The Faithful Secretary

Thanks for all your comments on the first chapter. It was meant to be the beginning of a series titled 'The Sins of Solomon' but I changed my mind at the last minute and wrote a one off story. However I've been encouraged to continue so here goes...

I couldn't get Priscilla out of my mind. Our moment of passion last night in the privacy of my office kept replaying in my mind like a DVD plate on loop, reliving memories of her lush, fragile, yet strong body rocking in unison to mine.

I could still hear her moans, could still taste her sweat and her spit and I could still smell her juices. I could still remember the look in her eyes when I told her she had finally gotten the job, the relief and gratitude that snapped her resolve and reduced her to tears.

This was a woman who was used to rejection, used to being treated like a whore and could only hold her head high whenever she was subjected to painful humiliation as she fought to keep her head and that of her child above the cruel waters of life.

As she had walked into my office for an interview she knew she had no hope of passing, she knew her only chance of scaling through was if the employer wanted to have sex with her. As she sat across the desk from me she knew I was that kind of employer, the kind that would take advantage of her because of her lack of education and skills.

Yes I did take advantage of her. I'm a man and we men love having sex with willing women. It doesn't make me a bad person; it's just how we were created. Sex was the price she paid for not having enough credentials and I was kind enough to give her the job despite knowing that doing so would put me at a disadvantage. I my not a good guy? It doesn't mean Priscilla is suddenly my sex slave. It just means she has a duty to perform.

I know that because I committed adultery (yes, I know it is adultery and I'm not going to justify it) you would think I'm a bad husband. I am not a bad husband. I love my wife dearly and always will. The problem with wives is that they never seem to understand how precarious their situation is. A man marries a woman hoping she won't change but of course she does. She turns from this insanely, hot, sweet dream girl you've been dating to this psycho-aggressive control freak who watches your every move. My personal advice to women? Don't worry about where your hubby's at. Just worry that he comes home. If he takes you as his place of solace then he'll be back. But if he regards you with the same affection as Hell on Earth then don't hold your breath.

My wife woke up this morning in a very bad mood. I was still horny from last night and I badly wanted to have sex. I was caressing her gently before she turned on me and berated me like I was a sexual deviant or something.

"For fuck's sake!" she hissed, "Can't you keep your hands to yourself?"

This barb really cut me deep and the deep reserves of my temper began to boil. I hate getting angry. When I get angry I become irrational and it becomes more than likely that I would say or do something I might regret later.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I retorted angrily, "I'm I married to a fucking corpse or what?"

I regretted the words as they tumbled out of my mouth. The shock on her face immediately made me feel guilty.

"Is that what you take me for? You wanted a horny slut for a wife and instead got a stiff?"

"No" I said with a sigh, "What I meant was..."

"I know exactly what you meant" she said, her eyes drilling holes into me, "I thought you would understand how I respond to sex but all along you've been harboring resentment. Why don't you pick up a hooker and bring her home?"

"Please don't talk like that."

"Fuck you, Solomon" she rasped bitterly as her eyes filled up with tears and I felt like the biggest a-hole in the entire universe, "Get the fuck out of my bed. Get lost."

So I got lost. It was my bed and my house but I still got lost. I later found myself in the office earlier than usual and still choking with rage. None of my staff had arrived and I paced my dark, empty office with a golf club in my hand. I felt like smashing something.

"CUNT!" I swore to the empty office and attacked an easy chair. The hollow thumps of the club echoed round the room. Jesus, I was so mad.

Two hours later my staff started to trickle in. My PA looked alarmed to see me but wisely decided not to pry when he saw the dark look on my face. Thirty minutes later Priscilla arrived. She was late and I wanted to vent my pent up fury on her. I could hear her deep, husky voice outside my door and a shiver ran up my spine.

She walked in. I ignored her for a few seconds before finally raising my head to answer her greeting. I opened my mouth to eviscerate her but the words suddenly eloped. I appraised her as she stood before me unaware that I had forgotten to close my trap.

Her hair was tied up into a neat bun, highlighting her perfect cheekbones and jaw line but that was not what was tripping me out. She was wearing a pale blue blouse with a short grey skirt and a matching jacket. This shouldn't sound extraordinary except for the fact that the cut of her clothes would have looked impractical on any normal lady. Her clothes looked painted on her perfect mannequin body. She looked like she belonged behind a big glass window at JC Penny. The skirt as usual was too short, exposing her smooth creamy thighs, the blouse was too tight and her perky breasts looked just about ready to punch holes through the soft, frail fabric. She was even wearing a cute pair of glasses in a vain attempt to look smarter than she was. All she managed to achieve was to look even more delectable than she normally was. Instantly all my anger evaporated into thin air.

She stood before me, waiting for my command, ready to do whatever I wanted her to do. I relished my power. This is the power that all men want, to be able to control beautiful women. I flicked my finger. She immediately began to strip her clothes, teasingly and tauntingly, throwing each item to the furthest corner of the room. She finally stood there in only her underwear and she bowed her head, not in shame but in grateful submission. I was the king and she was my faithful concubine.

I sat back and fed my eyes for almost a full minute, greedily drinking in every detail and every curve of that luscious body. This girl was an angel. She had come to save my soul from misery. I signaled her to come to me.

She walked round my desk and stood close to me. I pointed at my lap. She meekly sat on it. She watched blankly as I ran my fingers up and down her thighs. They felt like velvet. I pulled her closer and leaned forward to kiss her bra covered breast. I felt the nipple harden at my touch and I let my lips linger.

Her arm went around me and she ran her fingers through my hair. I snaked up a hand to hold the back of her head and I drew her down towards me. Our lips touched and I kissed her softly for a long time, our tongues wriggling over each other like snakes on heat.

My other hand on her thighs moved up till it stopped at the V of her legs. I briefly enjoyed the feel of the lace fabric of her panties and the enormous heat that soaked through them before I deftly pulled it aside and inserted a finger.

She was gloriously wet.

Priscilla squeezed her eyes shut and moaned deeply. I pushed in further and lazily explored her crevices.

Her hand was dragging on my hair. I pulled her in for another kiss and I took my time finger fucking her as we swapped spit. By now she was shaking uncontrollably. I pulled my finger out and she looked at me with a hurt, hungry expression. I smiled and told her to get up. She obeyed and I told her to bend over the table. She leaned over and grabbed the edges with her hands. I stood up and placed on hand on her waist, stopping to marvel at the perfect shape of her bum. Her panties were completely soaked so it all but shrank into her crack. I touched her wet pussy and she gasped and wiggled her ass in anticipation.

I pulled down my zipper and yanked out my cock. I was already at full mast. I rubbed the head on the smooth skin of her buttocks and she grunted appreciatively. I used a finger to pull aside the shriveled strand of her panties and slowly let myself in. My cock went in gradually, filling her up and I heard a deep guttural groan as she gripped the table harder, her knuckles going white. I placed both hands on her waist and rocked my hips against her. She whimpered and began to wiggle her hips in return.

We fucked for a long time. For some reason it was taking ages for me to come and unlike my wife Priscilla could take it. She moaned a lot but it wasn't this loud slutty kind of noise that some women made. Her moans were muffled and involuntary, like she was trying to be quiet but couldn't help it. Now that really turned me on.

The rubber band holding her hair in place had flown the coop and her long hair was in disarray. I thought women looked very sexy when they were being fucked from behind and their hair was flying about. Priscilla certainly looked very sexy.

Eventually she gave a short scream and trembled from head to toe. Seconds later I grunted and came forcibly. I reached forward to kiss her back. My hands played with her breasts. The phone started to ring.

I let it ring for a while before I picked it up.

"Yes?"

"Sir?" It was my PA and he sounded worried.

"Your wife's just entered the building! She's heading for your office..."

FUCK.