That first successful time with the boss seemed to be a turning point in my life as a CockSlut, both at work, and for me personally. I started having more encounters with the boss. Sex was now a daily thing, usually once in the morning and once some time after lunch, always with a blowjob. He wanted me to practice taking as much of him in my mouth as I could, and I was gradually getting better. At this point I still had about an inch to go, but had made a lot of progress in suppressing my gag reflex. Molly was helping with that.
Speaking of Molly, evenings with her became a little more frequent. Maybe twice a week, at the end of the day, she'd tell me to go home with her. At this point my ass was getting fucked up to four times a day. I won't say that I didn't enjoy it.
In fact, I really started embracing my role. I was being used, I know. Please understand, I was and still am fully aware of the fact that I'm being used, but in an odd way, that's a huge turn-on for me. It's not the same as being taken advantage of. I'm being paid, very well, and no one is abusing me. I am selling my body, on terms I approve of. There's power there.
So yes, I accepted and even embraced the role. I kept myself neatly shaved as the boss preferred. Apparently Molly was fond of it as well. All three of us, myself and both of my lovers, were perfectly smooth everywhere. I also started going to the gym. Having sex three and four times a day was exhausting. I had two insatiable partners to keep up with, so I needed the added strength and stamina. Plus, eventually, as the results became more visible, both the boss and Molly noticed, and commented, in positive ways. I eventually achieved a modest six-pack, but nothing like some of the models you'll see on the internet. I wasn't that defined, but I mean... I looked good naked. That was the point, or one of them anyway: to uh... sell the product.
I was still always on the receiving end of the sex, with both of them. For the boss, this was a power thing. He could fuck a guy all he wanted and that was fine, but wouldn't dream of allowing himself to be fucked. No, his dick went into things, and other dicks did not go into him. Molly, on the other hand... I still hadn't properly fucked her. She always insisted on using one of the two dildos, strapped to her hips. Usually it was the bigger one, which was fine. She did, occasionally, go down on me, but even that was for her. Sucking cock was a big turn-on, she said, which I understood, so I just let her do her thing. She rarely let me cum in her mouth, and even when she did, she spit it back out, normally onto me.
There were other changes too, other than sex and my relationships with these two co-workers. I had signed a lease on a new apartment, closer to work and in a much, much nicer building. Rent was more than double the old place, plus I was living alone, so my expenses just for a space to live went through the roof. I could afford it though, and the boss said that it was important to keep up appearances, to look the part of an important, and well-paid, employee. He insisted I buy a car, a new and nice, if not luxury model. I hesitated when he suggested it, wary of taking on a new, expensive lease and a car loan. He just shrugged and said to not worry about it. "Numbers can be adjusted as needed," was how he put it. I wound up going with a Lexus: higher-end, but not over-the-top luxury either.
So that's where my life was, at this point where we're picking up the story. I had all the sex I could possibly want, even if it was... unconventional. I was suddenly making money, living in a nice place, driving my own car. I knew I could get used to this.
One morning, just after a particularly vigorous blowjob, the boss was sitting on his couch, nude, huge cock flopped over onto his thigh. I knelt on the floor, sitting back on my feet, the musky taste of his cum fresh on my tongue. It had become rare, lately, that he wanted to cum in my mouth. Now that sex was a possibility, the boss usually pulled out of my mouth well before he came and told me to bend over. Not today, though. Head was apparently all he wanted, and I have to admit I was slightly disappointed.
"No sex today?" I asked, maybe turning up the disappointment just a little.
"Sorry CockSlut, no, not this morning anyway. No time." He stood and I let my eyes take in his impressive body. He too must work out, because even though he was probably ten years older than me, he was shaped like a twenty-something who took care of himself. He was fit, lean, just a little muscular. And of course... that cock. Even flaccid, it dangled nearly halfway to his knees, and only got bigger. He must have a miracle-worker for a tailor, because when dressed, you just couldn't see it.
"Big day?" I asked, standing now and finding my clothes.
"Not exactly," he said, stepping into his boxers. "Getting ready for one though. How do you feel about flying?"
*****
The following morning, the boss and I sat next to each other in the waiting area of terminal fourteen, each with a small carryon between his feet. I stared out the big windows as the planes took off and landed. Ours wouldn't be there for another half hour or so, but these days you have to get to the airport like... five hours ahead of time. It was still dark outside, and I yawned.
"OK, we're all checked in," came a voice from behind. I didn't bother to look: it was Molly. When the boss told me she was going too, I had tried to protest, to explain how miserable she would make the trip, and how frosty our relationship was, the sex not withstanding. Apparently, he knew all about what went on between the two of us, including every encounter at her apartment. He repeated details of one time in particular, and something I had said in the heat of the moment, something about how it was almost as good as his cock. I had immediately turned red.
No, Molly was needed for most of the administrative junk, and I was reminded that while my title technically was "Executive Assistant", my role was CockSlut, and that I had other things to do during the trip. I grudgingly agreed, not that any of this was my choice.
The company owned a private jet, and the boss was entitled to use it, except some executives had it in the Bahamas somewhere, and it was unavailable. The company wasn't in the habit of chartering flights (why should they, when they owned their own jet?) so we flew commercial. We flew first class though, with our seats close together. Drinks were complementary and we weren't discussing business during the trip, so I availed myself of the menu.
We checked in at the hotel. It wasn't a five-star, but damn, it was still nice, and each of us had a separate room. Our luggage was taken upstairs, and Molly took off to find the restaurant. Apparently she gets the plane equivalent of car sick, and never eats before flying. As soon as she was out of earshot, the boss moved ever so slightly closer to me. "I need to talk to you," he said, his voice low. There were several small seating areas scattered throughout the lobby, and he pointed to one that was particularly secluded. He let me sit first, then took the chair directly next to me.
"Do you know why I brought you on the trip?" he asked, voice just as soft, as if we were discussing clandestine plans.
I shrugged. "I assume it was to, you know, if you wanted me, wanted to..."
