She had her hair in a tight bun, her dress a thick wool business dress in battleship grey, support hose and black nurse's earth shoes. No man in recorded history would harass or even notice her. Her allegations were patently false, even sad. Knowing psychology a bit, I knew that she believed them. I could and should have faked it for an hour and sent her on her way. Foolishly, I tried a bit of shock therapy; it worked, but I had risked my career too.
Me: "Tell me, and show me, just what he did."
Martha: "Ok, young man, come and sit by me. [I did. Hereafter, assume I do what she describes.] Now put your hand on my knee. There's a good boy. Now with your other, put it lightly above my bodice about here. [She pointed to her bust.] Now, start pawing at my breast as your hand inches up my thigh. [Here was the risk; I had no recording of her instructions; this could look mighty bad for me.] Now, do you SEE what I mean about advances...why I never." [She slapped me, and then quickly apologized.]
I kept my hands right there. I stared into her eyes which had the oddest look of desperation. It was an odd, "don't hurt me" combined with "please don't ignore me". I had to take a chance...I HAD to know.
Me: "Do you believe that I am your boss, just like that day? [She nodded weakly.] Okay, Martha, do you really WANT to get ahead in this department? [She nodded weakly.] Then take off those clothes, NOW!"
I turned away from her. This was strategic. She could easily run out, either forgetting this whole thing, or lodging a complaint which no doubt would be rejected like her 1st accusation. On the other hand, she just might...
I kept my clothes on and turned; you cannot imagine my shock. Martha stood before me, absolutely NUDE...That was only shock number one. Shock number two was that she was the sleeper beauty of all time. No, she didn't look like Lindsay Lohan or Katy Perry; she did look mature, but with a body similar to Sophia Loren when she did work in her 40's. My guess was 36D-28-37 (as a wild guess.) She stood there shivering. I came up to her and hugged her. I whispered to her:
Me: "You are SO beautiful. If no man has noticed you, it is an absolute disgrace. My request, my hope, my prayer is that I can worship you here, today. I understand completely if you want to slap me, run away, or kick me where the sun doesn't shine. I am going to sit here with my eyes closed. You may leave quietly or stay with me. Either way, please know...at this moment, for our purposes, just between the two of us...I love you. I kissed her on the forehead and sat, eyes closed tightly. I expected that door to open and close after 5 minutes.
I heard a sniffle, or was it a sob. One minute, two minutes, and then a kiss. I opened my eyes. Sitting in my lap, I hugged her as hard as I could. She reciprocated. She went to my ear.
Martha: "This isn't fair, you know. Here I am in the altogether and you haven't removed anything; let's make it fairer, shall we?"
I removed absolutely everything. Her slightly mottled hands reached out and petted my cock as it drooped six inches in length. She clumsily moved her fingers along its sleek sides as she cupped my family jewels. She hefted them.
Martha: "My, my, you are rather well-equipped down there. My dear departed Stewart was not this big when he was excited, no more than four inches I used to think. And my goodness, these family jewels, they are like ostrich eggs, so heavy and full of seed. You scare me; I think my days of breeding are over, but with these huge globes [She jiggled my swollen testes.] I think you could knock up any woman from 18 to 100. Well, young man, if you really insist, I shall allow you to vanquish me, but just this once. "
The psychoanalyst-type flat leather couch was perfect for our purposes. She lay there, raising her knees, her ever so slightly shaking hands framing her entrance. I mounted her, allowing her the 'honors' of putting it in. She moaned in mock pain over my size, but it somehow fit. I was hyper-careful given her over-50 status. When I heard what seemed like an orgasm, I joined her, bathing her inner walls with a copious outpouring of my potent seed. I did not know, or care, about the status of her fertility. I just knew that her womb was unprotected and receptive; that alone was an inescapable invitation for me or any man. So, I pumped her as full of my sperm as I could, the excess seeping out of her well-fucked cunt, dripping, oozing out. The river of white excess goop made a small river across the leather couch down to the floor below. I kissed her tenderly and lay with her. I didn't have an appointment the next hour, so we rested for quite a while. She finally dressed and kissed me on the cheek. She knew that what we did was an exercise in psychology and not a portent of relationships in the real world.
The next case also dealt with harassment. Unlike Martha and virtually all of the similar cases, this one WAS bona fide. Heather was a leggy blonde; her squat, balding, over-50 boss had pawed away at her and insisted that she go to the boss' house at the beach. Instead, she went to HR, which referred her to me to either confirm or deny her case. The first shock was seeing her. Heather was almost identical to Pamela Anderson—not the odd looking surgeon's special of recent years, but the original, the epitome of beauty. The second shock was her revelation...her boss was a woman. I must say, after looking her over, that was not such a surprise at all.
Heather: "So, you DO believe that a boss, even a female boss, would hit on me?"
Me: "Miss, to be brutally frank, with your incredible figure, any human, male or female, would be moved. I will say right now, as you see here, I am marking 'confirmed' as to your story. I would like to see just what happened for my records, if you would be so kind."
Heather: "Well, okay, if you insist. It was during my evaluation. I noticed that she was staring at me almost all day that Monday. I had a feeling that I should dress for the review as if she were a man. So I did; tight blouse with no bra, tight short skirt about 8 inches above the knee. No stockings but a bikini wax. Smooth, smooth thighs, silky legs. Finally, high sandals with just a Lucite band across the top, my pretty red toes and little heels sticking out. I must say I wanted to look hot and did. Just before I got to her office, I put my hands under my heavy boobs, pushing them up. Then I pinched both nipples roughly, making them get angry and poke out like thumbs. I sat in her office like Mary in the old Mary Tyler Moore show, all legs. I dangled one of the shoes. So help me, that no-neck bull dyke sat on the chair by me. She grabbed the ankle of the dangling shoe, pushed the shoe off, and held that leg out like she was appraising a work of art. She caressed my silky smooth legs, then lifted my foot, where she actually kissed the foot, then just went wild on the soft soles of that foot. Her stubby hands went to town on that leg, headed in frantic grabs for my womanhood. At that point, I pushed her off me and went direct to HR.
At this point, I was huffing and puffing. I unfortunately was wearing tan slacks that day and my huge ten inch hard on was horizontal stretching clear across me under the belt. She saw that.
Heather: "Oh, God, I am sorry. Here you are, trusting me enough to confirm my story BEFORE I even told it, and I am taunting you with my story. Well, you helped me get back pay and a promotion; the least I can do is take this horrible burden off you. Here, please let me."
She motioned me over. Who was I to complain. Down went the zipper, in reached her red polished fingernailed hands. My cock was stiff, my balls full. I felt like warning her, but the words couldn't quite escape. Her ruby lips were upon my huge cockhead; due to her incredible sex appeal and that hot story, I was not going to have time to read "War and Peace" before I was going off. Within moments, my huge cock swelled, the little slit opening to the size of a bottle cap, and I fired. Her cheeks inflated like Dizzy Gillespie, and then she noisily swallowed. She started to let go, but I said:
Me: "Sorry, but there is a little more..."
She keyholed me and sure enough, my balls pumped her cheeks full again. Sounding like Popeye downing spinach, she swallowed yet again. I gave her several mouthfuls; she swallowed most, but at the end, she drooled out an enormous torrent. You might have seen it in adult films, but it was incredibly hot; this waterfall of thick semi-clear fluid was oozing slowly down her chin. God, I felt so virile seeing that. She had done her best, but my unit had beaten her in the end. She cleaned up, as did I. Off my confirmation, they fired her boss and made her the department head. She was nice enough to have problems twice more, which ended up with my giving her a mouthful or a face full.
The next case was Sam and Paula, the re-union special. Their relationship continued after our first meeting. She got pregnant after my single attempt, to my secret joy and pride. Seeing her with her swollen belly gave me a private thrill. She was a dour woman, however. Her Sam kept the high school sweethearts notion too long; the expiration date was just before our first meeting. Now, it was way out of date. Any man would have bolted. As an example of her domination, they paid an informal visit to me during lunch, some eight months after our first meeting. She was hugely swollen with my child. She came in and instructed her husband Sam to come in and behave himself, in a tone like one would talk to a child, or a dog. He sat down meekly. She then flamboyantly came up to me and kissed me. I am ashamed to admit it, but I didn't care that he was sitting there. She was hot, and the mother of my baby. So, I kissed her back. Hard. We broke our kiss, and I bent down, lifted the 'Baby On Board' blouse, and kissed her tummy.
