Working For Mr. Goodsmith

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The secretary led her into the room and sat her upon the couch.

“When Mr. Goodsmith comes in, you’re to do whatever he tells you, no exceptions. The reason you’re here is for his pleasure,” Mr. Goodsmith’s personal assistant paused and looked at Ashlyn. “If he’s unsatisfied you’re out of a job.”

She looked sheepishly up at the older woman, her lower lip quivering slightly the way a person’s does when they meet their personal idol. This woman had the life Ashlyn wanted: successful, independent, and young enough to still be a fox! She must be almost forty but her breasts were still firm under her button-up shirt and her tight black skirt hugged two supple, bountiful ass cheeks. Her brunette hair was pulled back and her glasses her thin-rimmed.

Ashlyn on the other hand was shorter, younger, more inexperienced and more abundant in her proportions. Where as Mr. Goodsmith’s personal assistant had breasts delicately carved from the bounty of her bosom, like two ripening grapefruits nestled against each other, Alshyn’s breasts were less graceful, two large handfuls of tits added like an afterthought to her figure. Her biggest asset in her own mind was her bottom, of which she took pride in showing off with by bending over often while wearing mini skirts and letting men get a good look. Its shape was taught and more proportionate to her body type than her large tits.

“If you have any questions, now is the best time to ask them. He’ll be here momentarily.”

“How old is he?”

“Mr. Goodsmith prefers to let personal details like that remain unknown. He’s probably around forty-five, if you must know.”

“Is he handsome?”

The secretary smirked at this, “From one working woman to another, you’re in for a treat. Mr. Goodsmith is one of the main perks of working for Mr. Goodsmith.”

With that, she tidied the mohogeny desk in the center of the room and then left, closing the office doors behind her with a soft hush. Ashlyn was left alone in the room, her anticipation and excitement making her toes flex and her knees bounce.

She thought of the first time she was with an older man, about his intimate working knowledge of female anatomy, and how to do just what she wanted him to without her having to ask. He was gentle and patient, diligent and persistent. She had never climaxed so hard as she had that night with him, their lovemaking went long into the morning. She kızılay escort was done with boys after that.

The door opened in the midst of her daydream and Mr. Goodsmith walked into the room with purpose and poise. He was distinguished: tall, lean, and graying slightly at the temples. He paused for a moment in front of Ashlyn, his eyes devouring her modest curves and pale skin. Hers did the same, tracing the outline of his cream-colored suit and stopping suddenly when they locked with his, both of their sexual energies emitting sparks as they eyed each other hungrily.

“You’re the new girl?”

“Yes Mr. Goldsmith.”

“What’s your name?”

“Ashlyn LaRouche”

“Interesting. French?”

“Yes, Mr. Goldsmith.”

“I suppose Miss Clement filled you in on your…position in this company.”

“Yes, Mr. Goodsmith. I’m your personal fuck toy.”

He smiled wryly. “I appreciate your enthusiasm, but I dislike vulgarity. Unless I instruct you do to so, you will not use such language unless you wish to be appropriately punished for it.”

“And what if I want to be punished?” She uncrossed her legs and hitched up her skirt, her soft flanks in stark contrast to the dark fabric of the couch. She caught his eyes lingering on the shadows between her legs.

“Come here, Miss LaRouche. Stand before me.”

She did as she was instructed, standing so close in front of him that she could smell his masculine scent.

“I’m afraid we won’t have much time to get acquanted. I’m in a hurry today”

“Yes, Mr. Goodsmith.”

“Take off your blouse. Do it slowly.”

“Yes, Mr. Goodsmith.”

She unbottoned each button with diligence and patience, she would rather have just ripped her shirt off and pounced on top of the man. His concentration was supreme, to be able to handle all the sexual tension she was exuding. As each button was undone, more and more of her pink skin was revealed to him: the soft cleft between her tits, the opulent roundness of the top of her breasts, her thin, delicate collarbone. Finally her chest, bound tightly by a lacy red bra, was exposed to the cool air of the office. Her nipples hardened against the fabric of the bra like two red cherries floating on top of two pools of lava.

“Take off the bra. Do it slowly.”

“Yes, Mr. Goodsmith.”

She reached behind her back and with two hands unhooked her kolej escort bra strap. Her tits heaved and fell forward, their girth released from restraint. She slid the bra down her arm, squeezing her pouting breasts together with her elbows as she did it.

His gaze was filled with the immensity of her tits. He cupped each breast, squeezing and lifting them in turn, pinching and puling her hard nipples as she whimpered and purred.

“Bounce for me.”

She put her arms by her sides and arched her back. Bouncing on the balls of her feet, she went up in down, her tits suspending and falling and colliding and rising in repetition. She could tell that Mr. Goodsmith was starting to get hard. The thought of it made her wet her lips unconsciously.

“I’m going to get straight to the point. I want you to put me in your mouth until I come. I want to ejaculate on your breasts. Does that sound acceptable?”

“Oh yes, Mr. Goodsmith.”

She got straight to the point as well, dropping to her knees again in front of him and pulling his pants down, not bothering with the button and zipper. His penis flopped against his thigh once and she wrapped her lips around it before it was fully erect. She sucked his cock from tip to shaft, slowly drawing the fullness of it into her mouth. Her tongue worked along the underside of his shaft, stroking it up and down firmly. Her head bobbed in his lap, her hot, wet mouth tightly consuming his cock. Mr. Goodsmith let out a moan and settled back onto his heels, his fingers running through her thick blond hair, pulling her towards him, pushing himself further into her, twisting her hair slowly until she whimpered with pain and delight. His slick wet dick slid against her lips and tongue as she sucked him off. She even let the very edge of her front teeth scrape softly against his cock, an added sensation that caused him to tilt his head back and tighten his grip.

As she slurped up and down, she slid her left hand under her skirt and over her panties, rubbing her pussy lips through the thin cotton fabric. She slipped her fingers under the strap and felt her wetness against her fingertips. She began masturbating herself as she sucked off Mr. Goodsmith.

He began to writhe rhythmically as he stood, his cock sliding further and further towards the back of her mouth. She in turn began bouncing and grinding her hand, sex-charged ankara escort volts running up her body. Her breasts quivered and her hot pussy dampened and her clit grew harder. They were both moaning, him succumbing to her raw oral talents, her succumbing to the unleashed passions of supreme ecstacy.

“I’m going to come!”

“Mm-Hmm!”

She pulled his cock out of her mouth with a gasp and using her right hand jerked him off. Her tongue flicked against the head of his penis and she moaned with pleasure. He grabbed her hair and pulled her head back, her tits thrust forward, trembling with anticipation. Her hands worked furiously, one circling her clit, driving her into a mind numbing orgasm; the other pumping his saliva-slicked cock until he spasmed and hot jets of come burst forth and bombarded her thighs, stomach,tits, neck, chin and finally mouth as she pulled him back into it and coddled his penis during its final convulsions. It stayed hard as she licked the residue off of it and rubbed the running come up her stomach and over her breasts, her nipples popping out from under her hands. She slipped her fingers back between her pussy lips and slid them into herself slowly while licking the semen off her fingers. Mr. Goodsmith pulled his pants up and buttoned them, pausing momentarily for Ashlyn to place a loving kiss on the head of his penis.

“You seem very capable of your job, Miss LaRouche. I’m thoroughly impressed.”

“Thank you, Mr. Goodsmith.”

“If your output is as…masterly as it was today, you can surely expect great things from my organization.”

“I’m more interested in your organ, Mr. Goodsmith.”

He laughed, “I see you are very driven in your career choice, Miss LaRouche. Keep it up, and we’ll see if we have a permanent place for you here. You should know, that’s the same way Miss Clement secured her position as my personal assistant: with similar dedication as you are showing now.”

“We don’t have the time to show you how dedicated I can be today, you’re in a hurry.”

“Hmm. Absolutely right, Miss LaRouche. How about you demonstrate your dedication for me tonight? I’ll be returning to my penthouse from work around eight. I’ll have Miss Clement arrange you a ride there. Are you opposed to sleeping over?”

“Mr. Goodsmith,” Ashlyn was still slowly fingering herself, “we both know there won’t be any sleeping.”

“Hm. Good girl. Now get dressed and run along, I’ve got work to do.”

“Yes, Mr. Goodsmith.” As she put her bra and blouse back on, she was amazed at her own juices running slowly down the inside of her thigh. She gathered her purse and left the room as Mr. Goodsmith reclined behind his immense desk.

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