Date: Thu, 24 Sep 2009 22:19:43 -0400
From: Henley Fletcher <writtenforsubmission@gmail.com>
Subject: TG ARCHIVE; 'Secretaries are supposed to be sluts' {Henley Fletcher}  {F^M reluc} [1 ! 3+]

This story is a work of fiction.  Any resemblance to actual people, places,
or organizations is purely coincidental.  Author takes no responsibility in
damage to your home, computer, or relationship based on your actions during
or after reading this story.  No animals were harmed during the writing of
this story.  Feedback will be accepted at the address above.  Above all,
thank you and enjoy!

1) Dinner at Riverside

       All the note said was "Dinner.  8:00.  Riverside Grill."  It was in
my secretary's handwriting but I knew it must be a message from Carrie.
Andrea, that's my secretary, always hated taking messages from Carrie and
would only write down the most important parts.  Riverside was our old
hangout where we would drink our weekends away.  It was a quarter to six now
and by the time I got my jog in and showered, I could make it to Riverside
by 7:30.

   I paged Andrea in and asked her to clarify the message.   It was a shame
that she and Carrie couldn't get along but, given the circumstances, I
understood.  She hit the lights in the main lobby now that everyone was gone
and came into my office.  She sat her firm little butt on the corner of my
desk and I rubbed her leg as she told me that Carrie had some big news for
me and thought that Riverside would be perfect to tell me but that she
wasn't supposed to tell me that.  Andrea leaned in to me as I pushed my hand
further up her skirt.

   "Are those the panties I bought you?" I asked, feeling the edge of the
lace that stood between my fingers and her supple pussy.

   "Mmmhmmm" she said, proud to be showing them off.  She swung her leg
around my desk and moved her butt onto my crotch.

   "Would you like to see them better?" she asked, pushing her skirt up to
her navel as she leaned in and kissed my neck.

   I didn't get a very clear look at her lacy little butt as I was
unbuttoning her blouse and unclasping her bra.  She wrestled with my belt
buckle but it wasn't too difficult to get clothes off of my 140lb frame.
She arched her back and placed a breast in front of my face, grinding on my
crotch as I squeezed her little bottom.

   "Hey!  Let's do it in the conference room!" She squealed.

   The conference room had twelve foot floor to ceiling windows facing onto
Berker Street but I agreed anyway.  Fucking Andrea was a privilege for any
man and if she wanted to do it in the conference room, then we'll do it in
the conference room.

   She hopped off my lap and pranced out of my office leaving her skirt and
shoes on the floor.  I watched for a moment as her flawless body pranced
past the windows of my office.  I assumed this meant I was supposed to
follow and I quickly made my way toward the conference room leaving a trail
of clothes behind me.  When I got to the conference room, Andrea had pulled
out a chair for herself and was naked and waiting.

   "Wet me up first?" she asked.  I could tell from the shimmer between her
lips that she was plenty wet already but I dropped to my knees and went
immediately for her clit with my tongue.  Andrea's juices were starting to
pool on the leather chair and I was as hard as a rock.  She grabbed my head
and forced it deeper into her dripping pussy.  She arched her back as she
flooded my face with the juices of her orgasm and she stood up forcing my
head back and my tongue deeper inside her.  She pushed herself down,
knocking me backwards.  Lying on the floor of the conference room for all
the commuters to see, Andrea grabbed my cock and slid it inside herself as
she lowered her body onto mine.

   My god, Carrie could never do it like this.  Andrea rode me and pushed
her sweet little cunt onto my cock like she was trying to kill it.  She
grabbed my hair and pulled my head toward her as she fell on her back,
flipping me on top of her.  I can't believe we pulled off a maneuver like
that while I stayed inside her but that was her signal that it was my turn
to get off.  She wrapped her legs around my waist and, with her being 5'10"
and my being 5'6", her breasts lined up perfectly with my face.  I pounded
away at her perfect little pussy all the while watching her D-cup breasts
pull against her skin as they bounced to the rhythm of our bodies.  She
continued to pull my hair, screaming and writhing as we both achieved
orgasm.

   Well, now that my jog was done, it was time to hit the shower.

    "You want to join me?" I asked, pulling out of her pussy as it started
to ooze my cum onto the conference room floor.

   "Of course!" she replied, rolling over onto her side, gazing at me with a
look that I never saw from Carrie anymore.

   We collected our clothes and went to the shower in the warehouse.  The
shower was only there in case one of the workers accidentally coated
themselves in some horrific chemical.  OSHA standards.  But, after hours, it
worked quite well for cleaning up before I went home.

   "Are you going to leave Carrie, yet?" Andrea asked as I was lathering up
to rid myself of her smell.  Not that I wanted to.

   "You know I can't, baby.  She owns half of this." I said, gesturing to
our warehouse full of boxes waiting to be shipped to destinations unknown.

   "I know, but you could divorce her for... something.  I don't know.  Tell
her you're sick of trying to have kids with her."

   "But that still leaves us without anything.  Do you think that I could
divorce her without her starting to take an interest in what goes on around
here?  She'll fire you the minute she finds out how much I pay you and
she'll hire a temp to answer the phones.  That's if she even gives me that!"

   Andrea had been bugging me to divorce Carrie for a year now.  Almost
since the time we started sleeping together.  We redressed ourselves and I
kissed her goodnight as we headed out to the parking lot, her Audi and my
Mercedes the only cars left in the lot.

   As I eased my Mercedes convertible out onto Berker, I turned my thoughts
to Carrie.  I wondered what her big news was.  Maybe she was finally
pregnant.  We'd been trying for six years now.  She had visited specialists
and timed our sex down to the minute she thought she dropped an egg.  It was
rather annoying, really.

   I pulled into Riverside Grill at a quarter to eight.  I didn't see
Carrie's car in the lot so I went inside and got us a table near the windows
overlooking the river.  Carrie walked in as soon as I'd ordered us a bottle
of wine and lit a cigarette.

   "Hey, baby!" I said, standing up to give her a hug and pull out her
chair.

   "I know everything.  Sit down." she said cold and quietly into my ear as
I froze in our embrace.

   So that was her big news?  I sat back down and took a long draw on my
cigarette while she pulled out her own chair and sat down.  She gave me the
iciest stare I think a man could handle.  Like an interrogator waiting for
the right moment to begin.  I was afraid my cigarette would extinguish
itself from the chill directed our way.

   "Tonight's jog was your last." She said.  It was apparent that when she
said she knew everything that there was a pretty good chance that she did
know everything.

   "I picked Riverside because we both know a lot of people here and your
job is to look like you're enjoying yourself.  I'm not asking for a
divorce.   Not yet.  But there are going to be some changes.  A lot of
changes.  You work for me now.  You can tell your twit of a secretary to
start looking for a new job.  No...  I'll do that.  You get her desk, I get
yours.  I've let you run this business for five years and now it's my
turn."  She said in a way that made my suspect that it was rehearsed.

   "I have receipts, Tim.  I have receipts for Victoria's Secret, plastic
surgery, a fucking Audi!"  She said, trying to keep her voice quiet while
she made clear how much she knew.  "I drive an Accord and you bought your
fucking secretary fuck toy an Audi?  Fertility treatment is too expensive
but you can buy new tits for your side dish slut?"

   I tried not to smile as I mulled over Carrie calling Andrea a "side
dish".  Andrea was an entree of epic proportions.  If Andrea was a juicy
bloody rare sirloin, Carrie was probably something like cold peas.

   "And I swear to God, Tim, if you got her pregnant I'm going to slice off
your fucking balls.  We've been trying for six years.  Six years!  I count
the days until I'm fertile and you can't even..."  She trailed off, sitting
back in her chair and reaching for my pack of cigarettes as our waitress
brought us our bottle of Cabernet.  Carrie had quit five years ago when we
were scraping money together to start Plastech.  Under the circumstances, I
could understand the need for a little nicotine.

   "So here's the deal," She said, lighting her first cigarette in half a
decade.  "What you have is mine now.  Your Mercedes is mine, your office is
mine, your freedom, and most importantly," she leaned across the table,
smoke easing from the corners of her lips, "your ass is mine.  You get to be
my secretary now.  You know I don't know the first thing about high-impact
plastics, so I can't get rid of you.  But, I can sit you right outside my
office so I can watch every fucking move you make."

   Well, this could have gone worse, I thought to myself.  She wasn't trying
to dump me onto the streets with no house, no money, etc.

   "Give me your keys." She said, tossing the keys to her Honda on the
table.  I reached into my coat pocket and felt the key to my baby - my
Mercedes SL500.  I dropped them into her hand and she paged through the keys
on my ring.  "What's what here?" She asked.

   I told her which key was my office, which one was for the front door, the
master key to the warehouse and the maintenance rooms and which one was our
house.  I think I may have put a little emphasis on "our" and I hoped that
didn't remind her that there was still something else she could take away.

   "Oh, and give me your phone.  I need your sales contacts." She said.  I
pulled my Blackberry out of my jacket and set it on the table between us.
Thankfully, I thought, my Blackberry was all sales contacts and employee
information.

   I slept in the spare bedroom that night even though Carrie never came
home.  I got up a little late and took a shower.  For the first time, I
wasn't looking forward to going to work.

   When I pulled into the Plastech parking lot at 10:30, my Mercedes was
sitting in my reserved spot.  I'm sorry, Carrie's Mercedes was sitting in
her reserved spot.  No black Audi to be seen.  I wondered how it went down
this morning when Andrea showed up for work.  I was glad I wasn't there to
find out.

   I entered through the main lobby and found my new desk covered in boxes
of things from my office.  Carrie was sitting at what used to be my desk, on
the phone with someone and she glanced at me through the windows that
separated her office from my new home in Reception.  She signaled me into
her office and I pulled up a chair as she finished her conversation.

   "No, I'd really just like to touch base with everyone.  I may organize a
manager's meeting but I'd really like to sit down with each of you.  No,
thank you!" She hung up her phone.  It was evident that she was taking her
new position seriously.  "Alright, Tim," she said, directing her attention
at me. "If you didn't hear that, I'm going to be sitting down with each of
the managers and getting a little run-down of what goes on here.  Go set up
your desk and then make me an organizational chart so I know who does what
around here."

   For the rest of the day I complied with Carrie's request to send in
manager after manager and even her request for a chicken salad sub from
Gordie's Deli.  Gary the sales manager, Phillip the production manager, Alan
the shipping guy...  She'd just about made her way through the entire
organization by 5:00.  The only one left was Jeremy the warehouse
supervisor.  I paged him in at just before five o clock when his worker bees
were all leaving for the day.  As soon as he entered Carrie's office, he
dropped the blinds and within minutes I could hear the familiar sound of the
big wooden desk trying to scoot across the tile floor.  The sounds of flesh
on flesh, Carrie's screams of ecstasy, and knowing she was obviously
enjoying being railed by another man were too much for me to bear and I
grabbed the keys to the Honda and made my way out the door.

   "She was going to watch every move I made?" I asked myself as I sat
waiting for a break in traffic to let me get away from this god-awful
building.  It was starting to sound like she was going to make me watch
every move she made as she slowly brought down my life.  Why did I care so
much that Carrie was fucking Jeremy on the desk that I'd fucked Andrea on?
Turn-about's fair play, I suppose, but revenge is a mother fucker.

   I thought that maybe I'd found the first thing that scotch couldn't cure
but that wasn't going to stop me from trying.  It was a crisp night but I
sat at the patio table with an ashtray and a rocks glass with more than
enough cigarettes and scotch to fill both plenty of times over.  Did it
bother me because Jeremy was everything I wasn't?  At 27, he was six years
younger than Carrie and I.  He'd worked in the warehouse since we'd started
the company and his body showed it.  He was young, in shape, and I'm sure
possessed a virility and stamina necessary for moving crates and boxes eight
hours a day.  Was it because I feared that he could give her something I
couldn't?  I knew that it was my fault we couldn't conceive.  Was I that
scared that Carrie would find me too worthless to keep around?  Was all this
"I'm your boss, you're my secretary" stuff just a way of transitioning
herself into a stable position in the company so she could reduce her need
for me there, too?  I was starting to make myself sick and I was hesitant to
blame the scotch.  It was far too easy to blame Carrie.

   Fuck the guest room.  It was eleven o'clock and Carrie still wasn't home
so if she wasn't going to use the master bedroom, I was.  I undressed and
sprawled out, taking up as much of our king sized mattress as I could.
Maybe there could be something positive here.  I let myself succumb to the
effects of the scotch and faded out.

   The sounds of Jeremy fucking my wife filled my dreams and, even in an
alcohol fueled stupor that should have had me comatose until the morning, I
slept awfully.  In my dreams I could feel the bed moving and Carrie
screaming as Jeremy filled her with his cock.  I awoke with a start to find
that it wasn't a dream at all.  There she was, bent over on the bed, her
face just inches from mine as Jeremy fucked her from behind.

   "Oh, he's awake!" She said, taking a quick break from gasping for
breath.  I tried to roll away and jump out of the bed, overwhelmed with what
seemed like an alternate reality but my legs wouldn't move.  Before I knew
what was going on, Jeremy grabbed whatever was binding my hands together
behind my back and brought me into a sitting position.  He knelt on the bed
in front of me, his enormous cock dripping with Carrie's juices.

   "Well?  Aren't you going to suck it?" Carrie asked.  What?!?  Was this
real?   "I thought secretaries were supposed to suck cock." She said, as if
she was questioning my purpose in life.

   Jeremy grabbed the back of my head and pressed my face toward his
glistening erection.  "At least it would taste like Carrie, right?"  I told
myself.  He pressed his cock up to my mouth and pushed it through my
tightened lips.  My god, he was hard.  I don't think I could have pushed my
cock through a bowl of Jell-o like the way he pushed his past my lips and
into the back of my throat.  I felt myself gagging as he held it there for a
second, then backed out and began ramming it in and out of my mouth.

   Everything still seemed surreal.  Carrie was lying on her back rubbing
her pussy as she watched Jeremy fuck my face.  I was bound at the hands and
feet, gagged by what must have been a 10" cock that seemed to want nothing
more than to lodge itself in my throat.  Yesterday, I was fucking a freaky
little twenty-five year old with brand new D-cups and now I was tied up in
my own bed watching my wife get off on watching another guy's balls slap
against my chin as he forced my mouth up and down on his raging cock.

   "You want me to cum in his face, Car?" He asked.

   "Sure, but make sure he swallows all of it!" she said.

   Jeremy continued to ram his cock down my throat until I felt it swelling
and pulsing.  I knew his orgasm was coming soon and I braced myself for my
first encounter with another man's seed.  No amount of bracing could have
prepared me for what happened as he let loose stream after stream of hot cum
into my throat.  I fought off gagging and had no other choice than to
swallow it.  One, two, three gulps of Jeremy's cum and my mouth was finally
left vacant save the lingering taste of his semen.

   "Now get out of my fucking bed!" Carrie yelled.

   Jeremy let loose the clasps that held my extremities and I fell out of
the bed.  I scrambled to my feet and made my way quickly downstairs.  All my
clothes were in the master suite, so I couldn't go smoke.  I poured myself
another scotch to calm me down and cut the taste of Jeremy's cum from my
mouth.

   I went to the guest bedroom, or, I suppose, my bedroom and found a little
pink box about 12" cubed sitting in the middle of my bed.  To my sexy little
secretary, the note said.  I opened the box to find a black pair of
Victoria's Secret panties with white lace and a card.

    You're my secretary now so I want you to look like one.  Wear these
tomorrow.  The rest of your clothes are in the closet.   -Carrie

   Well, at least she was nice enough to move my things before evicting me
from our bedroom.  I locked the door this time before I let the scotch take
me back to none-of-this-ever-happened-land.