K. Linford Little is nothing if not demanding.
He is demanding as a boss and demanding as a lover. I should know, I have been both to the middle-aged insurance company executive.
As mentioned in other stories, I left the insurance company's employment as well as resigning from my affair with the now slightly-greying man after I realized the relationship was heading nowhere. I was 20 when I met him, he said he was 35 although I later found out our age difference was closer to 20 years. I thought women were vain, but Mr. Little was every bit as concerned about his looks and age. He was wedded to his wife, presumably until death did one part, and I had to get on with my life.
Over time I got over the man, secured a new job, found a nice boyfriend, yet something was missing from my life: Mr. Little. Ultimately we found ourselves back together meeting on the sly whenever and wherever we could. The impromptu meetings were the best for me, as the excitement of sampling forbidden fruit and all the fiery romance of an affair gave my libido more than it's share of toe- curling satisfaction.
Oh, it might have been better if we were in a true relationship rather than a sexual one, but each of us knew it as it was: great, wonderful sex.
When we were working together we'd get together for lunch and more, or after work for a quick liaison, but with me working these days across town we found it more difficult to get together. While we didn't get together as often as before, when we did get together it was usually a satisfying respite.
Just last week was one such occasion. It had been a busy week, and Mr. Little and I only had occasion to speak on the telephone once during the week. My boyfriend Branden and I had planned a Saturday night at the Atlantic City casinos and work consumed me with a deadline-prodded project. My new boss was sweet, quiet and devoted to his wife Samantha. That suited me just fine, as having gotten involved with a superior once was enough as far as I was concerned.
In any event it was just 15 minutes from quitting time when a call came in from Mr. Little. "Robyn, let's get together," he asked.
I smiled to myself, imagining the possibility, but quickly told him that my boyfriend had a big Italian dinner planned for 6 and had begged me not to be late.
"Please, Robyn, please, I have missed you and I, uh, need you."
Somewhere in that brief message was the secret code meaning my boss needed a blow job. There wasn't much time, I really did have to be home on time, but the lure of seeing my lover more than made up for the concern about being late for dinner. I told him we could briefly get together, but it had to be fast.
Mr. Little suggested a parking lot near a bike path near my apartment, and I took the bait. My mouth watered as I begged off work a couple minutes early and slid into a parking spot beside Mr. Little's Mercedes a few minutes later.
"Hi honey," he said as I slipped into the front seat next to him, slipping my hands around his neck as his face closed until our tongues were entwined. We held the lip-lock for several minutes before coming up for air. We spoke for a couple minutes, then began kissing once again. After a bit of maneuvering I heard the tell-tale sounds of a zipper click-sliding open.
I reached down between his legs, slowly and tantalizingly sliding my hand up his manly thigh, and came into contact with a rock-hard missile of man-flesh protruding out of his suit pants.
Breaking the kiss, I looked down. There it was, Mr. Little's cock smiling up at me. I glanced around, and seeing the coast was clear, moved up onto my knees on the passenger seat and bent over. I lowered my head and opened wide, slipping his rock-hard dick into my mouth. It was a trek I knew well, having taken it hundreds of times over our relationship, yet each time was a bit different.
"Ohhh, Robyn, I've missed you!" said my former boss, slowly pumping his hips toward my lips. "I've been thinking about your mouth all day, and prayed you could meet me."
