ll offer yourself to me but I’ll never force the issue. Now, about dirty, we’ll deal with that and yes, it may hurt a little but with a lot of lubrication, patience and love, I think you can learn to like it, after all, we’ve proven by your reactions that you are anal erotic, we just need to develop that.”
I helped her to roll onto her back, sex tonight would again be in the missionary position, we would try other things over the next few days but tonight I wanted to be able to see her eyes, her face as I penetrated her; I ran my cock along her vulva, found her vagina and thrust in. She exhibited a wince of pain as I slid in, it was only her second time and she was still tender from the loss of her virginity the previous night, but as she accepted me a small smile crossed her face.
Martha’s thoughts wandered to an earlier time. She’d stayed a virgin because the only man she’d ever loved was Chris’ grandfather and he was married, he wouldn’t stray from the straight and narrow path; she’s waited and waited for him but all that happened was that the years bled past, she was forty-two when he retired to his Florida condo; middle aged, still virgin; her love unrequited, but now she felt a change coming over her; she DID want the love of man, a Schwartz man; she did want to be Chris’ woman, his lover.
She was beginning to realize what she’d denied herself, God it was so pleasant with a man between her thighs; a man who wanted her, wanted to give her pleasure, a man who cared for her in spite of the disappointment she’d given him.
“Chris, could you suck on my breasts while we’re doing it, please.”
It was with gusto that I went after her, swollen nipples filled my mouth as my cock filled Martha’s tight vagina. I mounted her, riding her high so my penis grazed her clit with every stroke, she reacted wondrously, encircling my waist with her legs and pulling me further and harder onto her. I maintained a rhythm until she started to build toward her climax then I pumped faster and harder, I wanted to meet her at the top, we did, she didn’t spew as she’d done to oral sex but still her flow was copious, and joined with mine, the bed was soaked.
“Stay the night with me Martha,” I asked.
“Only if we can change these sheets,” she replied and I think maybe she was serious, I let her change the sheets.
“Can I have my panties back, I don’t want to leak all over the fresh sheets.”
And her plush posterior was again wrapped in black silk.
We slept entwined in each other’s arms. Around four in the morning I awakened, Martha looked so fresh and innocent, my cock sprang to attention. I cupped her sex through her panties; she stirred but didn’t awaken, I opened her legs and admired her, my desire was overwhelming; I slid the gusset of her pretty silk panties to the side, exposing Martha’s sex, she was still damp from earlier, I positioned myself between her thighs; she came awake as my cock slid into her. I kissed her and said, “I couldn’t resist, you’re so darn sexy, so desirable.”
“Chris I want you to want me, I’m glad you took me like this, it makes me feel pretty, it makes me feel desired and it makes me feel good when you fill me.”
I finished pretty quickly, Martha didn’t climax, I pulled out, her panties slipped back into place, then I again took her into my arms as we both drifted off into sleep.
Our working relationship continued to progress, she truly was my stalwart right hand; she was rapidly regaining my trust; I was no longer concerned about her honesty and, as a lover she was all I could ask. It was like she was trying to make up for lost time; even oral, her giving, me receiving came into our repertoire albeit hesitantly. My lady still had her “dirty” apprehension. Finally, one evening after we returned from dinner I gave her a warm washcloth.
“If I’m dirty, wash me.”
She did, then, tentatively, she licked me; top to bottom along my shaft. I’d taken to calling her my “Sexy Mama,” I encouraged her, “Oooooh, Sexy Mama makes me feel so good, take me between your lips, let me feel your tongue.
For the first time she engulfed me; she was only brave enough to take about half of my length; still she bobbed on me until I was ready. I handed her a box of Kleenex and told her I was nearly ready to cum; I really didn’t expect her to swallow, at least not this first time; I was hoping that she’d surprise me but Martha is that old fashioned, conservative girl; she grabbed the Kleenex.
Yeah, I was a little disappointed but I’d never let Martha know. She looked up at me, her pretty eyes were glistening and her beautiful face was wreathed with a smile; she was so damned proud of her accomplishment.
“Sexy Mama, fantastic, absolutely spectacular, come her, kiss me, be my sexy woman.”
She snuggled into my waiting arms, “Did you like that Chris? Was I good for you?” She wanted my approval, my affirmation.
“It couldn’t have been better,” I encouraged her.
Just a few moments later I reciprocated, my Sexy Mama had become perhaps the world’s greatest adherent of cunnilingus and I loved giving it to her; it was the only time she squirted and her gyrations as she climaxed were beyond deion. I fed on her, drinking her pungent nectar as she flowed.
As I often did, I rolled her onto her tummy and gave her a little anal play. She like the attention but, steadfastly maintained that she was “dirty” there; I vowed to myself to convince her otherwise; I decided to set a little plan in motion.
The next day at the office, before lunch, I asked her to pick up some take-out Thai Pad; I also gave her a little shopping list of things I wanted her to bring back; they were all available at Walgreen’s.
She read over the list; her eyes flew open; “Chris?”
“My Sexy Mama won’t be dirty any more,” I said with a wicked smile, pivoted and walked back into my office.
I watched her squirm in her desk chair, she no doubt knew what was in store for her later this evening and was not anxious for evening to come. She looked back through my open office door, her face uncertain and fearful. Then she called in the food order, picked up her purse and left.
When she returned we shared lunch on the dining table in my apartment. Like the eight hundred pound gorilla, the bag from Walgreen’s dominated the room; it sat on the sofa, unopened but we both knew what it contained.
Nonchalantly I asked what her dinner preference would be, mentioning that I’d like some seafood.
“Whatever you’d like Chris is fine with me,” she answered, she was distracted, she couldn’t take her eyes from the bag.
After we’d returned to work I found it entertaining watching Martha squirm in her chair and cast furtive glances my way; at five after six I finally said, “Come on Sexy Mama, grab your purse and let’s eat.”
We went to the “Lobster Shanty,” had pre-dinner drinks then shrimp cocktails before Maine lobsters, by the time we’d finished my hunger for seafood was sated but Martha had just picked at her food; she’d sat, her bottom wriggling in her chair like she had ants in her pants. I asked Martha if she wanted to stop some place for a nightcap; I really wanted to check to find out whether or not she wanted to avoid going home, delay the inevitable, if you will.
I was proud of her when she said, “No, let’s just have something at home.”
As we drove homeward, Martha began to speak.
“You know I should fight you over this, don’t you. This is going to be the most embarrassing scenario imaginable for me.”
“Martha, you can do it yourself, privately.”
“No Chris, I can’t, if it’s to be done you’re going to do it, I couldn’t do it myself, although it does seem I’ve talked myself into this situation, haven’t I?”
“It does seem so, yes,” I answered.
At home I directed, “Get the equipment for me please, Martha, I’ll get the water.”
I waited until the water was running nice and warm then half filled a bucket and stirred in two packets of Castile soap; Martha was seated in my easy chair, still fully clothed but waiting. In her hand she had a tube of lubricant and her brand new 10-ounce bulb enema syringe with the large nozzle; she wouldn’t be so “dirty” after tonight.
She stood and I began to undress her.
“I think I’d like you completely nude tonight,” I told her.
“Chris darling, I don’t mind showing you my body at all but I confess, I didn’t expect such an intimate inspection as I’m going to receive.”
I slowly undressed Martha, first her shoes then her outerwear, I wanted to be able to admire her breasts, so off came her bra and finally her stockings then I stripped to just my boxer shorts, sat and guided Martha down over my lap.
She looked so sexy; desirable and vulnerable, tummy down, bottom raised, still swathed in soft silk panties, waiting; I drew it out; massaging her succulent bottom, teasing and toying with her, heightening her arousal. I slipped a hand between her legs, she was already lubricating heavily; her breathing was raspy, she arched her back lifting her bottom.
She’d bought KY Jelly, I would use it instead of Vaseline, I lowered her panties to mid-thigh then I rubbed some on her and probed her with a finger before filling the bulb and greasing the nozzle.
“It’s time Sexy Mama,” I told her as I parted her cheeks, touched the nozzle to her opening and slowly pushed it in. I emptied the first enema then refilled the bulb and gave her a second.
“Martha, I’m only going to give you two for now, these have soap in them, I want to clean out your lower bowel, then I’ll give you a bigger one with just clear water to rinse you. You’ll be my super clean Sexy Mama.”
I held her on my lap, rubbing her bottom, sides and back until she began to squirm, “I need to go Chris,” she told me. I helped her to her feet; she quick stepped to the toilet, one hand holding her panties up while I rinsed the syringe and bucket then refilled with warm, clear water.
I was seated, waiting when she came back; she again eased down over my lap.
“How do you feel Sexy?” I asked.
“A little drained, I’ve never had an enema before. Chris, why have you left my panties on, this might be easier without them.”
“Mama, they’ll be off soon enough but I wanted my cute little filly hobbled for the first time, there will be no escaping,” I teased her.
“I’d never try to escape you; I will confess, I’ve been worried and scared since you had me buy these things. I couldn’t imagine what it would be like; I thought I’d be embarrassed. I know you’re familiar with my body but this is different; you’re probing my most intimate places and I’m giving myself over to you, letting you touch me, penetrate me in ways I’d never imagined; I was scared.”
“Maybe a little, the big one’s yet to come but it’s more a sweet surrender, like I’m giving myself to you completely and that gives me a quivery tummy and a moist vagina; I do feel just a little foolish laying her belly down, bottom up holding a conversation, though,” she chuckled.
“Well then, let’s proceed,” I said as I spread her cheeks and inserted her nozzle.
“You know, it feels nice, relaxing when the water flows into me,” Martha told me.
I gave her the second bulb.
“Ummmmm, yes, that’s pleasant,” she cooed.
It wasn’t until she’d accepted six bulbs that she felt any discomfort, with a little moan, “Oh I’m getting a little cramp.”
I reached under her and rubbed her tummy, a circular motion, working the water further into her colon. I wanted to fill her sigmoid, descending, transverse and ascending colons, to flush her completely. When she ceased her moaning I inserted another bulb.
Again, she cramped, again I massaged her, her abdomen was filling; swelling.
“It feels like a little baby bump,” I said as I rubbed her bloat.
With a sigh Martha whispered, “I wish it was, I wish we could, I’d love to have your baby Chris.”
“It would be nice, wouldn’t it,” I agreed as I added another ten ounces, paused and rubbed.
With the ninth Martha broke out in a sweat and squirmed, her discomfort evident. I calmed her and gave her final injection; she’d taken sixty ounces, a little over three quarts, a prodigious amount for her first enema.
“We’re done Sexy Mama, now, just a few minutes for it to do its work,” I told her; I was rubbing her tummy, her back and her bottom.
After about five minutes the cramping became more severe, I helped her stand. She was bent, holding her abdomen; I supported her, walked her to the bathroom and helped her to sit. Had I been more the gentleman I’d have given her some privacy as she evacuated but, truthfully, I’m not sure she was even aware of my presence as I started filling the bath tub with hot water; I tossed in some scented bath salts and waited with her while she finished.
An enema of the quantity I’d given Martha does not expel immediately, she sweated and strained for almost twenty minutes. When she’d finished I stepped out, allowing her some privacy as she cleaned herself; when she flushed I went back in.
“Now a nice hot bath,” I said as I helped her into the tub.
First, I wiped her face, which got me a pained, whimsical smile, “God Chris that took it out of me, I feel like I’m drained.”
I gave her a little smile back, “It did take it out of you and you are drained,” I told her as I continued to bathe her, her neck, her succulent breasts then her torso, arms and legs and finally her feminine treasures.
I dried her with one of my big, fluffy Turkish towels then helped her into her prettiest nightgown and took her to bed.
As I lay her down she teased, “You aren’t going to hobble your filly?”
“No, I thought I’d make love to my Sexy Mama instead.”
I lay beside her and took her into my arms, “I’m afraid I’m in love with you Martha.”
“There’s nothing to be afraid of, I’ll never do anything to hurt you,” she promised as she gave me the most passionate kiss ever.
When our lips finally parted she said, “I liked the attention, even the cramping was worth it, are you going to do that for me again?”
“Are you still “dirty,” I asked.
“I’m not quite ready to take the next step Chris, long held feelings, opinions, don’t die all that easily.”
“Then, yes, you’ll get more enemas, I think you should have one every Friday night; how would you feel about that?”
“Like you cared about me and that I was surrendering myself to you; please, every Friday night would be wonderful.
Both of us were tremendously aroused by both our actions and our words, I kissed her eyes, her ears and down her throat then lifted her gown exposing her breasts. She was swollen, her nipples larger than gum drops, stiff and red with excitement; I took one into my mouth, sucking and pulling on it as though I was nursing, she thrust her bosom out to me and sighed.
Her tummy was soft, sleek and smooth, my lips and tongue tasted her flesh, I teased her navel then nibbled and nipped at the pelt covering her mons veneris and finally I parted her labia with the tip of my tongue. As I glided along her vulva, tasting her precious nectar she shivered, when I got the “little man in the boat” to come out to play, sucking and batting her little gem with my tongue she erupted.
God, I loved it when she climaxed from oral stimulation, that was the only time I could make her squirt; she soaked my face and her inner thighs, I sucked and licked until she finally was exhausted.
As I prepared to mount her she stopped me, “My turn,” she said as she pulled me up.
My Sexy Mama wanted to take me in her mouth. I’ll not deny, she wasn’t the most skilled fellatrix in the world but it wasn’t for lack of effort. She slid up and down my shaft, circling me with her tongue, enthusiastic in her efforts she soon could feel my penis swell; I handed the Kleenex box to her, she refused it and worked me all the harder.
“Oh Sexy, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum,” I cried out as my cock jerked filling her mouth. She stayed on me until my flow ceased then looked up. Her eyes were glistening, she hadn’t contained it all, there was a dribble at the left side of her mouth but her smile of satisfaction was unmistakable, it was a big step for her; I knew what it meant to her and what it had cost her, I pulled her up and kissed her; “Thank you Mama.”
“Did you like that Chris? Did I do good?”
“You did good, you are the most delectable Sexy Mama in the world.”
She was all smiles as she rolled onto her tummy; she was ready for our play; I didn’t disappoint.
Her bottom was so cute, I massaged and kneaded her as she softly murmured her pleasure. I opened her cheeks, teased her tight ring then used my tongue until she was wriggling then I added something we hadn’t done before.
I retrieved the KY and squeezed a little on my fingers, warmed it and smeared it on her anus as I said, “I’m not going to enter you, you’re in control of that,” as I eased up over her back and stroked my penis in her slick crack.
Martha tensed but again I told her it would be okay and asked her to relax.
I massaged her shoulders and reached under her to fondle her breasts as I continued to ride her. I could feel her tight muscles pulsating, her sphincter palpitating to the pressure but, then I was getting too close to cumming, I stopped and lifted her to her knees.
“I want you from behind Mama,” I told her.
I opened her legs a bit more and let her feel my fingers on her labia then I spread them and entered her. She groaned softly and settled back against me as I filled her.
I waited until her arousal became so intense that I knew she was on the verge of orgasm; I gripped each cheek, spread her and used my thumb to penetrate her.
She moaned when I parted her sphincters then trembled as first one then another and another orgasm washed through her, she wailed and pushed back against me forcing my digital invader deeper; I roared as I climaxed, pumping her with both cock and thumb until I was spent. I withdrew then leaned forward and kissed each cheek.
I was a little concerned, I asked, “Did I hurt you?”
“God no, that was great, fantastic,” she answered.
I lay beside her as she snuggled against me, a lot had happened, we were both tired, we slept.
Over the ensuing months I was so pleased with the decision I’d made about Martha, I’d never been happier in my life.
She and I managed to get away several weekends each month, and, yes, it was for gambling junkets. We’d been to Biloxi, Atlantic City, to Kansas City for the riverboats, hit Vegas and even flew over to Nassau. I gave her her gambling allowance and knew why she’d never been able to repay her unauthorized advances; I don’t think she ever won. Not the slots, not Blackjack, nothing treated Martha well but she had her fun and so did I.
Our sex was unbelievable, my fifty-seven year old Sexy Mama was almost more that this twenty-seven year old could handle; her bottom was still virgin but anything and everything else, we’d tried.
I’d finally purchased a nice three bedroom house with a pool and hot tub; although Martha still owned her home most nights were spent with me. We loved to have a swim in the heat of the day and then lounge in the hot tub after dark with a little wine and a lotta lovin’.
It was nearly a year since I’d taken over as CEO and I’d just reviewed and approved a contract with one of our biggest customers, I decided I’d carry the details over to my production superintendent, I hadn’t walked the floor of the manufacturing facility in several weeks, now I’d have a chance.
I walked into Martha’s work area, intent on telling her where I was going but as I came in I saw a flash of fear in her eyes and she shut down the web page she was viewing before she turned to me. I thought, if she was a male employee I’d know I’d just caught someone viewing porn on the company’s computers but I was sure that wasn’t the case with Martha. Nonetheless, I wanted to check to find out what I’d seen. Instead of taking the proposal myself I handed it to Martha and asked that she deliver it. I waited until she was on her way before going to her computer.
I swung into her chair and brought the screen back up. Martha had been too shaken to close out; she’d simply minimized the screen. The gambling site she’d been on came up displaying her account; a check of the history showed numerous visits; I was so disappointed, she’d done so well but she’d broken one of the two rules I’d set down. I minimized the screen again and returned to my office.
I had a hard time concentrating on work, honestly I was undecided about what to do; I know what I’d cautioned Martha but we’d come a long way since then; unquestionably I loved her and she was in love with me. Finally, perhaps it was rationalization, but I recalled what gambling had led her to do in the past and she well knew the rules that she was to abide by. I considered waiting until Friday; I suspected she might have a difficult and uncomfortable time sitting on the day after but then decided that I best get it over with, if necessary she could spend the following day on the bed in my apartment lying on her tummy with aloe gel easing her aches; besides, I had much more palatable use for her bottom on Fridays.
Time dragged until six. I suggested an early dinner, telling her I was a little hungry but really, I didn’t think either of us would feel up to going out later; we went light, sushi and a couple glasses of sake. She commented on my gloominess but I put her off.
At home we sat in the living room, I started, “Why Martha?”
She knew, knew what I was alluding to, “Chris, I’m so sorry to have disappointed you but I told you how difficult it is for me to stay away from it; you’re going to spank me, aren’t you?”
“I promised you that, so, yes, you’ve got a spanking coming.”
She got up and started walking toward the bedroom, “Can I keep my panties on, maybe you’ll want to hobble your little filly so she can’t get away,” there was sadness in her voice.
The hairbrush held a place of honor on the top of my vanity, I got it and laid it on the floor next to the chair we’d be using. I stripped to my boxers as she shed everything but her pair of pale yellow silk panties.
I sat; she came to me and bent over my lap.
“We’ll talk later, now let’s just get this over with,” I told her as I jiggled her into position and began.
I wasn’t spanking nearly as hard as I could, I didn’t want to injure her and, besides, this was going to be a lengthy punishment. I spanked first her right cheek then her left cheek alternating back and forth and so on, from the top of her buttocks down to the crack dividing her tush from her thighs; back and forth up and back, the swish of silk, the crack of flesh on reddening flesh.
Martha was whining, “Please Chris, that’s enough, I won’t do it again, please,” she didn’t realize I’d only just begun.
The fabric muffled most of the sound and provided a little, just a little protection. I was keeping my eye on the bedside alarm clock and Martha was writhing on my lap; the spanking continued until her eyes began to leak tears. At the ten minute mark I stopped and rubbed her bottom.
“Martha was a bad girl, wasn’t she?”
“Yes,” she whimpered.
“What happens to a bad girl Martha?”
“She gets spanked.”
“That’s right, she gets spanked,” I answered as I lowered her panties down to mid-thigh exposing her reddened bottom.
“No more Chris, please, no more,” she implored.
I began again though the sound was different, no silk to muffle the sharp crack as my palm met naked woman. Once more, first one cheek then the other, alternation left and right as I worked up and down, she was in full throated crying by now; I continued.
She attempted to escape, kicking and twisting; her panties kept her from being able to kick too well and my left arm encircled her, holding her writhing body down on my lap. The spanking continued as, again I watched the clock.
She’d by now quit trying to get away; she was making whimpering sounds interspaced by sobs until the ten minutes had expired.
I pulled her panties back into place and rubbed her sore bottom.
“You’ll follow the rules now, won’t you Martha?”
“Yessss, oh yessss, I won’t do it again Chris, never again.”
“Didn’t you promise that once before Martha?”
“Chris, please, please forgive me, I promise, never, never again.”
“Martha, I give you the money to indulge your passion for gambling, don’t I?”
“You promised me that you wouldn’t and I promised you something if you broke your promise; what did I promise you?” I asked as I reached down and picked up the hairbrush.
“Just a spanking Martha?”
She didn’t even want to say it, in the quietest most fearful whisper I’ve ever heard, “A spanking with the hairbrush.”
“That’s right, a spanking with the hairbrush; you haven’t gotten that yet have you?”
“Chris, please, I’m begging you, not that,” as the first blow fell.
She leapt as though I’d shocked her with a live wire when the brush met silk. The first was followed rapidly, a total of ten on each cheek on her pretty pale yellow panties. I paused and lowered her underwear to her knees.
Therwhack, the first of twenty on her bare bottom; by the time I quit she was lying limply over my lap, not struggling, nothing, just mewling like an injured kitten. I put down the brush and rubbed her back; her bottom looked too fiery to touch.
She was gently sobbing, hiccupping periodically as she tried to recover. Then she opened her legs just a little and asked, “Touch me Chris, touch me, please.”
I slid my hands between her splayed thighs and met with a surprise, as my fingers opened her labia her vulva was liquid, her vagina oozing, I merely touched her clitoris; she shivered as she climaxed.
“Did my Sexy Mama like her spanking?” I asked.
“God no, I’ve never hurt so much in my life. It wasn’t that, it’s that you care, you want what’s good for me even if I don’t always do what’s right. I know I might fall again sometime and I know you’ll be there to take care of me.”
“Yes Mama, I’ll be there for you, good or bad.”
She quieted and just lay with me holding her, still over my lap; I think I loved her even more than before.
Finally I asked if she’d like some aloe gel rubbed onto her bottom.
“Yes, oh yes, please.”
I helped her to stand then laid her on her tummy on the bed and got the aloe.
“This may be a little cold,” I cautioned.
“Lord I hope so, I’m on fire,” she lamented.
After I’d anointed her darling red tush I lay down beside her, pulled the sheet over us and with her nuzzling my chest we rested for the night.
Next morning my Sexy Mama was still awfully sore but she wouldn’t hear of not working, I soothed her with a little more of the aloe, she wore white cotton panties for their absorbency and took little pillow to sit on and I watch her squirm the day away at her desk as she tried vainly to find a comfortable position.
She caught me chuckling at her antics and called me a mean Daddy; the first time she’d spoken what was to become her pet name for me, I told her that if she wasn’t a bad little girl I wouldn’t be mean. A seeming contradiction since she was thirty years my senior chronologically but it was how our relationship had developed; I thought it was sweet.
She’d faded to a pleasing pink by Friday evening, she was looking forward to her enema and I was looking forward to giving it.
She still got the two bulbs with the Castile soap for a lower GI washout then ten doses of warm water and I still teased her about her baby bump when I’d filled her. Yes, I still stayed with her filling the tub while she emptied then bathed her, dressed her in a provocative nightie and took her to bed for oral before our anal play then intercourse. Tonight was no different although Martha was a little more anxious that usual.
Saturday was the surprise, we’d finished a light dinner, and we’d stayed in for a change. We had on some soft music and were enjoying after dinner drinks when she uncharacteristically climbed onto my lap and snuggled against me; she was shivering.
“Hold me, I’m a little scared would you Daddy?” She asked.
“What’s the matter Mama?” I asked.
“Am I still clean from last night?”
“Yes, it will last nearly three days, why?”
“I still feel like it’s dirty but I want to be your dirty little girl tonight if you’ll have me.”
“Martha, it’s not something you have to do,” I told her.
“I know Chris but you’ve been so kind to me, protected me from myself and made me feel loved and cherished; it’s something I want to do for you, to give to you.”
Shortly thereafter we found ourselves in bed in a passionate embrace, I was naked, Martha was still clad in light pink silk panties and nothing else.
When we came apart I laid a pillow at her hips and lifted her onto it so that her bottom was elevated; I slid her panties down and off and raised her legs so I could access her rosebud. KY and more KY, lubricating her fingering her, getting her ready.
She was tense. I massaged her hips, rubbed her tummy and talked to her, you need to relax for me Sexy Mama, if I hurt you, say so and I’ll stop, okay?”
“Okay, just be gentle with me, please.”
“I will be, here’s what we need to do. I’ll press against you and ask you to push, I want you to push like you’re going to the bathroom, it will relax your sphincters and let me in easier then I’ll wait for you to adjust to me before I move into you. You’ll feel an incredible fullness, even more than when you get your enemas, it will feel like you need to use the potty but you won’t, it will be me filling you up. Are you ready?”
I pushed her legs further back toward her breasts, “hold your legs up for me until I’m in,” I asked. She held herself behind her thighs as I moved up and guided the head of my penis against her.
“Push Mama,” I said as I leaned in forcing myself through her sphincter muscles.
Martha grimaced and grunted as I entered her; I waited for her. When a little smile showed on her face I pushed forward. She softly moaned as I slid into her. My Sexy Mama was all and more than I’d hoped, incredibly tight, hot, and smooth as I glided up into her most private passage. It was as though I was enwrapped in a velvet glove, her tight ring squeezing me; I was in, I rested.
“Oh I do feel so full and I have a little ache way up inside me. Chris, do you like it, am I good for you pretty Daddy,” Martha asked, her breath was a raspy pant almost like a Lamaze mother to be, “I am your dirty little girl now, aren’t I,” she panted.
“You are fantastic Mama, the best, God, it was worth the wait, I’ve never, ever felt anything so incredible,” I answered as I began caressing her breasts and pump her slowly and gently.
She thrust her breasts forward inviting my attention; I took her hands from her legs and directed her right hand down until it was on her sex.
She had never masturbated for me, no doubt she’d consider it dirty, too but she was now. I lifted her moistened fingers, took them in my mouth, sucked them and guided them back. One of my hands was still on her breasts; the other was directing hers on how to unhood her clit. When she touched herself she began to rub.
I was watching her, her concentration was divided, accepting me in her bowels, her breasts and her self-gratification; she finally looked up into my eyes.
Almost in embarrassment she gave me a little whimsical smile, “Daddy, you know I don’t usually talk like I’m about to but a long time ago I was reading one of those bodice busting romance novels and the heroine said she felt like a “freshly fucked fox in a forest fire,” her implication being that she’d never felt so hot in her entire existence. Almost a year ago I was a fifty-seven year old woman destined to be a virgin spinster, one instance of unrequited love the only romance I’d had in my life. Sex was a concept unknown to me and I thought anything outside the confines of the missionary position was dirty. I was a thief finding unrewarding solace as an uncontrolled gambler. And I see myself now, at this very instance; I promise, if you don’t want me to, I’ll never talk like this again but please look at me.
Now, right now, I’m laying with the most fantastic man in the world, I have my hand buried in my cunt, my tits are being fondled and I have so much cock up my bottom it feels like you’re in my tummy and I’ve never been happier; fuck me hard Daddy, make me feel it, God I want to be who you want, I want you to want me; because you make me feel like a freshly fucked fox in a forest fire.”
Her fingers brought her off just as I blasted; I don’t think I’ve ever cum harder as I pumped jet after jet of semen into her and, at the same time she climaxed, her anus clenching, grasping, squeezing me; it was beyond stupendous.
Afterwards we lay entwined in each other’s arms, gentle kisses, sweet words soft touches, I think for both of us it was the most romantic evening we’d ever spent.
We’re still together, of course there have been some ups and downs but neither of us would trade the life we have.
We married on Martha’s sixtieth birthday, so, I’d have no heirs but my sister’s husband was now my executive vice-president, when I retire the mantle will fall to him and I’m contemplating leaving at thirty-five so Martha and I can enjoy our life together.
By the way, the wedding; it was a private affair here in the city then we jetted to Monaco for a month of, what else, gambling.