Chapter 5

For her first week of work, Monica was requested to show up every day, Greg thinking that it would be worth the time and money to get her up to speed as quickly as possible. She drove herself for two of the days, but then Cole offered her a ride in his truck, saying he had things to do at the plant and didn’t mind fitting his other work around her schedule. Of course, each day he drove Monica in to work, Cole also stuck his head into her office before three and requested that she accompany him home. She didn’t want to jeopardize her position, but Greg seemed completely fine with her leaving early, saying that she was still just in training.

Once back home Cole used his extra time with Monica to show her how much he needed her, and by the time she walked through her own doorway at 5, just minutes before Jim would return home, she was ready for bed and a long night’s sleep. Jim didn’t seem to mind, simple to cook meals that were heavy on the meat met most of his needs. That and cable seemed to keep him content while Monica rested in a tub of bubble-bath, a play-by-play review of Cole’s daily demands making her smile with a contentment of her own.

Apart from Cole’s very welcome lust for her body, Monica found herself happy with her new responsibilities at work, particularly when it provided such excellent pay. It actually felt rewarding to get away from being a housewife and have real job duties, get to know new people around the warehouse and factory, and she of course enjoyed becoming acquainted with her boss.

Greg was interesting and Monica quickly learned that he had two sides. One was the stern boss, very much a businessman focused on the task at hand, not so much overbearing as simply expecting all workers to know their roles and responsibilities. Then there was the relaxed Greg, still wearing a suit but open to taking unscheduled breaks in the middle of work, open to new foods though not modern music, and with what seemed to be an addiction to the gossip columns of the New York Times. He had personal space issues, obviously seeing himself as a ladies man, but Monica figured she could handle any of his flirtations. Men were men.

Then there was Cole. Here too Monica was able find happiness. It required that she keep all thoughts of Jim sequestered in a separate part of her mind, but over the summer Cole had become her very special Mister, her own ocean of male lust she found herself happily drowning in a few times every week. Beyond the bedroom, Monica enjoyed having additional time to talk with Cole about life and the everyday things that friends bond over. Cole had gone beyond a simple need for sex and was becoming a real lover attached to her heart.

It seemed that Monica’s world had expanded in size, double what it had encompassed just six months before. With Cole her secret lover and now with a new job and work mentor, Monica seemed to have become a different person. Jim had gone from the center of her universe to a mere extra, a nice person to come home to with only occasional conjugal rights. It seemed that all Jim could see was the money that would come in, ignoring all the other worldly experiences that were changing her, and Monica didn’t mind his narrow blinded view at all.

At the end of that first week, Greg truly crossed the line, going from slight verbal flirtations and the occasional touch of Monica’s side or leg to physically touching if not groping other parts of her body, particularly her leg and ass. On that first Friday, Greg had insisted on buying Monica lunch, driving out to a local restaurant and then relaxing for an hour while Greg tried to charm Monica over good food and a couple of cocktails. It was a wonderful professional thing to do, but the lunch was somewhat marred by Greg putting his arm around Monica’s waist as they walked outside to his car. That was fine. It was inappropriate but probably meant nothing.

On the drive back Greg moved his hand over to Monica’s leg, giving her knee a squeeze, rubbing her leg up and back a few times, his fingers quickly making up to and beyond the edge of her short dress. He tried to be charming, speaking softly of how beautiful he thought she was, but Monica blushed with the feel of his fingers dancing across the front edge of her panties. Giving thanks to herself for not wearing anything more daring than a standard pair of briefs, Monica kept herself under control and smiled but she also pushed his hand to the side, voicing a simple “C’mon Greg” but with no feeling of anger. Greg left his hand on her knee but went no further up her thigh and Monica accepted the middle ground she realized she’d have to accept.

It was something other friends had complained of in their own workplace, mostly from male bosses, but Monica didn’t think it was enough to file a complaint about. Who would she have even gone to? His yet to be seen mother? Everything being considered, given her need for the job and Greg’s overwhelming and gregarious nature, Monica thought his moves harmless and didn’t even bring it up with Cole when he pulled her away from the office just after two.

Late summer quickly turned to fall, and as the weather changed, so too did Monica’s life. Into her second week and she had become used to her work, though she had now been cut back to what was supposed to be part-time. On Monday she was allowed to leave early when Cole yet again requested more of her time in his bedroom, but on Wednesday she was kept late to finish a report for Greg. Jim didn’t mind, a phone call and take-out and cable shows making him a happy man.

Jim should have been worried. That same Wednesday morning Greg had again asked Monica to do a twirl for him in the front office, and then with a straight face asked her to remove her bra.

“Monica. The bra rides up just over the top edge of your dress. It really is an ugly touch to such a beautiful form. Here, let me help you.” Monica was frozen in place as Greg stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her. He pulled her into an embrace as his fingers un-zipped the back of her dress and began to peel the front of her dress down over her breasts. Monica was flabbergasted, her face burning hot, but she finally found her voice. She couldn’t find it in herself to tell her boss to go jump off a bridge, but she met him in the middle, saying “No. Wait. Um, Greg, let me turn around. Let me do it.”

There in front of a man she had known less than two weeks, Monica turned and undid her bra from the front. Her breasts were large but firm, easily fighting off gravity and able to support themselves. Bras were used by Monica mostly out of social convention and to keep her nipples from showing. This one had no shoulder straps, a bit uncomfortable but easy to remove. Yet as she pulled apart the cups, Greg was there behind her, taking the lacy accessory from her hands.

She could feel his eyes looking down, easily taking in the feminine mounds and large stiff nipples all men seemed to lose themselves over. Monica could feel his eyes looking over her back, and just to be spiteful she arranged her twin sisters, giving them a quick massage in their rare chance at freedom, then taking her time readjusting her dress to cover them again. There remained a deep valley between her breasts, and much of their upper portion remained for him to view, but Monica was smug in the thought that Greg would be able to see but not touch. She even told him to zip her back up, giving the man an order he probably wanted to disobey.

For the rest of the afternoon and into the early evening Greg was often at her side, one of his hands always maintaining some kind of physical connection between them. Monica was able to brush off his inappropriate touches until about 6. Greg had suggested they go out for some food before returning to finish up the project. Monica would have considered this, but Greg let his real intent to show when he pulled her in close, slipped one hand down well beyond her waist and gave her ass a firm and appreciative squeeze.

Her mouth dropped open in shock, but Greg just bent his head down to give Monica a kiss on her cheek while saying, “You are such a beautiful woman Monica.” Monica didn’t take any time to think. She somehow removed his hand and returned to her desk, but as she sat down she also found it difficult to breathe. She knew that she either needed to run home and never look back or throw herself onto his office couch and tell Greg to take her. The fact that there was that possible second option hiding deep in her mind shocked Monica as much as her boss’s unacceptable act. Monica chose to follow the easiest route by pretending to ignore Greg’s actions, gathering her purse and walking out the door while throwing out a quick, “See you Friday.”

Then Friday came. Anyone else could have seen it if they had known, but Monica told nobody, not even Cole and certainly not Jim, and so Monica just conveniently ignored all of the warning signs. On this day, the end of just her second week of work, Greg had again taken her out to lunch. It was simple and with a single glass of wine, but then on to a dress shop in the middle of town that Monica hadn’t even known about. Greg had already pre-ordered a dress for Monica, and upon walking into the shop he requested Monica try it on.

A very flustered Monica initially balked. “Greg, this isn’t right. I’m just your assistant. You shouldn’t be buying me clothes. And this dress is, well, so nice. It must have cost a lot.”

“Yes, but that’s what money is for, isn’t it? I’m tired of your always wanting to wear slacks or some simple skirt and sweater. Your dress the other day was perfect, but now you wear these cheap slacks. Come on now. The dress will look nice on you.”

Greg had brought this up before, telling Monica that he preferred her to wear dresses to work and her arguing back that with the colder weather slacks and a coat were preferred, particularly when their offices were kept cool with an all too efficient AC.

“Hey, I can wear dresses to work, but this is, well, over the top. It looks like something I’d go to a party in.” As Monica held it up she could admire the cut and shape, the silk, the embroidered edges, the color. It was beautiful, perhaps nicer than anything Monica had ever owned, but Greg continued to insist and pushed her toward the dressing room.

As Monica had feared, the dress fit perfectly and looked good on her. It was a pale blue with minimal shoulder straps, the hem hanging just above her knees and the top cutting down to form an indecent V to show a good amount of her cleavage. Obviously not a dress you wear with a bra. Greg was ecstatic at how well she looked in it. Monica pushed back, but again Greg insisted. “At least let me see you wear it this afternoon in the office. I’ll turn up the heat. You can wear your work clothes home if you like.”

Again, Monica shrugged and followed Greg’s preference, simply telling herself that the short sleeves and trim skirt wouldn’t interfere with her work at the desk. With her smile of agreement Greg beamed and led her outside, thanking her for allowing him to spoil her. On the drive back to work Greg followed past form by putting a hand out to rest on Monica’s knee, something she had gotten used to whenever they sat next to each other, though this time she put her own hand on his, making sure he didn’t try to move it up any further.

It wasn’t until they were pulling into a long driveway that Monica realized they had driven off the familiar highway to work. Before them was a very nice house, surrounded by what looked to be an almond orchard. Greg explained that this was where he lived, joking that he “slept here almost as often as at work.” It seemed that he had some files to pick up, some things that were better done in the office, and he invited Monica in to relax while he rummaged around for the needed paperwork.

Monica was pleased to see that the front rooms were decorated and furnished in a simple manner, not too garish or ornate, form and function working together to make a visitor feel comfortable and relaxed. Within a minute Greg had poured out a glass of wine for Monica, telling her to sit while he did some work in his home office. That sounded reasonable, but in two minutes he was back with a bottle of wine and a glass of his own, his coat and tie gone. The wine was good and Monica without any sense of impending danger or urgency. Greg led the conversation, helping Monica to feel at home as he explained how his business venture owned the house and land but leased the orchard to someone who did all the work.

It wasn’t until the second glass of wine that Monica realized it was almost two in the afternoon and that she was a little tipsy. Greg was there sitting at her side on the small couch, knees touching, his hand on her knee, and his words specifically being about her beauty and how happy her presence at work made him. Monica had a sudden flashback, of what she and Cole had done just six months before. No doubt Greg was hoping for the same thing, for the same gratifying result. Monica spoke of getting back to work and tried to stand up but Greg put a hand on her shoulder and his face was suddenly in front of hers, kissing her, imploring her to sit and stay with him, and then kissing her again.

Monica didn’t comply so much as simply not do anything, freezing in place, her hands in her lap, sitting up in the edge of the couch, aware of all Greg was doing to her but unable to act, to either participate or fight. Greg continued kissing Monica, soft kisses to her lips and cheek and neck, one hand moving up her legs, another placed very firmly on her shoulder. His voice was soft and silky as he spoke of her aloof beauty, soft skin, and intoxicating scent, yet each mention of Monica’s beauty was followed with a firm insistence that she relax with him for a while.

As Greg acted, Monica’s mind was filled with a thousand competing thoughts, all of them getting in the way of any action of her own. She needed the job. Greg was kind of a romantic and unable to hurt her. What would Cole think? June would laugh and call her a slut. Jim would blame her, but mostly want to know where else their second paycheck would be coming from. A thousand thoughts, all competing for space in her woozy head and preventing her from doing anything but nothing.

Monica had hoped that Greg would flirt and touch but would then back off, as he had done many times before in the office, overstepping professional boundaries but then returning to his work with little said of his improprieties. Not this time. In an instant Greg was suddenly sitting behind Monica, his legs wide and circling her own, his hands now coming from behind and massaging her breasts. Greg’s hands and fingers suddenly felt very different, and with a glance down Monica was shocked to see that the top portion of the new dress she was wearing had been folded down, the shoulder straps pushed off, her breasts now open to his view and firm loving touch. For a long minute Monica sat there, stuttering out that they shouldn’t be doing this, and Greg’s only reply came out as more of a demand. “Monica. I can’t imagine doing anything else. You’re all I’ve wanted since the first day I saw you and I can’t see myself stopping now. Relax.”

Monica finally realized the jeopardy she was in, knowing she needed to do something to keep this from becoming another sexual feast for the man who held her within his grasp. Rather than trying to rise up to escape, Monica performed another maneuver girls learn from early on, taking the path of least resistance. Rather than fighting her attacker by pulling out and away from Greg, she moved down, slipping off the edge of the couch and down to the floor. Monica was free from Greg’s warm delicate fingers but now found herself trapped and sitting on the floor. He had Monica held between his legs, his feet reflexively circling her torso and pulling her back into the edge of the couch, but she expected this. Monica’s defensive action wasn’t meant to escape so much as re-position and provide her with a little more control over the situation.

As Greg reached out and tried to pull her back onto the couch, Monica turned to face Greg, rising up on her knees and placing her face only inches from the crotch of his pants. Paying no attention to Greg’s words or hands on her bare breasts or the legs that circled her back, Monica reached out and with practiced skill unbuckled and unzipped and pulled apart the thin cloth barrier that hid what men care most about. Monica expected the obvious, intended to perform the obvious and quiet her boss’s masculine demands with some minimum oral appeasement. Yet as she peeled aside the crotch of Greg’s pants, Monica was startled by the sudden appearance of his long if semi-soft phallus, the pale pole of flesh quickly hardening there before her eyes.

The sight of Greg’s very excited length of manhood held her attention for an extra moment because of the uniqueness of the organ. To put it bluntly, Monica had never before come face to cock with an uncircumcised penis before. Cole’s cock had a fat thick head on it, and even Jim’s flared out a bit, the hood sporting an almost missile-like shape that slid into her with ease. Her vague memory of other boys in high school seemed to all include the standard hard poles with soft fleshy knobs in the end. Now she was literally faced with a long mottled pink to purple to brown trunk that rose up out of Greg’s pants and ended with an unrecognizable endpoint, like an extra pinch of skin where she expected the hood of his dick to be.

Monica pulled her head back but reached out with one hand to grasp the middle portion of Greg’s penis. She gave only a second to wondering how she should proceed before reminding herself that whatever a man’s cock looked like, they probably all reacted to a woman’s mouth in the same way. Acting purely on instinct and past experience, Monica leaned in, pulling the hard length of flesh back toward her mouth. In doing so she found her hand pulling down on the skin that wrapped over the top portion of Greg’s cock, the leaking tip and hood magically appearing before her eyes. This surprised Monica so much that she pushed up on the soft fleshy wrap and then again pulled back down, forgetting her initial intent in her almost comical interest in the unique appendage she had uncovered.

Monica then felt Greg’s hands on the back of her head, forcing her to lean in, and she finally performed her expected duty, opening her mouth and wrapping her lips over the top few inches of Greg’s cock. His moan was expected. All men moaned as some part of a woman’s body devoted itself to pleasuring his cock and balls. Monica again reminded herself that Greg was just a man and if all went according to her plan Greg would quickly achieve an orgasm, Monica would swallow, he would fall back and release her, and they’d be off and back to the office in half an hour. Blowjobs were a little different for Cole, not so much a necessary labor as a part of an hours long session of sex, but that was Cole. She didn’t imagine Greg being anything like him.

Monica quickly got to work, her two hands pumping the trunk of Greg’s pole while she did her best to lick and suck the upper portion of the unique portion of manhood she had within her mouth. Greg’s hands remained on her head, softly caressing her hair but remaining firmly behind her head, reminding Monica of just who was in charge. Many minutes into her labors Monica was growing tired, her jaws starting to ache and her stomach full of swallowing what seemed to be a never-ending flow of Greg’s pre-cum. Greg stopped pumping his hips up and his cock into Monica’s mouth, but instead of sitting back and pulling his cock out from her mouth, Greg said “Deeper Monica. How much deeper can you go? Take a breath and show me how far down you can go.”

Greg’s request confused her for a second, men in her past usually just shoving it deeper and moaning as Monica really put her oral skills to work. This time she did as Greg so graciously asked, slowly moving her head down, swallowing as much of his thick wet length as she could. She wondered herself how far down she could go on her own before the gag reflex kicked in. Monica focused on going down, feeling out the position of the hard pole in her throat, pushing her head down a little lower, then feeling a gag beginning and pulling back. Greg was there, one hand on her head, another down to feel up her bare tits, his words coaxing Monica to try again, to go a little further, and describing how she was better at swallowing his cock than any woman he had ever met. Not quite what she wanted to hear, but she didn’t take the time to overthink it.

Even after everything Monica had been through with Cole, every day or night with Cole including some amount of time with his cock in her mouth, this long session with Greg and trying to fit all of his cock down her throat was unique. She almost made it, perhaps with two-thirds of the hard pole being enveloped by her mouth. When Greg did finally push her head back and pulled his cock out of her mouth, Monica was actually grateful that he hadn’t done what most other men had done. That is, face fuck her, force her to take it all in and ejaculate down her throat with no thought to her own needs. Instead Greg allowed her to lay her head down on the seat of the couch and catch her breath, his hands going low to feel up her breasts and his words continuing to say soft things about what a sexy little mouth she had. Again, not what she wanted to her, but no different from Cole, and at that moment she really didn’t care.

Then came another request for her to get up and without thinking Monica rose up on her knees, her face still even with Greg’s long length of cock, and as she tried to stand Greg pulled her up to sit on his lap, knees on either side of his legs. Over the next minute he pulled Monica into a kiss, a long loving kiss, all the while pulling her into his chest with one hand while the other went low and felt out her panties and ass. Then his fingers went deeper, pushing through the middle of her labia and even a thumb slipping into her vagina. Monica struggled to pull back but Greg only held her tighter.

When Monica tried to escape his roving fingers Greg just pulled her up so that her head was above his, but with his face even with her chest. Monica gasped at the feel of his lips and tongue sucking in first one breast and then the other, Greg’s hands holding her tight even while roaming through her open thighs. Then came the unmistakable feel of a cock slipping under the edge of her panties, then through her slit and in an instant the leading tip of his cock levering out the well lubricated hole of her vagina.

Monica gasped at the initial entrance, her eyes going wide, but this was followed by Greg forcing his hips up, the leading head of his cock fully entering Monica’s vaginal opening. This caused Monica to moan at the effort of taking him in. She made an attempt to rise up off of the offending pole, struggling and pulling back, her hands pushing away, her body fighting Greg’s growing presence inside of her, her voice screaming out, “No. Damn it Greg no, don’t do it.” She tried, Monica knows she tried, but Greg was too strong, too prepared, and his arms and hands kept her from doing any more than using her jerking attempts at freeing herself to increase the depth of his cock inside of her.

After a minute of struggle Monica’s store of energy seemed to evaporate. She was suddenly overwhelmed with exhaustion and as her body lost the strength to fight, she found herself being pulled back into Greg’s chest. Monica felt Greg’s hands push her knees out and hold her thighs down, her hips then slipping down, her pussy engulfing another few inches of his widening shaft. She moaned out a “No” but his hands kept her locked onto his pole and with a slight upward thrust of his hips, Greg pushed another couple of inches inside of her. All muscle control lost, Monica held onto Greg’s neck and collapsed into him, even more of his cock taking up space within her, stretching out her vaginal walls and causing her to moan. Greg took this to mean total acquiescence and with his two hands holding tight to her back and ass, he began a hard bouncing fuck from underneath.

Monica held on, her head pressed into Greg’s neck, focused on the depth Greg was pushing his cock into her, enjoying the feel of the long strokes while also hoping he didn’t push any further up. At first it was a simple fuck, Greg taking control, holding her steady while he pushed his cock up into her and pulled back before repeating for another dozen dozen times. Somewhere in the middle Monica found herself participating, pushing her ass down and bouncing off his rising hips, impaling herself on his cock while altering the direction of his thrust and hoping to get something more than a load of semen out of his forced actions.

She was beginning to moan in earnest, feeling the promise of a rising climax, when Greg pulled Monica in and let out a groan of his own, saying her name just as she could literally feel his cock begin to throb inside of her and a warm wetness began to fill her. Greg ground his hips up into her for another minute, doing his best to empty every drop of his seed inside of Monica, but he finally relaxed, his hands holding her ass firmly down on his lap and his head dropping to bite then kiss her neck.

His words remained soft but not at all delicate, lightly biting Monica’s ear while whispering out what tight hot cunt she was and of how he had longed to flood her pussy with his cum. Just another man. They stayed clutched together for a long moment, but what brought Monica out of her state of post-coital exhaustion was what he said next. “I’m so sorry but I just couldn’t hold myself back. I was so ready, you made me so ready that I couldn’t wait to cum in you. It was wonderful for me, but probably a bit of a letdown for that ravenous pussy of yours. Here. Let me make it up to you.”

What did that mean? Monica mumbled out a “No, it’s okay” and shaking her head, hoping merely to go outside and make it back home, unsure if she could ever return to work. As the thoughts floated through her mind, Greg slipped off the chair and onto the carpet though with Monica held tight, his softened cock still largely embedded inside of her.

Once on the floor Monica found the strength to rise on her knees and disengage from Greg. As his cock slipped out from inside of her, Greg’s hold loosened and Monica was allowed to turn, her back to him, her bare chest now facing an empty chair. She tried to stand, leaning into the seat of the chair and pushing up, but Greg was there behind her and holding her down. As she rose up on her knees and looked back, Greg’s hands went under her dress and lifted up, pulling the dress off of her and tossing it to the side.

Before Monica became conscious of her nakedness, Greg pushed down on her panties, pushing them all the way down to her knees. In another instant one hand had risen to wrap itself around one of her tits while the other hand pushed between her thighs. Monica expected an attempt by Greg to finger her clit, her shock and anguish over being ravished by her boss fighting her inner desire for her own lust and physical needs to be given some release. This would be what Cole would attempt, and usually with great effect, Monica having just as many orgasms with the play of his fingers as with his tongue or a straight cock to cunt fuck. Cole was good at all of that. Yet Greg surprised Monica, pausing only for a moment to play with her clit, then down to push two or maybe three of his large fingers up into her very well lubricated and cum-wet hole.

Kneeling behind her, Greg held Monica tight to his chest, that upper hand thumbing her nipples in turn. She didn’t fight him this time, leaning back and allowing the man to play with her body, as men will. For a moment his other hand was just some fingers up her cunt with some part of his palm pressing in on her clit, but then something else began to build. Greg’s fingers were doing something more, the building sexual excitement coming not so much from her erect and expectant clit as from deep within her loins.

A minute, two minutes, then three, Monica’s moans becoming louder and longer, and then it was as though a literal wave washed over her. Her moans turned to a wail as she was overcome by an explosive release of sexual tension emanating from her pussy, from deep within her loins and reaching all the way into her head. Monica remembers violently convulsing and then writhing in Greg’s embrace, her scream seeming to come from somewhere else in the room. As she collapsed into the chair, all she could think was how wonderful a feeling it was, and wishing that whatever Greg had done to her he would do it again and again.

Monica found herself face down in the chair, her mind numbed by the orgasm that had taken over her body. She was only partially aware of Greg now standing over her, removing the rest of his clothing. Then he reached down to wrap his hands around her chest, his fingers grabbing her nipples and pulling up. By necessity Monica had to follow, the pain of his tight hold on her nipples being a shock, but it only lasted a moment. Once on her feet Greg pulled her into his own naked body, then tripped her down to the floor, laying her back on the carpet in the middle of the room. Monica looked up at Greg, now naked and kneeling between her splayed legs. She tried to focus on Greg’s face but her eyes were drawn down to his re-energized cock, rising up hard and long from the hairy ball sac that hung from his midriff.