Darla's Need

I had to leave. This was going nowhere and I couldn't breathe. Watching him just lying there on the couch, playing video games and not being interested in almost anything else. He played with his Lara Croft look-a-likes 100 times more than me.

When I met Jesse in high school, I thought his dimples and large trust fund could carry our relationship forever, but I learned that I needed more. Not more money, we had everything someone might want, but more man. I needed to be taken care of emotionally as well as treasured, enjoyed, and wanted. Having been forced to sign a pre-nuptial agreement, I knew that if I left then I would leave with nothing but my clothes, jewelry and a small "incidental" checking account which had a couple thousand in it at best. However, I didn't care because I needed to find someone that needed me, wanted me but also showed confidence, dominance and power.

It sounded crazy even to myself, but I was tired of being everything in this marriage: wife, husband, activities director, household manager, organizer etc. while he played his video games, went to the gym and went out partying with his buddies. I knew he cheated on me during these "guys' nights out" because his friends could not keep their mouths shut. They would get together, drink too much and joke about their latest conquests, including Jesse. His family made sure that infidelity didn't hurt him in anyway in case of a divorce. At first, I was hurt because I worked very hard at keeping my body in great shape to interest him and managed everything in the household to make his home comfortable, but yet he showed me very little interest. It was as if I was an old prize previously won and now tossed off to the side.

After a decade plus of being neglected, I didn't care anymore. I had tried to leave before but my problem was that at 32 years old, I had no verifiable skills. While I had managed a household staff of eight, organized dozens of charitable grand events and learned how to create a budget, balance books and deal with the IRS for the same aforementioned staff; I couldn't really use any of that on a resume. Although I could sell some clothes and jewelry to make ends meet for awhile, I needed a stable job. I definitely didn't want to go "trolling" for another wealthy man to marry. I just wanted out. I had no family to rely on and my only "friends" were the wives of his friends. Despite my odds at survival, I still gathered my courage and one early morning as Jesse was still nursing a hangover, and I went to an attorney to file for divorce.

I had never met this attorney before but rather picked him out of a list from Google. I didn't want anyone remotely associated with Jesse's family. I brought a notorized copy of my pre-nuptial agreement and drove my "new to me," but very used two door hatchback car to the address listed. I had made the appointment about three months ago because I needed time to scrape together enough cash to purchase my clunker and put a rent deposit down on an apartment which all came from squeezing the household budget until it squeaked without alerting anyone.

Nervously, I walked up the stairs to the small office building and entered the glass doors, about 50 minutes before my appointment time. Just coming out, as I was entering, was an agile grandmother type with a box in her arms. I held open the doors for her as she said, "You must be his 2 o'clock? Please wait in the outer office and fill out those forms for a formal application. I will be right back, this is my last box." She had me confused with someone coming for a job interview versus my appointment for the filing of my divorce papers. Maybe this was a sign from the heavens, that is if I was even remotely qualified for whatever this job entailed.

I looked down at the papers on the clipboard and sighed. Most of the work experience section would remain blank, but I had recently talked with one of the hotels that had hosted a charity event for me and the manager agreed to be a reference. I filled in as much as I could and crossed my fingers. I figured I would explain my need for the divorce paperwork and a job all at once. Absentmindedly, I fiddled with my wedding rings while considering what I might say to boost my lacking application. I hadn't noticed a man standing at the doorway until he cleared his throat, nearly startling me out of my chair.

He was about 5'11 and of average build in his late 50's or early 60's with a full head of salt and pepper hair. His suit was finely cut and he had an amazing set of deep brown eyes and a sharp jawline that just screamed male. "Mrs. Swanson?" he clearly said.

"Sorry, no. I'm Darla Winchester. I'm here for a 3 o'clock appointment in order to file for divorce. Your, uh secretary, thought I was here for a job interview which I happen to also need, so I thought I'd fill out the application. Is that alright?"

He glanced at his watch and made a slight scowl. "Well, I have to say that I do appreciate that you are not only punctual but early even. The other applicant seems to either be late or decided not to keep her appointment at all. Either way, I am a bit irritated and would love to calm myself with a pleasurable interview with you."

I immediately smiled a huge grin and then surprisingly felt a warm moisture between my legs. 'What the hell. Where did that come from,' I thought. He leaned over and offered his hand for a shake, stating his name was Mr. Charles Powell. Grabbing his hand while I arose, I felt my knees become slightly weak and buckle. Instantaneously, he wrapped his arms around my waist and prevented me from falling. I couldn't understand why I felt so weak. I thought, was I just nervous or was it him? Mr. Powell had such a presence of confidence and power, sensual power. It didn't seem to matter to my inner, now racing, libido that he was 15 to 20 years my senior and potentially my new boss.

He guided me to a chair in his office and provided me with a cool glass of water. My head was spinning and I easily consumed the water to help focus me and hopefully cool me. 'Get control of yourself Darla,' I thought. 'You need this job AND this divorce.' While I took a deep breath, I noticed him quietly talking with his parting secretary, as she had just returned to the outer office. He was gentle with her, almost intimate. She reached for him with a shaky hug and they held each other for a long time. It was quite a tender moment and spoke volumes of his inner being.

He returned and sat behind his desk, gathering a variety of papers and shuffling around. Once he organized himself to his satisfaction, Mr. Powell made eye contact with me and held it for what seemed like an eternity to me but it was probably only 10 to 20 seconds. When he finally spoke, it was a smooth deeply melodious sound that soothed my nerves. "I want to review your divorce papers first and then we will proceed with the interview. I noted the pre-nuptial agreement which is definitely in your husband's favor and leaves you with nearly nothing. Are you sure you want to go forth with this divorce?"

Telling him my situation, my desires and my plan for the future was cathartic. It boosted my self assurance that I could do this and I could survive without my husband . I told him, "I unfortunately don't have any family to help me but I have placed a deposit on a small apartment and have some funds to buy some inexpensive furniture." He nodded, seemingly considering something with a furrowed brow and then began typing on his keyboard. After several minutes, he printed out some forms and instructed me to sign in several locations.

"These will be delivered by courier to your husband within the next 24 hours. It's straight forward, follows the pre-nup exactly and since there are no children involved it should be wrapped up within a few weeks to a month. However, if your husband chooses to contest it, then it could be messy and potentially quite costly to you," he said.

I started to panic. I hadn't even considered this potential problem in my plans. A basic divorce was expensive enough but if he really wanted to screw me over then... I started to wilt right there in my chair. All the planning, preparation and stress was too much. I could completely see my husband fighting this just for the sake of it. Almost like a battle within one of his stupid games! The tears started to flow. I couldn't control them.

I was wiping feverishly at my eyes, not wanting my mascara to run so that I'd look like a racoon when I suddenly noticed he had pulled up a chair beside me and was handing me a box of tissues. I graciously accepted the tissues and said, "I usually don't fall apart Mr. Powell but it's been so stressful and I thought I had covered all my bases."

He gently placed his hand on my forearm and told me with a soft smile, "That's why you came to me. To cover your exposed bases." Our eyes locked for a moment and I tingled all over. I sat up straighter, feeling reassured albeit ironically a bit off center and smiled my best, confident grin.

"Let's move forward and come what may." Mr. Powell smiled in return and moved back behind his desk. He typed in a few more notes and then leaned back to again gaze at me.

"Okay, the divorce process is done for now. I would like to proceed with the interview if you are still up for it Ms. Winchester? Or should I call you by your maiden name?" I hadn't even considered changing my name back.

I pondered it for a moment and then realized that it felt good to retain the Winchester name as a sort of a "screw you" parting gift because they legally couldn't force me to change it. Mr. Powell smiled as I told him my thoughts and said, "I like your feisty side."

The interview initially seemed fairly standard with reviewing my minimal qualifications, discussing my charity work and organizational skills but then he paused for a brief moment and took in a deep breath. Once he started talking again, I saw a change in his demeanor. "I have some unusual needs in a new secretary that I need to clearly state before proceeding. I need someone to be on my payroll 24/7 and to be willing to complete non-traditional job duties."

Shifting my hips, squeezing my legs together and then re-crossing my legs was an immediate, reflexive response. I'm not sure I truly realized I had done it until I saw Mr. Powell raise his eyebrows and scan his visual gaze up and down my body slowly, drinking me in with his eyes. He was seducing me with barely a suggestion of something sexual and I wanted it. At that moment, I knew I would perform in any way he wanted me to. I thought about my response carefully. Wanting him to know that I wanted to be controlled. I wanted to be his submissive employee. With a slightly shaky voice but looking directly into his eyes, I said "I am open to any direction that you need this job to take me. I am yours to direct as needed."

"Wonderful, I am very pleased," he responded but then added, "But you haven't even discussed benefits or a salary?"

While this was true, I really didn't care. I needed money to buy the basics but I realized what I really wanted was him. I don't know why I was so suddenly consumed with him but I needed to get my thoughts straight and out of my crotch! Realizing that he was waiting for me to respond, I began to say anything, any amount but no words came forth. He grinned, or rather a smirk and then produced a slight chuckle.

"How about this arrangement...I will pay you the same salary and health benefits as my retiring secretary, give you a clothing allowance of $500 per month and also pay half of your rent. While you don't even come close to matching her professional skills as a secretary, she also didn't provide me with the extras I will be asking of you. How does that sound?"

My mouth dropped a bit. This was more than I could have dreamed for without even truly knowing her salary. But given her age and probable years of experience, I figured it was a healthy, comfortable living plus the clothing allowance and half of my rent! Then it hit me, what really would these extras entail? Could I truly be comfortable with them? Tingling in my labia answered my own question for me.

"Yes. I mean yes, sir. That would be agreeable, but...um, what other, um...activities are involved?" I knew I sounded like a scared school girl but I couldn't keep my voice from quivering or stammering. Trying to correct the situation, I sat up straighter, re-crossed my legs but at the ankles thus hoping to look the mature, composed part.

Mr. Powell immediately answered without a seconds hesitation. "You will be asked to accompany me to numerous social events, run various errands for me and pleasure me sexually when requested." Just like that. He said it. He knew exactly what he wanted.

The tingle started again but this time at the top of my head and shot down through me like a lightening bolt. I couldn't respond. My mouth could not form any sound yet again. "Is that still acceptable?" I heard him say but I was in a fog, still not being able to speak so I nodded my head while focusing my gaze on the floor. 'I look like an idiot,' I chastised myself in my head.

I hadn't heard him move. Mr. Powell was suddenly next to me with his hand placed gently on my shoulder saying, "I need you to say it. Look at me and tell me that you understand and accept these job duties. Otherwise, we can keep our relationship as attorney/client and hope your husband doesn't contest the divorce."

"I agree." Two simple words that changed my life.

His hand softly caressed my cheek while holding my gaze with those deep chocolate brown eyes. He then took his finger and traced my lips, slightly smearing my perfectly pink fullness. "Can you start now?"

Not trusting my mouth yet again, I nodded my consent. My lips were still slightly parted and that's when he slowly entered my mouth with his index and middle fingers. I suckled them with my tongue and lips while engulfing his fingers up to his second knuckle. His other hand caressed the exposed curve of my shoulder flowing into my neck. Soft movements glided over my skin as my tongue explored his fingers. I hadn't even realized that he had gradually moved his hand until it was completely wrapped around my neck and he was plunging his fingers deeper into my mouth. It surprisingly wasn't scary to have a stranger have his hand firmly around my throat. But rather it was reassuring and comforting, like a sensation I had never felt before.

I hungered for him, wanting anything he was willing to give me. His fingers left my mouth, leaving it hollow, but then cradling my face with both his hands and slowly he leaned in for a deep sensual kiss. Our tongues touched and played with one another, alternating between soft caresses and hard urgency. As we kissed, he guided me to a standing position then walked me over to a large wing backed chair. Gently but with firm conviction, he pushed me into the chair while separating my knees. We surprisingly didn't break our kiss during this transition but rather he knelt before me as if going to propose. Then using both his hands, he grabbed each hip and pulled me to the very edge of the chair. This fluid movement caused my skirt to crinkle up to the top of my thighs, barely covering my thong. Mr. Powell controlled me like a familiar toy or doll with no resistance from me or uncertainty on his part.

His hands were free to roam as we continued our kiss. Before even realizing it, my blouse was opened to expose my heaving cleavage engulfed by my soft pink lace. He uttered his approval with a deep bass sound in his throat while breaking our kiss to move down my neck to my awaiting bosom. He nibbled, licked and kissed every inch of exposed skin as again his one hand moved to surround my neck again. This was the point of no return for me. I was completely enthralled with this man and willing to do whatever he asked. I heard his zipper click on each tooth as he readied himself for me. Each tinny pop sent an excited shiver down my spine.

As he unbuckled his belt, he rose before me which centered his groin right in front of my face. The chair height was a perfect position to reduce strain and for me to take him directly in my mouth. 'How thoughtful,' I thought to myself. Now I wanted to taste him even more. To please him with my mouth until he was ready to explode. His cock was released and as I admired it's sensual beauty, his one hand ran through my hair and grabbed a cluster while his other hand surrounded my face which forced my mouth open. I certainly didn't need forcing because I was wanting and willing to suck forever but this forceful grab only excited me further.

He thrusted his hips closer so that his above average length was just protruding into my mouth. Eagerly I closed my lips around the crown and felt it's satin finish. I began to lick and suck just the head while grasping the shaft with one of my free hands. He pulled my hair tighter in order to control my head movement and force me to take more of him in. I glanced up at him to see his reaction as I fully took his manhood to the back of my throat. I'm not sure what I expected, but it wasn't what my eyes took in. He wasn't moaning with head extended or with some similar ecstasy pose but rather he was looking straight into me. His eyes were like a flashlight that was searching deep inside.

The visual connection must have excited him because I felt his cock surge in my mouth causing it fill in more of the back of my mouth. I gagged slightly which caused my stomach to lurch and me to remove most of his length so I could calm myself. Then he did something I've never experienced before through all my years of marriage or even before then. He bent down, forcing his extraction from my mouth, cupped my face and sweetly kissed me. It was so soft and gentle that it utterly surprised me. But the final shocking moment was when he then said, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to cause you discomfort." I nearly cried. Literally, I was holding back tears and trying not to sob. No one had ever been truly concerned about my comfort during oral sex. This made me want to pleasure him all the more. Maybe this was his end game but I thought, or rather hoped, not. And pleasure him I did for at least another 15 minutes.

I had forgotten all about my pending divorce, my job and finance worries by this point and all I wanted was to enjoy the moment. 'When was the last time I did that,' I wondered to myself. Realizing that I was burning up, I stopped sucking for a moment so that I could take off my blouse and undo my bra. He stopped me. Firmly he grabbed me by both shoulders and stood me up. He then spun me around and in one fluid movement stripped me from my blouse. My breathing was ragged by this point with my breasts wanting to break free of their confinement. As he popped the clasps, my back arched and I fell back into him, resting the back of my head and upper back on his chest. I was so desperate to have him manhandle my breasts and he didn't disappoint me. First he massaged them so that his hands nearly covered the complete flesh of my mounds. I could hear myself moan but it seemed like it wasn't produced from my body. Then as he lightly encircled my nipples with his fingertips, I could feel the goosebumps rise up on my skin and my nipples become hard as gemstones.

My breasts were aching for more. They always had. My soon to be ex never realized this despite my repeated not so subtle hints, but Mr. Powell knew. He spun me around to face him. He then grabbed my left tit and squeezed it while placing his mouth completely over my full areola. But as he began to suck and nip I realized that I could barely stand any longer. I was on my tiptoes as a pure reflexive action from the exquisite sensation. Balancing carefully but still in control until he used his fingers to pinch my right nipple. I buckled. Falling back into the awaiting oversized chair, his mouth making a loud pop as I inadvertently pulled away. Part of me was relieved as I needed to catch my breath. That didn't last long however as he squeezed my cheeks forcing my mouth open to accept his cock again. Plunging into me deeper than before. Gone was the sweetness, the tender kiss but instead replaced with a sexual urgency, an animal wanting to fuck my mouth. He grabbed my hair and proceeded to do just that. And I realized, right then and there, that I'd been waiting, literally all my life, for a man who wanted me so urgently but yet could also show such tenderness and consideration.