Becky shivered involuntarily as she circled the linen-draped tables set up like lily pads in the grand ballroom of this historic hotel, searching for her place setting. Finally she found her seat. "Mr. and Mrs. Kyle Young," read the namecard.
Kyle squeezed his wife's hand, gawking with wide-eyed wonder at the astonishing luxury all around them. The ballroom was decked out with a mind-boggling array of bespoke detail work in a classic Art Deco style. It featured a spectacular gilded ceiling made of thousands of glittering metallic tiles; circular chandeliers; a brightly-lit bar with two prominent, old fashioned cash registers; a dancefloor; an orchestra stage; carved wooden archways inset into the walls; and an ornate gold, pink and green carpet with a retro square scheme.
"Wow, Dick White sure knows how to throw a party."
Becky was quiet. She saw the namecard next to hers. It belonged to the guest of honor, Reginald Cox, the outgoing Chief Accountant for The White Group, retiring after nearly fifty years of service to the company. His friends called him Reggie, but Becky was not one of those. Mr. Cox was her boss. She formerly thought of him as a friend, but now she knew differently. With a sick feeling in her stomach, Becky remembered the time six months ago when she had gone to Mr. Cox to request an extension on the business loan that he had approved for her then-fiancé. Her boss gave the couple the extension, but not without extracting a price. He had taken Becky's body, right in his office, using her for his own demented lust, dumping his dark seed deep into her belly, which was as white as a licked candy cane.
She shivered again.
It was luck that the innocent young brunette had not become pregnant. Since then, Becky had kept her boss at a distance, making sure never to be alone with him. Although she had previously sent him a "save the date" for her wedding, she made it a point not to invite him to the ceremony and she didn't care if he took offense. She hoped he did. More importantly, Becky hoped the disgusting old lecher had given up his lust for her, getting all he needed from that one long afternoon in his office. She was a married woman now -- Mrs. Kyle Young.
Becky had been counting the days until Mr. Cox's retirement, but she had been dreading his retirement party ever since her husband told her excitedly that they were going. Until then, Becky hadn't known that her boss was getting this lavish send-off. Reggie had not invited her, perhaps returning the favor for the wedding snub. Cannily, however, he had invited Kyle, telling him he wanted to celebrate the success of his new business. Reggie had also said that, now that he was retiring, he would be spending more time on his own personal business dealings, hinting that there might be some opportunities for Kyle's new start up company.
That night, as her husband slept next to her, Becky was flooded with memories of getting fucked for hours in Mr. Cox's office. Laying on her back in bed, she felt herself whisked away to when she was laying on her boss' rather shabby desk, writhing helplessly as his fat gut pressed down on her and his pipe-hard snake pounded into her pussy. She didn't know if she was awake and fantasizing or lucid dreaming, but the experience was visceral and intense. His scent is what transported her; she could smell him on her still. Mr. Cox gave off an earthy, musky scent, like stale water and cocoa butter, mixed with the lingering stench of his menthol cigarettes. That was the peculiar odor in her nostrils as her boss bore down on her forcefully, fucking her to so many multiple orgasms that her legs shook uncontrollably for a solid minute afterwards. It was a sexual high that few people will ever experience and which she had never known before or since. She wanted to block the thoughts, but couldn't help herself as she slid a hand underneath her nightgown, rubbing her wet pussy. With her loving husband snoring softly beside her, she manipulated her cunt into a dripping orgasm, thinking only of Mr. Cox as she climaxed.
Becky had been filled with shame ever since, unable to deal with the raw desire she felt when she remembered her boss' sweaty, bloated body slamming into hers. His gut felt like cottage cheese as her elegant hands sank into its flabby depths, helplessly pushing against it, unable to stop him from pummeling her sweet young pussy. Every night, depraved temptations dominated her fantasies like Mr. Cox had dominated her that day on his desk. Even when she made an effort to think of Kyle, the lover in her mind would always turn into an elderly black man, gray-haired with a gut, taming her with his massive dick and using her as a toy for his pleasure. The fact that her betrayal by a trusted father figure brought her unbelievable sexual pleasure -- then and now -- disgusted her. She had hoped these intrusive thoughts would fade, but they only seemed to grow more powerful with each time she allowed her mind to venture there. She knew it was wrong to think about her boss like that, but she couldn't bring herself to stop, especially not with how intensely she came every time. Her eyes rolled back lustily at the thought of him fucking her raw.
Now, here she was, at the man's retirement party, seated right next to him. At least he hasn't seen me yet, she thought to herself.
"Rebecca! Kyle!" Reggie boomed as he made his way toward her, arms extended for a hug. Becky shuddered as he pulled her close and those fat, spittle-caked lips kissed her cheek. She smelled menthol tobacco on his breath.
"Thank you so much for inviting us, Mr. Cox," Kyle said, pumping the older man's hand. The vigor of the grip he got in return took him by surprise.
Standing next to Kyle, however, Reggie looked even older and fatter than he had six months ago. Becky had a flashback to that large belly slapping against her upturned ass. Unconsciously, she moved closer to her husband.
"Don't mention it, Kyle." Reggie put his arm around the young entrepreneur's shoulders, deftly dividing the newlyweds. "I hear your business is doing great and I think that's cause to celebrate."
Reggie winked at Becky as he steered her husband away from her.
"Besides," he said softly into Kyle's ear, "I may have some business to throw your way, if you're interested."
"That...that would be great! Anything you need!"
"Well, Kyle, I'd love to discuss it more over a drink, but first I'd like to show Rebecca up to my suite to work out the figures. Just boring accounting stuff. If you wouldn't mind?"
Becky was about to protest, petrified of being alone with this decrepit lecher.
"Sure, I'm sure she'd love to help out, wouldn't you, honey?"
Becky saw the pleading look in her husband's eyes. Mr. Cox had already managed to plant the idea of money in Kyle's mind and now he was looking to his pretty wife to play along and keep the old boy happy. Becky saw no way out of the situation, knowing it wouldn't look good if she refused and afraid of what might happen if Mr. Cox decided to let it be known how the couple had really qualified for that loan. Besides, the old man wouldn't try anything at his own retirement party, especially with Kyle in the same hotel. Would he?
Slowly, she nodded and forced a smile.
"Great!" Reggie said, transferring his arm to Becky's shoulders and leading her down another hallway as he called back to Kyle. "Have a drink at the bar over there. It's on me. We won't be long."
Kyle turned towards the bar and ordered one of the special craft cocktails that had been prepared for the evening. "White man's burden," he mumbled to himself as he brought the glass to his lips.
He took a last look as Mr. Cox disappeared through a door, his lovely wife in tow. He smiled. Mr. Cox was old enough to be her grandfather but he seemed smitten like a schoolboy by the young wife's beauty. Kyle couldn't imagine the older man and his wife together and shook his head in pity at the flabby, gray-haired businessman. It just went to show that no matter how much money you had, you couldn't have everything. Kyle drained his first cocktail and looked for the bartender to get another.
When they reached the second floor, Reginald Cox turned a key, pushed Becky quickly into a room and closed the door. The old man had far from overcome his lust for the adorable young fuck mouse. In fact, his need for her wet pussy had only intensified. Ever since he had cum inside of her lightly furred cunt in his office, he had dreamed of making the once-faithful young wife pregnant and to hear her beg him to do it.
The fact that he hadn't knocked the bitch up the first time around had him scheming to get her alone again and his retirement party made for the perfect occasion. His hints about throwing Kyle some leads had worked like a charm. He already had her ambitious young husband slobbering for his business.
Now it was time to give his breathtaking young wife the business. Again.
Becky found herself alone with the old sybarite in a spacious, lavender pink suite fit out with garish purple furniture and a bed adorned with Pepto Bismol pink and mint green cushions. The carpet featured a lurid peacock pattern that resembled erect purple penises inside concentric green rings. The room was jarring and innocent little Becky couldn't contain a shiver of fear at what her horny boss had planned for her.
"What do you want from me?"
Her voice wavered. Reggie loved the little scared girl she became when cornered.
