Chapter 1
"I would do anything to save my son's job," said the attractive brunette, as she gazed across the desk at Cyrus J. Browder, president of Browder Electronics.
"Anything, Mrs. Peterson?"
"Yes. Anything."
The middle-aged man stood and walked around his desk to stand in front of her chair. "You realize that you've given me carte blanche."
"I meant exactly what I said, Mr. Browder." She gazed up at him earnestly.
Danny's mother was a woman who believed in Danny. After all, Danny had been laid off from every job he'd ever had. And time and again, she had to find him another job.
Danny interviewed poorly. He stammered, he blushed, he shuffled his feet, and twice he farted when he was asked where he'd want to be five years from now.
Lucille was an overprotective mother. She taught Danny to come to her when he had to fight, and if he needed a job, she'd get him one. His resume contained a heading and a few cartoons. Usually of people fucking. She thought it amusing and encouraged Danny to display his artistic talents. But there were no jobs for artists, only tech types.
"Then I presume you are prepared to let me fuck you."
Lucille Peterson didn't bat an eye. "Yes."
"And before that, you will do something else?"
"Anything at all."
He smiled tightly. "I believe you know what I would like."
"One question, Mr. Browder -- does my son keep his job?"
"If you perform well..."
That was all she wanted to hear. She reached out, found the zipper tab at the top of his trousers fly, and drew it down. She reached in through his fly, into his nylon shorts, and brought out his long, heavy prick. She reached in again, cupped his pendulous balls, and lifted them out as well.
He stood without moving. He said nothing as he gazed down at her sardonically. She bent forward and tilted her head to the side. Her moist, pink lips started at the base and moved along the length of his flaccid sex.
It began to stiffen.
By the time her kissing had reached the hooded head of his prick, it was standing up and out, but it hadn't yet locked into rock hardness. She nibbled the ridge of his cockhead through the foreskin, then gently took hold of the prick from underneath and placed her lips at its tip. Her lips pushed back his foreskin, and the slick, slightly moist head of his pecker slid into her mouth.
The prick assumed full rigidity, its great head swelling to fill Lucille 's mouth. She sucked at it, as she had learned to suck her husband's cock. Benny could not keep up with her insatiable demand for servicing her pussy, and so he avoided her.
She gave a little jerking motion of her chin, causing the underside of Browder's cockhead to slide against the trough of her tongue. Her lips delectably stimulated his corona. Her hand coddled and caressed his hairy balls.
He didn't place his hands on her head. He kept them at his sides and just watched her.
There was a quick knock at the door and it opened. Browder's mini-skirted secretary stood there, holding the morning mail. She gazed in amazement at what was happening in front of her boss's desk.
It took several seconds for Lucille to realize a third person had entered the room. She straightened up, letting go of Browder's cock and balls. She glanced quickly at the blonde secretary, colored, and averted her eyes.
"Come in, June," Browder said, "and close the door."
On shaky legs, she did as commanded.
"Mr. Browder!" Lucille managed to utter in protest
"You said 'anything', Mrs. Peterson," he reminded her. "June, I want you to watch this..."
The secretary knew better than to offer an objection. Moreover, she was fascinated. She sat down, holding the mail on her lap.
"Now, Mrs. Peterson, please continue," Browder directed. His cock still stuck out long and hard, its huge, red head gleaming.
Lucille was mortified; her face flamed, but she bent again to Browder's prick. She opened her mouth wide and slid it down over the massive cockhead. She resumed sucking and licking. Her hand once more cradled his balls and fondled them.
He looked at June, whose face had turned pink. "Naturally, my dear, you're not to tell anyone what you're now seeing."
"Yes, Mr. Browder... of course... I wouldn't," she stammered.
"Suck it well, Mrs. Peterson," he said, looking down at her. "That's the way. You're a highly accomplished fellatrix."
Gradually his balls tensed and, his prick became even harder. When the throbs of pleasure had reached a level of intensity that portended the next phase of the game, he took hold of the woman's head and gently moved her away.
The great weapon swayed as she relinquished it. It gave a spastic jerk. Saliva extended from the head of it, in a gleaming string, to her retreating mouth.
"Now, Mrs. Peterson, please sit on the edge of my desk," he directed.
She avoided looking at the secretary as she got up from the chair, her face still flaming, and boosted herself backward onto the desk. Browder turned to face her. He gripped her skirt and slip and pushed them up her legs, past the tops of the stockings, all the way to her hips. She wiggled to enable the skirt and slip to slide out from under her butt. He raised them to her waist.
She wore snowy, white nylon panties. He took hold of them at both sides and pulled them down. Again she wiggled to let them slide out from under her ass. He drew them down her legs, took them off her feet, and tossed them aside, moving her legs apart
Her cunt was a moist, pink gash in a forest of curling, dark hairs. Her clit was up, and the lips of her pussy were parted enough to let him see the mouth of her channel.
He quickly unbelted his trousers and lowered them, together with his shorts.
June watched in shocked fascination. Her chair was so positioned that she had a perfect view of what was about to take place.
Browder took his erect prick in his hand and moved forward, between Lucille 's legs. "Now tell me, my dear, what you want me to do," he instructed her.
She closed her eyes. Her lips trembled.
