Each time I came to work, my boss had a peculiar routine with me. He would have me kneel on the cold marble floor and suck on his huge cock until he told me to stop. Sometimes it was only for a few minutes, sometimes I would be pleasuring him for so long that my jaw would feel sore and my knees ached. But he never came. Not even when I looked up at his scowling face with begging eyes. Instead, he would pull his fat dick out of me and tuck it into his Calvin Klein briefs. He would zip up his trousers and tell me whether I was a good girl or I needed more practice.
When I was good, he liked to walk me into the sunny atrium in the middle of the house and offer me champagne. When I was bad, he would put his hand stiffly on the back of my neck and walk me into his intimidating study, sitting me across from him in a cold leather chair.
Either way, after that, he would give me my assignment. Sometimes my assignment was for a week, a day, or a few month. It could be as inane as signing hundreds of documents in Mr. Sterne's name, or steaming his clothing. Sometimes it was perverse. I had several of his clients that I was required to send a nude photo to every day, my pose in the picture depended on the client's request. I also attended business meetings with Mr. Sterne. My role sometimes was to slowly remove my clothes as part of a presentation, or to let each meeting attendee touch my bare breasts.
My friends were enjoying the summer between high school and college while I worked for Mr. Sterne. Each day, thousands of dollars dropped into my account. Sometimes with instructions to buy a certain outfit or wig, or to attend my next day of work wearing a specific perfume.
Today, he surprised me. "Your assignment is to attend a gala with me. Tonight. My wife will be there."
"Oh," I said, unsure how to react.
"My wife and I's relationship is none of your business, keep that in mind," he said curtly. "But you are to listen to me, not her. You do not take any orders from her."
"Yes, sir," I said, still confused.
"Now, come with me. I have a dress for you."
He led me to his hallway-sized walk-in closet. It was adorned with three Tiffany chandeliers that dripped with crystals and beads of gold. There were cushioned seats for slipping on shoes, there were rows of shelves lit by hidden lights. The shelves were lined neatly with shoes, stacks of shirts, velvet jewelry displays, and photos of young naked women who I assumed to be his past assistants. None of their faces were in the photos.
Once in the back of the closet, I noticed a gown hanging on a display hanger in front of a full length mirror. It was the most beautiful dress I had ever seen. The fabric was soft, but structured. It was black, elegant, timeless. Not a single seam could be seen on the outside, and it was embellished with just a few minimalist details. A slit going up the thigh, a symmetrical lack of shoulder coverage, a hint of sheerness in the back of the dress that would tease a view of the line of my spine and my shoulder blades. I stared at it in admiration, realizing it was in my exact measurements. "This is beautiful. Thank you."
In the mirror I noticed Mr. Sterne looking intensely at me. I heard his belt unbuckle and I felt his hands on me quite suddenly. With one hand he pressed my head sideways against the mirror and with the other he grabbed my pussy from behind. With my cheek against the cold glass, I struggled to ask. "What are you doing?"
"You can't go to this party as a virgin. Not this one." He roughly shoved my panties aside and pushed up my denim skirt above my ass.
"Wh-what?" I said, breathlessly.
"She'll know," he whispered. And suddenly, he pushed the full length of his cock into my pussy.
I let out a wail of pain. I was barely wet enough to take in his length. The feeling of his dick inside me was overwhelming and painful. I wasn't ready. Despite this, he shoved himself into me. His hips smashed into my ass and pressed my breasts and face harder into the glass of the mirror.
"I have to fuck you," he breathed.
"Wh-whyyy?" I moaned.
He pulled out slightly and then pushed back in. I nearly howled with the pain. I could feel warmth on my upper thigh. Blood, perhaps.
"She'll know," he whispered again. And he began pumping in and out of my pussy with the strength of what felt like three men. I cried out each time, squeezing my eyes closed and trying to claw my fingers against the mirror.
"You wanted it," Mr. Sterne said angrily. "Don't make those bitch sounds."
I moaned, and his dick began to slide in and out of me more smoothly as I became wet. I did want him. Ever since my job interview, I wanted him. I wanted him even more as he gave all of his attention to his beautiful daughter and not me. He was finally inside me, taking me violently because he couldn't stand it any longer. I loved that thought, and this time when my mouth opened I moaned happily and my tongue found the cold of the mirror.
"Give it to me, daddy," I said, teasing him.
"Don't fucking talk," he retorted. He reached over my back and pushed my head again. I opened my eyes and watched our reflection. His expression was angry, but as I watched, it turned to a softer expression. It was fascination mixed with longing. He held my waist and started fucking me faster than before. The contact of our bodies made a loud smacking sound, like my body hitting the mirror. With his mouth open in a helpless sort of way, I found him cute rather than terrifying.
"You like it, daddy?" I asked.
He didn't respond, he kept looking at his dick as it moved in and out of my body. His hand turned and two of his fingers found their way into my mouth. I sucked on them eagerly.
His face crushed into a wince, and he moaned. I moaned back, knowing he was about to cum.
"Fuck you," he struggled to say. He pushed into me deeply again, shoving my helpless body into the mirror harder than ever before. Then, I felt my pussy overflowing with sloppy warmth. His cock was pulsing inside me. Mr. Sterne bent over my back in relief, groaning loudly.
His hand dropped from my ass and slid between my legs.he pushed his straightened hand upward and rubbed it up and down against my clit. Between his skin and mine was a hot layer of his cum. And it was being rubbed into my pussy.
My body trembled, and my pussy tightened. And then, a release, as an orgasm ripped through my body. My knees trembled and I moaned, almost screaming and collapsed on the ground. My hand flew down to my clit to continue rubbing as Mr. Stern's hand fell off of me. I came harder than I ever had from masturbating. My toes curled and my back arched.
When I finally opened my eyes, Mr. Stern was above me, buttoning his pants and straightening his tie. He looked down at me. "Get dressed. Meet me downstairs."
-
His chauffeur was there once I came down in my new gown. Mr. Sterne was sipping brandy when he looked up at me. His expression was hard to read, but he gave me a curt nod that indicated that I was to his liking.
We rode in a limo into the next town. I drank more than usual on the way there. I wasn't of age to drink, but my boss fed me about three tumblers of whiskey during the ride and I didn't object. I guess I was more nervous than I realized.
I got really horny by the end of the ride and climbed onto Mr. Sterne's lap despite his objections.
"You think I'm hot," I said, leaning into his face.
He looked away. "Don't act so desperate."
