"I can't appoint you Sales Manager, Sarah. What you know about business wouldn't fit on the head of a pin!"

That was my father talking. He has always had a tendency to grossly underestimate my talents, perhaps because I'm a woman instead of the son he really wanted. I had an MBA, but it might as well have stood for Master of the Bullshit Arts for all the respect it won me from him.

"Now, Dad," I said. "You know that sales have increased 75% since I came on board."

"That's just the upturn in the economy," he grumbled.

"What upturn in the economy?" I inquired sweetly. But I already knew that it wouldn't do any good to appeal to reason. Not with Daddy. Most of his brains are located... well, lets just say a little farther to the south than you'd normally expect to find them.

As he groused and grumbled about women fucking up the family business, I came around his desk and knelt in front of him. I suppose he must have been accustomed to a certain amount of grovelling from his other employees, because he didn't act as if he thought that was strange... at least not until I reached up and started unzipping his fly.

"What the hell are you doing now, Sarah?" he roared.

"The girls in the office have told me that there's only one way to get a promotion in this firm," I said. "You wouldn't want to deny me an equal chance to get ahead, would you, Daddy?"

The small pun was fully intended. I must admit that i'd become quite curious about the cock that several girls had described to me as huge.

Well, they hadn't exaggerated. I smacked my lips and drooled to wet the purple plumpness of my father's vastly oversized fuck tool.

"Whoa! You sure pack quite a magic wand, Dad," I said. "I'm not sure I'll be able to swallow the whole thing. But you can rest assured that I'll give the problem my best effort"

"Sarah!", he gasped, staring down at me with a look of utter surprise on his face.

The fatherly part of him firmly wished to forbid me to do what I about to do... the male part just as firmly burned for the dripping warmth of my eager tongue. I didn't try to argue with him. Instead I swished my tongue lovingly around my Daddy's humongous fuckstick while he wrestled with his conscience.

I wasn't too concerned about the outcome. Like any good businessman, Dad would let immediate results override a guilty conscience any day of the corporate week.

Sure enough, he abruptly slumped back into his padded leather chair and let me have a go at it. I sucked and slurped, thoroughly enjoying the flavor. Thick strings of my own saliva dribbled from my mouth, but I didn't try to wipe them away. I knew from my extensive cocksucking experience with my college professors that older men really get excited by such evidence of a woman's pleasure.