In the hours following Caroline Jarrett's surreal encounter with her Boss behind the closed doors of his office, the middle aged divorcee fought to make any sense of what had happened.
"You just went against everything you've ever stood for Caroline," her saintly inner conscience berated. "Not only was it unprofessional to let that happen in the first place, you let it go on for nearly a minute, then you made a Goddamn fool of yourself when you tried to leave spilling your purse all over the floor. Is that the way you want to get your promotions...by being the Boss' personal slut?"
"But you didn't do anything wrong Caroline...You were the one that put a stop to it before things really got out of hand...you looked into his eyes after it was over...you saw that look...he knew he was a guilty as you were...two consenting adults who obviously made a mistake but put the brakes on before things boiled over...his apology sounded genuine Caroline...nothing will come of this," the glass is half full part of her psyche tried to reassure.
"But how are you going to walk into work tomorrow and act like nothing ever happened?" she openly wondered.
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Dave sat alone in the privacy of his office for nearly an hour after Caroline left.
"What just happened?" he kept asking himself over and over, the whole time allowing the faint taste of Caroline on his lips to tease his palate.
Swirling side to side in his deluxe sized office chair, Dave rubbed his fingers against his right temple as he fixated on the spot on the floor where the two had shared their brief but passionate kiss an hour earlier.
"I want her...even more than I did before," he said dryly, knowing his best chance at having her had dissipated the instant Caroline tore her lips away from his and started to fumble for her things.
"Unless...," another more ghostly entity deep inside his psyche dared to whisper as he turned his gaze towards the spot on the floor where Caroline had accidentally spilled her purse.
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A Month Later
For the first time since their Pre-Christmas hotel get-together, Dave had acquired the services of Sheila and Destiny, this time for a lazy Sunday afternoon tryst.
Seated in one of the upscale hotel's luxurious chairs, Dave sat smirking at the beautiful black girl kneeling between his legs and felt his veins pulse at the way her thick cherry lips distended and churned around the girth of his grotesquely aroused manhood. Nearly hypnotized by the way repetitive way Destiny's mouth bobbed up and down on his crotch, Dave would steal the occasional glance over to Shelia on the bed and smiled at the way she casually rubbed her right hand over the panty clad triangle of her strawberry blonde public fleece.
"So...you've invited another girl along to join us?" Sheila asked, her curiosity tweaked as to her john's motives for the meeting.
"Yeah...I figured the more the merrier," Dave joked. "Actually...I met a girl at work a while ago and we were fooling around for a couple of weeks...one night the subject somehow got to what us three did a few months back and she seemed like she'd be interested in something like this ...so I decided I try to set something up...You don't mind the added company do you?"
"No...not at all...it sounds exciting," Sheila smiled. "Plenty of everything to go around!"
"Good...She should be here pretty soon...I just figured we'd get a head start...so to speak," Dave quipped before rubbing his hands over Destiny's head as she continued to briskly lather his cock.
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"I really should have called his cell first to make sure I was at the right place," Caroline Jarrett groaned as she struggled to make her way through the labyrinth of hotel corridors until she finally reached to her destination.
"Here it is...Room 447," she mumbled, checking the hand-scribbled note in her pocket one last time just to make sure. "I can't believe I'm here working on a Sunday...Dave said this would be rare and how could I tell him 'no' when he asked me to come along to help tie up the loose ends of this big contract so we could have everything in writing for first thing Monday morning."
"At least they picked a nice hotel," Caroline chirped, admiring her ritzy surroundings, the whole time filling with a sense of vindication and pride that her and her Boss had been able to get past their passionate interlude a month earlier in Dave's office and have him still trust her enough to invite her along to help with such a big assignment.
Patting her sweater and hips, and making one last attempt to caress her hair was straight, Caroline plastered on her friendliest smile and knocked on the door.
Several moments later, Caroline braced herself as a set of footsteps crept closer to the inside of the door. Taking a deep breath as she waited for the door to open, Caroline's face went ash white and she felt as if the floor had collapsed beneath her the instant she first peered inside.
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For a litany of reasons, Dave Sisler had been left somewhat numb and confused in the days following his stolen kiss with Caroline. Even though the tenderness and warmth of Caroline's lips still resonated on his a full month after the brief interlude, what Dave kept coming back to was the photo in the wallet Caroline had spilled on the floor when she scurried to leave.
"That girl in the picture...that girl in the picture...that girl in the picture...it just has to be a coincidence," he would tell himself before a sadistic need to know pressed him to investigate further.
Tantalized by the damning ramifications of his potential discovery, Dave had spent the following evening planted on a barstool near the stage of the club where Destiny danced.
Steadily becoming drunk as he tried to compare the sweaty face of the stripper on stage to the yearbook photo that tumbled from Caroline's purse, once the pretty black girl's last dance was done at a little after 1am, Dave excused himself out to the parking lot, and the stealth of his car, and patiently waited for the young college girl to make her way out of the club to leave for the evening.
Jotting down the license number as Destiny got in and started the engine, later the next day Dave called in a favor to a friend of his at the Illinois Division of Motor Vehicles and in a short order, his suspicions were confirmed.
That nugget of information safely embroidered into every fiber of his brain, Dave then had to decide what, if anything, he was going to do with the knowledge of who Destiny really was.
"Nothing...you're not going to do a damn thing with it," he would frequently tell himself in the days following the discovery Even though he found himself digging deeper into Caroline's past and present, and inevitably, other slices of interesting data continued to rise to his attention.
One of the more useful bits of information in Dave's search turned out to be the discovery that the college scholarship Caroline's oldest Son was getting happened to be sponsored by a company that Dave had a friend on the board of. A friend that conveniently Dave had first hand knowledge of several potentially embarrassing extra-marital affairs. A friend that would certainly be willing to trade the anonymous revocation of one of his company's scholarships to keep word of his private indiscretions away from his unsuspecting wife.
So as Sheila cautiously opened the hotel room door and stepped aside so the middle aged black woman standing there could see all the way in, Dave's adrenaline crested in fear of how the next few moments would play out.
"Caroline...Glad you could make it," Dave said dryly, the words having no effect juxtaposed with the image of a young black girl kneeling between his legs with his dick snugly embedded inside her gaping mouth.
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Motionless, Caroline's heart skipped as she stood in the doorway. Expecting to see two grown men, perhaps dressed in suits going over a pile of paperwork on a table when the door swung open, she had no way to prepare herself for what she did see several feet in front of her.
"That...that almost looks like...like...Tijuanna on the floor," Caroline dreadfully mumbled, her eyes turning to cubes of ice in their sockets.
"It can't be...it's just a girl that looks...like...her," Caroline's inner and almost aimless rambling continued until an audible gasp escaped her throat.
"What's...what's...going...on in here?" she choked out loud, teetering side to side now on her pumps, knowing she was going to probably hate the eventual answer to her own question.
Still standing only half inside the doorway, Caroline felt as if a wrecking ball had rammed her gut when the young black girl kneeling at her Boss' feet turned to face her, with Dave's cock still lewdly wedged between her puffy lips.
"OH...MY...GOD...," Caroline muttered in slow motion the instant her maternal recognition kicked in.
"Ti...Ti...Tijuann...a," the older woman babbled, her honey brown cheeks now the color of paste as she watched Dave's sloppy, wet dick dangle free from her Daughter's trembling mouth.
"M...Ma...Mama," the young black sexpot's voice cracked with horror, her half naked body noticeably cowering on the floor as the gravity of the moment overtook her.
Smirking ever so slightly, Dave watched the scene play out between Caroline and Tijuanna, knowing it could explode at any moment. Taking his penis into the safety of his right palm, Dave blindly traced the fingertip of his index finger along the ridge of its still throbbing cockhead, unable to tear his morbid gaze away from two generations of the Jarrett family locked in an apocalyptic stare.
"Get your clothes on and get out of here," Caroline growled through gritted teeth at her Daughter, her normally serene and caring face now ulcered with anger as she paced to the center of the room.
"I don't know whether to kill him or you first?" Caroline added, with no hint the statement was a hallow threat.
