I Shouldnt Have Helped Her At All

Note: Thanks to my muse; she knows who she is. She inspired all of, and even contributed part of, this story.

I shouldn't have helped her at all. I can see that now. Her problems were none of my business, and I could easily have said "no." Now I was on the floor of her kitchen at her feet, whimpering, hoping that I wouldn't get beaten any more. Then, she pissed on me.

I work in the Marketing Department of a medium-sized company in New Jersey. I'm 50 years old, married, and have probably risen as high in the company as I ever will. When Chloe Lee came to see me, I was a little puzzled. She is a 24-year old Chinese woman who works downstairs in the Product Development Department. We'd chatted a few times in the cafeteria on breaks, but otherwise had no professional contact at all. I was kind of taken aback when she sought my help with writing a report for her boss, Terry Johnson.

I'm what they call a "pearl diver" - a white guy with an unthinking lust for Asian females. It is sometimes said with a smile, but most Asian women find guys like me terribly creepy, and are not flattered by our attentions. I'd spent eight happy years overseas in the Army before getting out and coming to work here at the company. I'd had sex -- and fallen in and out of love -- with women in Japan and Korea, and I never really got the Asian female thing out of my system.

So, when cute little Chloe Lee chatted with me on breaks, and then asked for some assistance, I stupidly fell all over myself trying to please her. I let some of my own marketing work slide, to make time for hers, and missed more than one or two customer meetings, just so I could sit with her in her office reviewing her project.

Mainly because I had silly delusions I might be able to get into her pants, I even had meetings with her at her apartment on weekends -- taking time away from my own wife and kids to drool over her always low-cut necklines at her dining room table. Chloe was small for a grown woman: about five feet, thin as a rail, and had the cutest little tiny tits, that barely stretched her 32A bra.

Yes, I know, checking her laundry basket every time I broke for a pee was totally inappropriate. So was stealing pairs of her panties when I could. If my wife had found them, I would have been in deep kimchi. I'd wait at home 'til late at night, after my wife fell asleep, and then I'd masturbate while smelling Chloe's underwear. The next weekend I'd swap the pair that no longer smelled of her crotch for a new pair from her laundry basket!

Anyway, there was in fact no way in hell I was ever going to score with Chloe. She was gorgeous, and I was graying and pot-bellied. She had a good-looking boyfriend; and he had a gun. Chloe loved talking about her macho boyfriend and his guns. Seems he had long ones and short ones and ones I'd never heard of - even though I was the one who'd actually been in the Army.

The strain of lusting for this little sex-pot and making no advances at all was fraying my nerves. Then Chloe screwed up the whole project we'd been working on by falsifying some data and bootlegging a poorly-edited draft of her project to her boss. He got mad, found out I had been involved in his department's most-confidential project, and called my boss. Who threatened to fire me.

I went to Chloe's apartment Sunday morning and read her the damned Riot Act. She had no further use for me at this point, so she laughed in my face and called me a dirty old man who only wanted her pussy. I lost my temper and called her a slut, which got me a really hard slap to my face. I said that I ought to take her over my knee and give her a good spanking. I braced for another slap, but instead she looked me right in the eye, grinned wickedly, and took off her shorts and panties. While I gaped at her delightful pussy with its slight wisps of pubic hair, she pushed me back into a kitchen chair, draped herself over my lap, and told me to go ahead and spank her!

You're right – it was a trick. I gave her two or three half-hearted swats, getting my bearings and trying to figure out how this terrible situation had turned into a porn fantasy. Then she jumped up, kicked my chest, and tumbled me backwards onto the floor. Chloe Lee, I learned later, was a very accomplished martial artist. The rare kind – the kind who don't walk around bragging about it. She kicked me again three or four times while I rolled around on the floor, then pulled me to my feet and punched my lights out. I was back on the floor, on my back, when she jumped astride my chest and started slapping my face from side to side. When I went limp, she raised herself forward on her knees, put that gorgeous Asian pussy I'd been dreaming about right over my bleeding face, and let lose a stream of piss all over my head.

"You're pathetic," she screamed at me. This is the only way you'll EVER get close to my pussy!"

She reached around behind herself, grabbed my crotch, and I came in my pants.

* * *

When I went into work Monday, she came to see me, accompanied by her boss. Terry Johnson gave both of us hell, and informed me that he and Lamar Washington, my boss, had made a decision. Given the urgency of the situation and the nature of Chloe's fake data screw up, I was seconded to work for Terry finalizing the report. Chloe would temporarily report directly to me until Humpty-Dumpty had been put back together again. Given that I'd already (and improperly) worked on it, there wouldn't be a confidentiality problem. Terry told me sternly that both our jobs were on the line here: one more fuckup by me, and I would be fired. Terry said that as for Chloe, if she didn't perform, she was out the door – and it was my call.

As soon as Terry walked out the door, Chloe burst into tears and begged me to help her. I asked why I should bother. She walked up to my chair and fumbled at her skirt, letting it fall to the floor, exposing little black cotton panties. When I reached for them, she told me "No don't touch," very sharply.

I sat back as she slowly peeled her panties down and then bent down to pick them up. I nearly had a heart attack when I looked at her pussy. She'd shaved since yesterday; gone were those beautiful wispy little pubic hairs that made her look 15 years old down there. Now she was bald as a baby. She looked at me and smiled cruelly, then knelt before me and undid my belt. She jerked my trousers open and roughly pulled them down, exposing my half-erect cock.

"You'll get closer to my pussy if we work together again," she breathed. "Will you help me?"

"God yes," I panted, my hands on her tight little butt as she moved to straddle my legs.

"That's good." Terry's voice shocked me. He wasn't just in my office doorway; he was in my office, right behind Chloe.

"Fuck," Chloe squeaked, her face pale with shock. Neither of us had heard him return.

Then, "what," as Terry's hands gripped her hips, followed by a long "uuuuughhhhhhhhhh" as Terry's hard cock drove into her pussy.

Chloe's firm little tits jiggled in front of my face as Terry started to fuck her from behind, her hands gripping my shoulders. Her face looked wide-eyed and confused, as if she didn't know what was happening. Her knees started to collapse. Terry laughed and fucked her even harder. His cock looked enormous, compared to mine, and glistened with Cloe's juices under the bright office lights.

Chloe sobbed, her head falling to rest on my shoulder as her supervisor power-hosed her tight little cunt. I could hear her breathing in my ear, feel her body shuddering under the impact of Terry's cock plunging into her hairless pussy. Still straddling me, her thighs brushed my smaller cock back and forth as Terry fucked her. Her little black cotton panties fell from one of her hands to drape themselves on my cock.

Terry lifted her off me as she started to collapse, and placed her face down over my desk. Now he was fucking her so hard that the old wooden desk moved. Chloe was going to be bruised after Terry finished with her. I found myself almost hypnotized by the in and out motion of Terry's 8- or 9-inch penis, and the here-we-are, now-we're gone appearance of her bald little Asian cunt lips.

I watched Terry's cock, at least 3 inches longer than mine, sliding into her. It glistened wetly, huge in comparison to Chloe's diminutive Asian body. She moaned and squeaked and cried out and clutched at the desk, her little breasts jiggling as Terry fucked her.

Terry finally came in her, her mouth opened wide, drool all over the side of her face. She shuddered and groaned as he filled her with his cum. Then, abruptly, he was done with her, walking out of my office, zipping his trousers up, not even looking back. "Help this whore get the project done, Don!" floated over his shoulder.

Chloe lay bent forward over my desk where Terry had finished with her. She was naked from the waist down. Her white work blouse was open, her pink pussy looked swollen and distended, and she was oozing Terry's cum all over the critical marketing project I was supposed to have delivered to my boss in an hour's time.

My 5-inch cock was as hard as it had ever been. I walked over to her and slapped her butt, hard, watching the red imprint on her little cheek. Then the other cheek. Slap... slap ... slap.....

She sobbed. "I'm sorry Don, I'm sorry..... I know you want my pussy."

She struggled to her feet -- and then smiled up at me as she slipped an ankle behind mine and flipped me onto my back on the floor. Smiling cruelly down at me, she knelt astride my head, her cunt right over my face, Terry's cum trickling down her thighs.

"Lick my pussy clean, Don," she said, lowering herself onto my mouth as she reached down to stroke my cock, her discarded panties in her hand. "You know you want this. My pussy, some dude's cum; you've died and gone to Heaven, haven't you, you worthless sissy?"

She had an orgasm as my tongue lapped at her, my mouth sucking at those delicate pussy lips, nibbling on her tiny little clit. So did I, coming into her panties as she wrapped them around my cock and stroked me.

I spent the rest of Monday avoiding Chloe and Terry. I couldn't stop thinking about the fact that despite all the failures of my pathetic attempts to seduce Chloe Lee, I had ended up with my face in her crotch two days in a row. Sunday she beat me to the floor of her apartment and released her urine on my face and in my mouth as I orgasmed helplessly into my pants. Now, less than 24 hours later, I'd licked another man's jizz from her labia on the floor of my own office, while she beat me off into her panties.

I had two serious problems. First, work. My marketing projects were significantly behind schedule, and now I was supposed to give all my attention to the Production Department report for Terry Johnson. I would need to talk to my boss, Lamar Washington, to set some priorities for the next few weeks. Mr. Washington had never liked me, and always made it clear to the entire department that he couldn't wait for "Old Donald" to retire so a younger, more energetic worker could take over my responsibilities. While some of my colleagues called him by his first name in the office, he had taken me aside twice to let me know that he expected me to address him as "Mr. Washington" in the office. My current situation was likely to end up giving him an opportunity to show me the door. Several of my young staff were already jockeying for position to replace me, and were undercutting my work whenever they could get away with it. At least two of them had seen Terry screwing Chloe in my office, but neither said a word to me about what had happened, or my own shameless behavior after Terry left.

My second problem was at home. My wife knew I was lying about something yesterday, when I returned from Chloe's apartment wearing a different shirt that the one I'd worn out of the house in the morning. I'd had to sneak the piss-soaked blue shirt into the laundry as soon as I'd been able. Given more time, I might have come up with a credible reply, but my nonsensical stammering about spilling my coffee made my wife suspicious.

As I entered Mr. Washington's office, I heard him say "Thank you for calling, Malik. I'll figure something out." The only Malik I know in our company worked for me – and was one of the possible witnesses to Chloe's wild sex show this morning.

I asked Mr. Washington to help me set priorities for the next few weeks, given his order that I be seconded to Production to work on their report project. He gave me a cold, hard stare and then told me basically that I was in a jam of my own making, and he expected me to work harder to satisfy both departments. He rose from his desk, took me by the arm, and walked me towards his door. Confirming my suspicions about Malik, he moved his grip from my elbow to my ass, and said, "I hear that you've already begun satisfying the Production Department. Don't ever come into my office again with another man's sperm on your face." Then he slowly wiped his finger across my mouth and carefully pushed the finger between my lips.

There was no cum on my face – I'd spent a long time cleaning up after Chloe rubbed my face with her cummy snatch two hours earlier. Mr. Washington just wanted me to know that he knew what had happened.

***

When Chloe got home Monday night, her boyfriend was waiting at the door. He had barely slept the night before, after the shock of finding his beloved oriental flower pissing all over that creep-o guy from her office. He'd picked the fucker up off of the floor and thrown his ass out into the hallway, but Chloe had refused to tell him exactly why she'd debased the guy so cruelly.

"It wasn't sex, Tommy. I don't even like the old fart. He insulted me, and I put a beating on him, and I decided to humiliate him for perving on me all the time. But it wasn't sex. You're the only man I love."

Tommy Considine allowed himself to be persuaded when Chloe dropped to her knees, opened his zipper, and pulled his stiffening cock from his boxers. Christ, she loved Tommy's dick, Chloe thought. It was thick, and long, and hard as granite. Tommy could fuck all night and Chloe tested this regularly, riding him cowgirl for hours at a time. Because as strong and tough as 24-year-old Tommy was, Chloe almost always rode cowgirl. In bed, despite her tiny size, Cloe was always in charge.

As Chloe turned around and backed her pussy up onto Tommy's soaking-wet cock, she told him "Look, Tommy, I don't like it any more than you do, but I have to keep working with this guy for a few more weeks if I hope to get that promotion."

"I don't like it, Chloe," Tommy moaned, as she squeezed her Kegels on his foot-long.

"I don't either, Tommy, but I have no choice. And he'll be back here again on weekends, too, just like before, helping with the assignment."

"I'm not leaving you alone with that pervert, Chloe. I'm not gonna do it."

"No sweat, dear, you stick around and keep an eye on him. All I want from him is work. Don't let Don out of your sight, if you don't want to."

So it was no surprise, except to me, the following weekend, that Tommy caught me in the act of hamper-diving for crusty panties....

* * *

Tuesday morning, Terry Johnson called me in the Marketing office and ordered me to report full-time to my new cubicle in Production. When I arrived, I saw that it was so small that it would have been appropriate only for a very junior ranking staff member. I went to his corner office to ask for more space, but he refused to discuss it.

Instead, he slammed the door and said, "Look here, Elliott. I had a call this morning from Lamar. He told me about the sick shit you did after I left your office yesterday. Let's get something straight right now, and I don't mean your little dick. You work for me. I'll tell you when, where, and how you work. Chloe Lee reports to you, but if I hear you even glanced sideways at her sweet yellow pussy I'll have your ass, you hear me? That was the best fuck I've had in years, and I plan to stuff my cock in her tight sideways pussy a lot more from now on."

"Sir...." I stammered. "I don't know what Mr. Wash...."

"Shut the fuck up, Elliott."

I did.

"Here's the deal, Donald. I'll let Chloe feed you Mongolian creampie once in a while, but only if you keep this project of mine from blowing up. You do good work for me, and I'll let her drain her snatch on your face all the time. But if things keep moving sideways, you'll be getting my jizz straight from me, you understand? Up your worthless baggy ass. So if you're in love with Miss Lee's pussy, you'd better work your ass off -- or else I'll hump it off."

I left his office with my head down and returned to my cubicle. As I sat down on my new chair, my asshole gave me a little tingle as I imagined Terry Johnson's long, thick cock forcing its way in through the exit between my butt cheeks. Only a few times in my life had I ever had sex with another guy, and in each instance, it had been only a blowjob. I'd never had any form of anal sex with anyone, male or female. I shivered again as I wondered what it would be like to have a strong, dominant man bend me over and fill my ass with cock.

Chloe came in a few minutes later, and slowed at my cubicle on the way to her own. She reached out her hand and put something into mine. It felt like a pair of panties, but I was scared to look, and quickly thrust the hand into my jacket pocket. She leaned forward as if to kiss me on the cheek but held me a few inches away and whispered in my ear, "Here's a clean pair for you to jack off into, Donald. Give them back to me before you go home tonight, and they'd better be crusty with at least three loads of your worthless jizz...."

Late that afternoon I did, and they were.

* * *

Wednesday morning Terry Johnson called Chloe and me to the third floor conference room. Her latest draft was in front of him, all marked up with blue and red inked corrections. He was clearly pissed that she'd done such sloppy work, again. Some companies don't fuss about the quality and correctness of internal documents, but ours did. Writing well was a key part of our position descriptions. No one at our level was expected to write poorly. People with Chloe's level of writing skill would not normally even be hired in the first place. My guess is that Chloe had entered through one of our intermittent "diversity hiring initiatives."

Terry started berating Chloe for her "garbage" and then unloaded on me for not correcting her work before it got to his desk. While he was ranting, Chloe stood up, reached under her skirt, and pulled off her own panties. As she intended, Terry suddenly fell silent. She handed the underwear to me, turned to present her ass towards Terry, and bent over the conference table. She reached back to flip the back of her skirt over her ass, baring her pussy.

"I deserve a spanking," she whimpered. Then she wiggled her ass from side to side until Terry responded.

I realized only then that Chloe had done this on purpose, slipping her intentionally poor report to Terry with the intention of giving him another excuse to pound his cock into her.

He jumped up out of his chair as if his pants were on fire, clutching franticly at the front of his trousers and yanking down his zipper. He pulled off his belt and took three or four swings at Chloe's gorgeous little ass – her bony butt had barely any meat on it at all. His cock leapt up, erecting quickly, and he drew the belt around Chloe's neck as he fell on top of her and jabbed himself into her pussy.

The conference room had no windows, of course, and only one door. I sidled over to the door to make sure it was locked.

Terry could have taken it slow -- there was no rush. He'd surely reserved the conference room for a full hour. But he'd known he would fuck Chloe even before we had arrived at the room. If all he had wanted to do was to discuss the project, he'd have called us to his office downstairs. He'd been picturing himself fucking Chloe for at least an hour, and he was all wound up.