On Staff – Chapter 1

When I heard the tires of Melissa's Lexus crunch in the gravel of the front drive I pulled the wine cooler – previously prepared just for her – from the refrigerator and went to the front door to meet her. She enjoys seeing me standing there naked, waiting for her when she arrives home. Based on a phone call from her that afternoon I knew she'd had a less than perfect day and was certain that a cold wine cooler in her hand as soon as she came through the door would help. When the door opened and she saw me standing there, wine cooler in hand, she sighed deeply, put her briefcase down, shut the door behind herself, and said, "Oh Jim, you've guessed right again. That's exactly what I need after today and I hope you've got a pitcher of these cooling."

"Yes Missy, I do," I answered. "I thought you might be in the mood for one when you got here."

"What's that I smell for dinner?" she asked.

"Beef stew. It's been simmering and I can steam the veggies whenever you're ready to eat, Missy," I replied.

"Would you mind terribly if we saved that for tomorrow night?"she asked, "I'm not in the mood for something heavy. How about some BLTs and chips instead? Would you mind?"

"No ma'am, that's no big deal," I replied. "I'll go take it off the stove right now. When would you like the BLTs?"

"Later, after I work on your pitcher of coolers for a while." I headed for the kitchen to take the beef stew off so it could cool down.

—

I'm a cook, a professionally trained cook. After I graduated from an elite cooking school I went to work in a swanky restaurant. Starting out as a line cook, the pay wasn't that good and my wife and I had to really scrimp to get by. After eighteen months of sweating over stoves and grills on the line I was beginning to doubt the intelligence of being a chef. They didn't really tell you how hard it was to work your way up to decent money and less work. What I really wanted to do was be the owner, the boss, but it didn't look like I'd ever get there working as a line cook.

My break came when my mother-in-law, the old crone that she was, died and left Dana, my wife, a nice inheritance. It wasn't something to make us rich but it was enough for us to buy into a mid-level restaurant. The owner wanted to retire and we had enough cash to cover 75% of his asking price with us making monthly payments on the rest. His customer base was loyal and stuck with us as new owners and we were doing better than we probably had a right to expect. Dana worked part time as the hostess and we had retained the existing assistant manager so that we didn't have to be there every minute the place was open. Typically, I let Kenny, the assistant manager, open in the morning and cover until right after lunch when I'd come in to make sure the kitchen was ready for the dinner hour. One Wednesday I planned to be a little later due to a doctor's appointment. No big deal.

No big deal, at least, until I came in and found Kenny fucking the hell out of Dana in my office. She was sitting on the edge of my desk, dress pushed up, legs wrapped around Kenny's waist urging him on as he stood there, in MY office, his pants down around his ankles, pouring it to Dana for all he was worth. When I blundered in, Dana saw me first and gasped loudly. Kenny kept humping her like a fucking dog with its front legs wrapped around an old lady's knee. All I could say was, "What the fuck?" Kenny tried to jump away from Dana so fast he almost jerked her off the desk. As he turned toward me, his mostly erect dick flopping around, I yelled, "Get the fuck outa' here!" as I advanced toward him. Moving quickly, more quickly than a guy with his pants down around his ankles should be able to move, he dodged around me and was trying to pull his pants up as I saw his white ass disappear through the doorway. Turning toward my loving wife, Dana, I asked again, "What the fuck?"

She was leaning over, pulling her panties on as she said, "Whatever. Just deal with it, Jim!"

What the hell does that mean? I found out when I got served with papers for a divorce. She had a lot better lawyer than me, and I think he was real friendly with the judge. Based on the fact that it was her inheritance that we'd invested in the restaurant and her stories, lies I mean, of my mentally abusing her, Dana got everything for the most part. I got one of our cars and $10,000 from the restaurant. That was it, I was out on the street. I managed to get a job managing, well assistant managing anyway, another restaurant in town, found an apartment, and tried to get on with my life while Kenny and Dana ran "their" restaurant into the ground. "Oh well. Too fucking bad for them," was all I could think about it. Working afternoons and evenings six days a weak left little time for a social life and I was reduced to making love to my right hand on a regular basis for some relief.

Our primary restaurant supplier had an open house on a Monday, the slowest day of the week for restaurants, with a lot of us closed on that day. It was the supplier's opportunity to smooze with restaurant owners and managers and feed us some wine and appetizers. I welcomed the diversion as I cruised around the banquet room, wine glass in hand, checking out everyone in attendance. I never realized that the distributor was owned by a woman until I was introduced to her. Standing near her with an empty glass in her hand was, to me, a striking looking woman. I'm forty-one and she looked to be in her late thirties or so. She's fairly tall – about 5'7" – and just a little on the heavy side. Just heavy enough that her waist was a little thick but compared to her chest, her waist looked pretty damn slim. Wearing a business suit, a dark maroon skirt with a matching jacket, she filled out that jacket, filled it out till it looked like the top button could pop right off at any time. The white blouse she wore under the jacket was open at the collar and low enough to show some cleavage, well actually, a lot of cleavage. As I was gazing at her she turned almost around to speak to somebody and I saw her ass. It was an ass perfectly in proportion with those tits. Full, round, and very nice looking in that tight skirt.

She turned back toward me and our eyes met briefly. She flashed a faint smile, walked over, and held out her glass to me as she asked, "Would you mind getting me another glass of the white zin?"

"Sure, I'd be glad to. That was the white zin, right?" I asked.

"Yes, uh, James, the white zin." She was looking at my stick-on "Hi, my name is James" badge.

I looked down at her tits, I mean her name tag. "OK, Melissa, white zin coming right up," I tried to say as I turned toward the bar. I'm not sure it came out that clearly as I think I may have fucked it up somewhere between my brain and my lips. When I returned with the glass of wine, Melissa had moved away from the distributor and was standing slightly apart from everybody. "Here you go, Melissa," I told her as I offered her the glass.

Taking it from me, she asked, "Are you one of the owners?"

"No, I manage the Blue Spruce," I replied. "Are you familiar with it?"

"I know where it is, but I've never been in it," she answered.

"Which restaurant are you with?" I inquired.

"Oh, I'm not with a restaurant though several of them are clients. I'm with the marketing group that works with Kline />
"Oh, I see. What does a marketing group do for a distributor like Kline?"

"We get their name out in front of customers, potential customers, that sort of thing, we plan things like this open house," she replied. "Hey, this is boring, would you like to go get something real to eat? The appetizer thing isn't doing it for me."

Before I even knew it my lips were moving as I replied, "Sure. Where?"

"You're the restaurant manager, you choose."

"OK, how about the Magellan? They're open on Monday evenings." I asked.

"Fine with me. I'll drive," she replied.

Out in her car, a nice royal blue Lexus, she piloted us across town to the restaurant where we were able to get a table right away. Through dinner we carried on with our conversation. I learned that she was more than "with" the marketing group, she was highly positioned in it. I dumped the short version of my life history while she told me about her divorce, etc. When it came time for the check, she took it before I could reach for it. "I invited you, so I'll get this one," she told me.

"This one?" I thought to myself. She drove me back to my car at the convention hall.

"Can I have your number?" she asked before I had a chance to ask for hers.

Hmmm.

"Sure," I answered and told her.

Rather than write it down, she simply repeated a couple of times before telling me, "See you later."

As I watched her drive away I thought, "Interesting evening, interesting lady."

—

"Jim, did you hear what I said?" Melissa's question popped me back to reality.

"Uh, yeah. Well, no. My mind was off in la la land. I'm sorry, Missy. What was it?" I stammered.

"I said I think I'll get a soak before dinner. OK?" she patiently repeated to me.

"Oh, OK. I'll go get the tub ready," I answered as I headed for the stairs. Pausing I asked, "Are you ready for a refill?"

"Yeah, but I'll go get it. I'd rather you get me some hot water running," she answered. I headed up the stairs, my penis and testicles swinging back and forth wildly as I took the steps two at a time. When flaccid, my penis is, well, fairly large, larger than average, hanging down about six inches or so along with my testicles which hang about five or so except when I'm cold and they seek warmth and refuge from the chill. So they swing around rather comically when I walk. Unfortunately, I suppose, when erect my penis expands only slightly in length to just a little more than average at about six and half inches though it does gain a fair amount in girth over its flaccid state. Up in the master bath I had the water adjusted and was filling the soaker tub when Melissa came in dressed only in a floral print silk robe. As the tub filled she brushed her hair which, as she moved both arms over her shoulders, made her tits dance behind the silk, nipples tracing a circular path up and down in he floral print. Missy's a large woman, about 5'7" and 150 pounds or so. She carries that weight spread superbly on her frame with large breasts that, for me, sag just the way I like. They hang down a good bit while still having enough firmness in their double-D bulk to stand out from her body and not just lay there like a tennis ball on the end of a strip of bacon. Her hips and butt are in proportion to her breasts, with two fairly firm globes below her proportionate waist when viewed from behind. All in all a fine looking woman, real fine. The tub filled, I turned off the water and Missy undid the loosely knotted sash around her robe. As the robe fell open and she shucked it off both arms at once, there was her neatly trimmed, full vee of a dark bush staring at me or, I guess actually, I was staring at it. She draped her robe across the counter, stepped to the tub – oh what an ass – and leaned over to test the water.

As her tits swung away from her leaned over torso that did it for me – that's always been a turn on, tits swinging away like that. Immediately engorging, my penis went to half mast, standing straight out from my body. Missy stepped into and settled in the tub, laid back, and looked at me and my partial erection with a grin saying, "You can put that away, Jim. I'm not really in the mood tonight."

"No problem," I confirmed. "Would you like me to go start on the BLTs?"

"Yes, do that, but come back up here in about fifteen minutes or so to scrub my back. OK?"

Down in the kitchen I donned a full length apron. It's actually a BBQ apron but being the only apron I could find, I wear it both outside at the grill and in the kitchen when needed, and I definitely need it when I'm tending to bacon on the stove. Bacon into the cold cast iron pan, burner on medium, now let the pan come up to heat bringing the bacon along gently. Melissa likes my cooking, likes the fact that I can prepare just about anything from gourmet dishes when she's entertaining or happens to be in the mood to simpler meals, comfort food, when she prefers that. More often than not she prefers the simpler fare.

—

After that first evening, Melissa called me two days later, around 9:00 AM my cell phone jangled and vibrated on the nightstand. I was lying in bed watching the news before I drug myself up to start the day.

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"Jim? It's Melissa. I just wanted to tell you what a good time I had the other evening. I'd like to see you again. You free anytime soon. Did I wake you?" she rambled.

"No, you didn't wake me. I won't have an evening free until Monday – I don't finish work until around midnight every evening until then," I answered. She knew that, we talked about my job and work hours on Monday evening.

"Oh, that's right. How about a midnight brunch or something like that?" she pressed on.

"That might be fun. What night?" I asked, intrigued by the idea.

"How about tonight? You told me you're a good cook. Would you like to do the honors at my place?" she asked.

"So you invite me to eat and want me to do the work, too?" I chuckled.

"That does sound bad, doesn't it," she answered rather sheepishly.

"No, I'm only kidding. How about if we work together on it? I'll pick up the food this morning and come over to your place but I need directions," I replied.

"How about if I pick you up at the Blue Spruce, midnight? Does that sound OK?" she asked.

"Yeah, that's fine. See you tonight," and I pressed END on the cell phone after I heard the line go dead.

—

Checking my watch, I realized fifteen minutes had gone by, the bacon needed to be flipped over, and I needed get back upstairs to scrub Missy's back for her. I turned the bacon, reduced the heat, hung my apron over the back of a chair, and headed back upstairs. Melissa was laid back in the tub, eyes closed, empty glass on the side of the tub but her eyes popped open when I came into the master bath. "I think I almost dozed off for a moment there," she told me.

"That's a good sign. The soak is doing you good," I answered. I picked up the scrubbing puff we use on her back and as I squirted a fair amount of body wash on it told her, "Sit up. I'll get your back."

She sat up straight then leaned slightly forward. In the deep soaker tub her breasts were floating in the water in front of her, bobbing a bit in the water as it moved around her. I stooped down and scrubbed her back from her shoulders to below the waterline to the small of her back. Sighing as I did she softly said, "Oooh, that feels heavenly. Don't stop." I continued to lightly scrub until long after all the body wash was gone from the puff. "Can you do the rest of me, please?" she asked. Without waiting for an answer she stood up in the tub, water cascading off of her form as she turned to face away from me. I reloaded the puff with body wash and started on her back, giving the part I'd already scrubbed a once over before heading down to her ass. Scrub each round globe then into her crack. She bowed her legs slightly so I could maneuver the puff between them and I let it wander all the way forward where I gave her a nice gentle once over. She arched her back and softly murmured to herself. Down her legs I went, giving each their due. Knowing I was done with her back, she turned to face me. Stooped down as I was, I was eye level with her dark bush, matted down from the water.

I stood up to wash her upper body starting with her shoulders. Down to her breasts I dropped giving each a once over, then a couple more turns on each nipple and three inch areola. Missy lifted both breasts for me to wash underneath them before I continued down to her abdomen. After giving it a scrub I reloaded the puff with body wash and dove into her pubic hair, raising lather peaks in the dark curly bush until all that was visible was white foam. Down between her legs as she bowed them slightly, I spent a lot of time gently, almost softly washing her pussy, letting the puff linger there, caressing her lips. I could see her abdominal muscles tensing and relaxing as the puff moved. On down I went, stooping to do her legs. By now I had a full erection and, as I stooped down, it stood up nearly to my abdomen. "Do you want your hair washed?" I asked.

"Yes, that would be great. She sat down in the water as I opened the drain to let the tub empty. Taking down the hand held shower, I turned on the water and, with it directed away from Missy, adjusted the temperature before turning to her and rinsing her off a bit. Then I wet her hair thoroughly before lathering it well with shampoo. Her eyes closed, head moving slightly under my fingertips, I massaged her scalp just the way I know she likes before rinsing with the warm, flowing water from the shower head. Finished with her hair, I turned off the water, pulled a towel from the rack, and dried her hair some with it before twisting it around her head with her medium length brunette hair wrapped inside. Missy stood up as I pulled a second towel, this one larger, and handed it to her.

"I need to go tend to the bacon," I told her and headed out of the bath. I got back to the professional level gas stove just as the bacon was about ready to be pulled from the pan. I lifted it onto some folded paper towels before turning to the refrigerator to gather up tomatos and lettuce. I could hear the hair dryer, merely a whisper from so far away, running as Missy must be drying her hair.

—

Melissa, true to her word, was waiting in front of the restaurant when I walked out the door at 12:05 AM carrying a couple of plastic grocery bags. Her Lexus was idling, exhaust curling around the side of the car in the cold night air. I heard the door locks pop, opened the back door, placed the groceries on the seat, closed the door, opened the front door and slid into the seat as I closed the door beside me.

Without a word, Melissa smoothly motored out of the parking lot before saying, "Hello. What have you got on the menu, Jim?"

"Eggs benedict, bacon on the side, fresh strawberries with cream. Nothing really special," I told her.

"Sounds wonderful," she told me.

She drove us to one of the better parts of town, not ritzy, but nice homes, two stories, triple garages, nice lawns, that kind of thing. She pulled into the drive – it was concrete from the street to the garage doors, concrete about three lanes wide. From the concrete, a circle of decorative type white stone or gravel looped over in front of the entryway, framed with white columns. We parked on the gravel, I pulled the grocery bags from the back seat and met Missy as she strode toward the front door, key in hand. Door unlocked, we entered, she shut the door behind us then turned to a burglar alarm panel to tap in a code. I saw an LED turn from green to red on the panel as she turned toward me. "The kitchen is this way. Let's put the bags in there then Ill give you the five cent tour," she said. In the kitchen, being a trained chef, I immediately noticed the quality of the gear. Professional gas stove with three ovens, huge built in refrigerator, center island work space with a large rack above holding an assortment of cookware. Very nice. Groceries safely on a kitchen counter, Melissa led me on a tour of the downstairs then upstairs. "This is the master bedroom. It's cozy," she told me as she draped her suit jacket across the back of the desk chair.

"Cozy, my ass," I thought. It was probably half the size of my entire crappy little one bedroom apartment. "Very nice," I said as I turned toward the door and ran right into her. Before I knew it, she had me in an enveloping embrace, lips pressed to mine. Her tongue probed for mine and, throwing all sense of restraint to the wind, I probed back, our tongues dancing together. She was advancing, gently walking me backwards until I felt the bed up against the back of my legs. Letting go of me, she pushed me onto the bed and as I flopped onto my back she literally dove onto the bed, half on me, half next to me. We laid there kissing for a long time, tongues in each other's mouth, her free hand rubbing around in my close cropped hair. I had worked both my hands free, one was under her neck as we kissed and I was gently caressing her back, fingertips wandering lightly up and down. I could feel that the clasp of her bra was probably four inches wide from top to bottom with a bunch of hooks. "Must take a lot to restrain those tits of hers," I thought to myself.

As if she read my mind, she suddenly broke off our mattress level embrace and crawled off the bed to stand up. As she stood up, she was unbuttoning her white blouse. After unzipping her skirt, she let it drop to the floor, shucked her blouse off, and wiggled her slip off over her head. Reaching around back, she undid her bra and let it fall away off both arms. Holy shit, those babies are even bigger than I imagined. She pulled down her panty hose, no panties underneath and leaned over to pull them off her legs one at a time. Leaning over, her tits swung away from her body, then from side to side with the movement of her shoulders. Naked now, she crawled back onto the bed, up against me, and began kissing me again as I felt her hand on my penis through my slacks. "This woman apparently knows what she wants," I thought. She began to undo my belt, snap, and zipper. "And seems to be used to getting it," my thoughts continued. Pants undone, she rose up to her knees to pull them and my boxers off of me. I was unbuttoning my shirt by the time she was done and she helped me get it off before pulling my T-shirt off over my head and arms. Back horizontal, her hot skin against mine, one tit squashed against my side, the other lying on my chest, we began to kiss again, her hand moving between my penis and testicles, caressing while I had my fingertips sliding softly up and down her breast lying on my chest.

—

As I was slicing the tomatos Melissa's voice, calling my name, brought me back to reality so I put down the knife and headed back upstairs.

I found her on her back, lying on the bed, tits splayed out, feet pulled up to raise her spread knees in the air. "Jim, I need your tongue, right now," she told me.

Just hearing those words made me go hard almost instantly. I crawled onto the bed and dove between her legs, mouth seeking her pussy. Finding its target I began to lick her lightly along the length of her lips, each pass probing a little deeper until I was reaching as deeply as I could with my tongue. Deep between her lips I worked my tongue back and forth before heading for her clit. Finding it, I let my tongue circle it repeatedly as Missy began to squirm under my touch. Finally, I laid down on my stomach and chest so my hands would be free to reach up for those tits as I continued to tongue her clit. Around her thighs, I reached for a tit with each hand, finding my targets hanging somewhat off the each side of her chest. As I lifted them and began to gently massage them with my hands I encircled her clit with my lips and began to suck it as I drummed on it with my tongue. Missy began to thrust her hips at my mouth, grinding her pussy into my chin, wet with my saliva and her juices as I continued to suck that clit and play gently with her tits. She began to moan audibly with a gutteral sound that sounded like it emanated from deep within her and was thrusting her hips into my face harder as she began to shake. Her legs on my back, I felt them tighten like she was going to push me into the mattress as her whole body seemed to go stiff for a moment. Then she shook and shivered back down to reality. I had relaxed my clit sucking to more gentle caresses as she worked her way through the orgasm.

Finished, she reached down, grasped either side of my head, and pulled me toward her. I scrambled up her length as she pulled my face to hers and shoved her tongue down my throat for a long kiss. Breaking off, she said, "That was good. I didn't realize how much I needed it till you bathed me. Now your turn." With that she reached down between us as I raised up, grasped my penis, and guided it into her well lubed pussy. I plunged as deeply as I could into her and lowered myself down gently onto her.

"You're not in a hurry, are you?" I asked her softly.

"No, you can go as slow or fast as you'd like to. I'm enjoying myself."

With that, I began to gently thrust in and out using just my hips as we kissed deeply. I wanted it to last as long as I could. With my arms wrapped around her neck I began to roll to one side and we moved as a unit until she was on top of me, straddling my hips, tits hanging down in my face, which is just what I desired. I wanted those beautiful nipples in my mouth. I lifted her right breast to my mouth and gently sucked as much of the areola into my mouth as I could, my tongue dancing on the nipple. Switching to her left breast I did the same. I kept repeating, switching from one breast to the other as Melissa began rocking her hips on me. We spent some time enjoying each other like that until she told me, "Let's turn over. I want you to fuck the hell out of me."

She raised up off of me, I scooted out of the way, and she quickly laid down with her legs up and arms inviting me in. I didn't need any guiding as I moved up her and shoved my wet penis into her now dripping pussy. Supporting myself on my hands and knees, I began to plunge in and out, building up speed and force until the spring of the mattress was in concert with my movement, supplementing it, making it more intense as I hammered her with all my energy. As I swung my hips, plunging into her with jack hammer like strokes she wrapped her legs around the back of my legs and met each of my thrusts with a thrust of her hips. Together we rose toward orgasm, her reaching the top just before me, beginning to shake and loose the rhythm of her thrusting as I felt myself boil over the top. I continued to thrust until the intensity of the orgasm snatched the ability to control my movements away from me, then I simply planted myself as deeply as I could and we rode out the orgasm together. As I felt myself unleash my load deep within her she was trembling her way to the end of her orgasm. Both of us totally spent, I collapsed onto her and kissed her gently. We lay there, hot sweat against hot sweat for several minutes before I rolled off of her, my limp, dripping penis flopping out of her to swing with my testicles as got up. Into the bathroom, a couple of towels from the linen closet, I returned and handed one to her. She stuffed it between her legs and watched me wipe myself off and milk the last of the semen out of my penis. "I think you earned your keep tonight, Jim," she said with a slight smile.

"Are you hungry for those BLTs now?" I asked.

"They sound real good now. Just let me clean up and I'll be right down," she replied. I headed downstairs to finish getting the makings of the BLTs ready. Thinking back to our first night in that bed I remembered that our lovemaking went about as it had been upstairs just a few minutes ago. In fact, for about two weeks the story was the same. Very hot sex followed by exhaustion. After two weeks of that pace, we were both about worn out tired. She was having trouble getting up, going to work. I was having less trouble since I could sleep in later but I was definitely tired all the time but the sex was worth it. I'd never been felt absorbed by a woman in my life. About three weeks later it happened after just such a session.

—

"Jim, I don't think I can keep up this schedule. I'm exhausted all the time now," she told me. "I think it's affecting you, too, isn't it?"

"Yes, but does this mean you're giving me the heave ho?" I asked. Neither of us was really interested in marriage, but the sex was sure good.

"No, no way, Jim," she answered. "How much do you make managing the Blue Spruce," she asked. "If you don't mind me asking, just how much do you make?"

Taken aback, I asked, />
"I'm just curious. Your schedule is so different than mine. I wondered what it was paying you."

"Well, if you really wanna' know, I make $3500 a month. Not enough for what I do but it was the best I could do when I found myself without my restaurant or any other job offers."

She laid there looking at me as I twiddled absentmindedly with one of her nipples. "I'll give you $5000 a month to come to work for me," she said.

"You can do that? You can get your place to hire me? How can you do that? I don't know anything about marketing," I said incredulously.

"Because it IS MY place, Jim. I don't just work there, I own it. I own it all and don't answer to anybody but myself. So if I say you're hired, you're hired. I'll put you on the payroll as Director of Protocol. You can live here and take care of me, plan parties, cook, be my companion. In addition to your salary, you can have a car to drive and everything you really need. I'll even buy your clothes." I was staring at her with a blank expression other than my mouth hanging open. It sounded inviting.

"Just what kind of a boss will you be?" I asked.

"Kind, considerate, thoughtful, but I will expect you to do as you're told."

"So we'll still be lovers?" I asked.

"Yes, I'll be monogamous to you and I'd expect you to do the same for me," she answered. "But I would expect you to take care of my needs."

"Nothing too kinky?" I probed.

"Nothing any kinkier than what we've been doing for last few weeks. I like plain old straight sex, Jim."

"Five thousand bucks, huh? Let me think about it," I told her. In about a minute I answered her, "OK, I thought about it, I'll do it."

—

Melissa walked into the kitchen and, unusual for her, she was still naked. She walked up to me and took me into a tight embrace, tits squeezed between us till they were oozing out on either side. "I really enjoyed tonight," she said softly.

"I did, too. Now, how about those BLTs?" I asked.

—

Now you know the story of how I became Director of Protocol, chief duties of which are to keep my boss happy and satisfied. So I guess you could say I'm a "kept" man. Yes, I am, but I live in a real nice place, drive a nice car, get more sex than I can handle, and all I have to do is keep Missy happy and satisfied. Oh, and I'm banking nearly $3000 a month so if (or when) she tires of me and gives me ther boot, I've got cash. So I think it's a pretty good deal.

Oops, I've got to go. Missy is calling me. I think she's wanting a good tongue lashing tonight.

story by: Hutter James

Tags: fiction consensual sex job/place-of-work female domination authoritarian sex story

Author: Hutter James

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