Chapter 6

The drive to work Monday morning was gut wrenching. Monica had kissed Jim goodbye, telling him she would see him maybe after lunch, or maybe later if Greg kept her all day and had her skip Tuesday. “You never know; depends on the day and what he needs done.”

Jim didn’t seem to care either way, saying “Hell, with what he’s paying you, I say give him a full day every day. I can’t believe you’re making almost as much as I do. Glad my job gives us benefits, so go along with whatever he wants and if nothing else gain some work experience.”

Right. Only Jim had no idea what kind of experience Monica was getting from Greg. She felt guilty about what Jim seemed to be clueless about, and a little more guilty about cheating on Cole, which was ridiculous since it was possible that Cole had arranged for Greg to seduce her in the first place. She really wanted to ask but didn’t know how to bring it up. If she accused Cole of setting her up as an easy lay for his good friend Greg, then she’d have to admit to what she and Greg had done, and Monica wasn’t sure she was ready to talk about that.

Then there was Greg and what he had done to and with and inside of her just a few days before. Here she was, driving back to work at an office with a man who had done the most wonderfully unacceptable things to her. Now that a few days had passed, Monica was able to think back and condemn the man while also losing herself in the possibilities her handsome and lusty boss may have in store for her. She feared him and his strength and overt violence exhibited during sex, enough to break out into a nervous sweat half a dozen times over the weekend. She also remembered what he was able to do to her with only his fingers and imagined him repeating every act of indecency they had shared that previous Friday afternoon.

All that being thought out, Monica had to admit to herself that she, or some darker part of herself, had silently agreed to some kind of a relationship with Greg. She had been chastising herself all weekend, going back and forth over the moral dilemma and physical dangers and sexual pleasures her boss seemed to be holding out for her. And that was the crux of the matter. Greg had made it pretty clear: work was no longer just data entry and correspondence. She had every expectation that the second she walked into the office, Greg would lock the door and bend her over the desk for a long hard reaming fuck of one of her holes.

It made Monica shudder in nervousness, but she could also feel a twinge of desire coming from between her legs, and mentally Monica knew she was up for it. If it had happened a year ago, before Cole, forget it. Monica would have run for the police. Now she actually anticipated Greg’s moves, her heart racing with thoughts of what he could next do for her. As she thought this all out for the hundredth time, Monica meandered through a number of country side-roads before finally forcing herself to pull into the plant’s parking lot.

Monica saw that Greg’s car was already in the lot, a dark green BMW sedan. She parked her battered Toyota next to it, a corner by the building that received afternoon shade, and walked into the warehouse and up the metal steps to the small complex of offices. Her heart was racing as she opened the door and hung her sweater up. One part of her hoped Greg was out touring the factory, but then he appeared from his side office and walked over to give Monica a hug.

He was openly familiar with her body, commenting on her dress, approving the amount of cleavage that showed while giving her ass cheeks a quick feel and pat. Given what they had shared on Friday, and her presence in a dress of his choosing the following Monday, he probably thought she was his for the taking. But after another short massage of her ass Greg turned to work, instructing Monica to follow a few form letters and send out some correspondence before making a handful of phone calls to suppliers.

For the rest of the morning he was all work, only once coming out to her desk to show her where special correspondence was stored on the computer, taking advantage of his standing next to her to reach down and leisurely massage Monica’s nearest breast. This was astounding to Monica, the man talking business while assuming he had free reign over any part of her body. She had to force herself to concentrate on what he was saying, fighting competing urges, wanting to moan and lean into him, but also wanting to run home and never return.

More perturbing was that Greg did nothing for the rest of the day. They worked, Monica ate lunch at her desk, and Greg then left for a meeting with no more direction to Monica than to “feel free to use the bathroom” that was a part of his private office. Monica was sure Greg was just playing with her but didn’t know what to do about it. She was more upset at herself for hoping something did happen.

She had Tuesday off but even Cole seemed to be busy, leaving Monica stuck at home with Jim as he and a couple of friends worked on his truck before he took off for work. Monica actually found herself looking forward to Wednesday and what more Greg would want from her, nervous but excited at the unknown factor Greg had thrown into their working relationship.

Monica drove into work, the commute now known and easy for her. Greg was already there at 8, and before 9 he called Monica into his office. She assumed he had some work to take back to her desk, perhaps papers to organize and file, but Greg just waved to the leather couch in the middle of his large office. “Have a seat Monica. I’m in the middle of something that doesn’t require a lot of attention and you’re the most interesting distraction around. Go ahead. Sit.”

Monica didn’t know what to think of his comments and so simply sat facing him at his desk. Greg then gave her additional directions. “Lean back, and open up your knees a little. More. And hike up your dress. I like long dresses, to the knee, but I’d never complain if you wore a short skirt, and preferably something tight to the ass.”

Within a minute Greg had arranged Monica so that her legs were open, dress drawn to her upper thigh, and panties certainly within view of her boss at his desk. She didn’t know what to think, unhappy at being treated like some plaything, yet herself excited at what amounted to foreplay. Every couple of minutes Greg looked over, perhaps with a quick smile and a few times with directions on how better to position herself.

After half an hour Greg had Monica pull down the top of her dress, himself personally arranging her clothing so that just one breast was revealed for his viewing pleasure. Within another half hour he had removed her panties, pulled her leg over the arm of the couch, and then had her lay down with her bare crotch pointed toward the desk. While he arranged her to his liking, Greg had taken some joy in pulling her panties off, giving approval to the lace-like edges and high-hip bikini cut. Then to Monica’s astonishment he had dipped his head between her legs, pushing her knees and thighs high and wide while giving light tonguing kisses within and around her slit. Monica had given out a moan and closed her eyes when Greg had wrapped his lips around her very tender clit, but then inwardly cursed the man when he suddenly withdrew back to his chair.

Through it all Monica found herself both excited and perplexed, unsure of what Greg wanted and unhappy at the thought of being seen as a piece of cheap office furniture. After another quarter hour, Greg took another long look at Monica where she was lying, her thighs open and twat visible to the entire room. He nodded and gave a rare verbal comment. “You really have a beautiful little pussy there Monica. No, not little. Quite voluptuous.”

Monica had no words to return to him, but he probably wasn’t listening anyway. Greg got up from his desk and kneeled on the rug just in front of where Monica was sprawled on the couch. Without a word Greg pulled her down to kneel before him, bending down to kiss Monica in a way he never had before. They had already shared many play kisses, fast kisses to her lips, bites to her breasts, a tongue to her clit, but this was a long deep kiss that spoke of passion. Monica didn’t know where Greg was going or what he wanted, but she was happy to indulge him and received and returned his kiss with an equal level of desire.

Greg finally pulled back and pushed Monica back at her shoulders. “Turn around Monica. Just lean there, against the couch.”

Monica needed no further instructions, knowing exactly what Greg was going to do. But to what part of her? As Greg lifted up her dress and pushed an obviously hard and demanding cock into her naked ass, Monica raised her hips and readied herself for whatever choice he made. She groaned in appreciation when Greg lowered the tip of his organ and roughly pushed into her vaginal opening, With a loud groan, Monica pushed her ass back as though in a rapturous greeting to a returning loved one. Greg pushed in with a half dozen more hard thrusts, Monica happy to help with a little hip action of her own, and within a minute she could feel his crotch pressing firmly into her bare ass.

Monica was happy, almost purring in anticipation of what was to come, but she was shocked at his next words. “Yes, voluptuous, and so damn hot. Do you wake up ready to fuck, or did you get so excited over me forcing you to exhibit yourself that you had an orgasm there on the couch?”

Greg didn’t wait for an answer, and Monica wasn’t sure she had one to give. With no more interruptions, the man began a simple fuck from the rear. Monica was conscious of being worried that someone might walk in on them, and blushed more from the wet slurping sounds of Greg’s active cock moving in and out of her twat than from the act itself. If anything, it was a good fuck, simple and worthy of Cole on one of his good days, though without any of his soft words.

After a wonderful five minutes, Monica began to react, perspiration breaking out over her body, her regular grunts turning into long moans. That’s when Greg slowed, moving a hand down between her thighs, feeling out and playing his fingers across her clit in a practiced set of rhythmic movements. Only minutes later the combined fuck and clitoral stimulation led to a wave of pleasure that completely overwhelmed Monica. She wasn’t sure whether or not she screamed out loud for all the warehouse to hear, but she was aware of her moans, of her body pushing back to greet Greg’s inward thrusts even as the passing echoes of her orgasm continued to fill her body.

A minute later Greg moved his hands up from her thighs to her breasts, bending over Monica and increasing the tempo of his hips. Greg soon began giving out a long loud groan, a hand returning to hold Monica’s thigh and ass tight to his crotch. As Monica expected, a flush of wet warmth filled her interior, Greg grinding into her ass as his balls pumped out their contents. Then came the expected collapse, Greg’s large frame slowly relaxing onto Monica’s own, his hands again up to hold her breasts even as she could feel his thick pole continue to throb inside of her, as though a heart unaware that it’s life was over.

They lay connected on the couch for a few minutes, Monica very comfortable with the heavy but warm body that covered her own as Greg’s cock retained a deep and living presence inside of her. Greg finally pushed himself up, though still connected within Monica by his softer yet still sizeable cock. “Wonderful Monica. I needed that, but I think you’ll agree you got something out of it too. So, maybe I’m not the selfish asshole you might think I am. I’ll always keep your needs in mind.”

Monica didn’t know what to think of this, but her still hazy mind was brought to attention by Greg’s next statement. “Here. Bring your hand back to cover yourself up. I don’t want any of myself to drip down onto the rug.”

Greg had pulled Monica’s hand back, placing her hand fully across the length of her furry slit, saying, “Wait. Don’t move.” Monica remained kneeling next to and still collapsed into the couch, watching as a half-naked Greg walked to a small bureau in the back of his office and removed something from a drawer.

“Here. Just relax,” and moving Monica’s hand away Greg pushed something short but wide into Monica’s warm and well stretched hole. As he pushed the object into her, Monica had reflexively tried to move away, but Greg had held her down and forced the object into her. She could feel its presence, but also knew it was short and wouldn’t be moving up any further. As she relaxed, Greg inexplicably turned her around to face him, then reached over to grab her panties and pulled them onto her.

“This is my one real obsession. Maybe a kind of fetish, but I like knowing that everything I pour into you is going to stay there. I like the idea of that hot little cunt of yours carrying around some special part of me.” Monica’s eyes narrowed and she opened her mouth but Greg waved her off, saying “No. I’ve already been condemned and lectured. I know. It’s just something I need. I hope you can put up with it.”

Monica would have asked more questions rather than thrown out any condemnations, ten years of sexual interaction with a wide variety of men and girls teaching her that everybody has their kinks. More interesting to her was Greg’s assumption that they were in a relationship in which she’d be expected to ‘put up with it’ well into the future.

Then, to Monica’s chagrin and no small amount of disappointment at his lack of imagination, Greg led her over to sit on the armrest of the couch. She could feel the object inside of her, like some kind of butt plug but a little wider filling her vagina. Weird, but not uncomfortable as she sat on the side of the couch. Still wearing shirt and tie but minus his trousers, Greg pulled her head over to clean off and bring some life back to his cum-slathered length of manhood. Just what Cole would have wanted.

Five minutes and a very sore jaw later, Greg pulled his hands away from her breasts, gave a last set of thrusts into Monica’s mouth before withdrawing a gleaming but much cleaner cock, and gave a kiss to the top of Monica’s head. “Wonderful Monica. I think you can see we could do even more through lunch and into the afternoon, but work calls. Why don’t you go for lunch before doing anything else. I’d let you go home, but I need those old records in order to be reviewed by the accountant.”

Monica hitched up her dress, putting on her camisole but not bothering with her bra. As she walked out of Greg’s office, she looked back and saw him staring at his computer screen, seemingly unconcerned with what had taken place over the previous couple of hours. She shook her head, wondered what kind of reality Cole had dragged her into, and closed Greg’s door behind her.

Monica’s simple sandwich and half apple didn’t appeal to her anymore and she chose to go down and mingle with the lunch crowd that gathered by a food truck that set up shop in the parking lot every work day. Normally she wouldn’t bother, but the taste of Greg’s cock and their shared emissions still filled her mouth and throat and she thought a coke would cut the biting residue that remained. She stood in line for only a minute, paying for the generic soda and stepping aside to open and sip from the chilled can.

Suddenly, Monica found herself surrounded by a half dozen other women, all in different types of garb or uniform, from dress to denim, but only one spoke. “Hi. You’re Monica, right? Mr. *** new office assistant? Hi, I’m Ruby. You know, we should go out some time, maybe for lunch or a drink after work. It’s so rare we get to hang out and talk with one another here.”

Monica could only nod, giving out a low burp and greeting the group with a wave and a “Hi, yeah, Monica.” Before she could say anything else the woman, all denim and slightly taller as well as somewhat wider than Monica, continued. “It’s been a while since he had somebody up there. I bet there’s a lot of backlog you’ve got to take care of. The last girl left, what, the end of August or something, right?” The other women in the group nodded as Ruby filled her in on the recent past.

“Boy was she young. Sixteen at best, but good looking. Only here for the summer and then gone. Must have done something wrong. I mean, usually his assistants last either a week or a year, one of the two, right?” And again, the other women in the group nodded.

Ruby finally got to the point. “Anyway, I think the girl was only here for, you know, the big man’s amusement. No secret she drove in with him a couple days every week, and we’re talking early morning hours. But we all know he’s got wandering hands, always there to give a little added attention where it’s not needed.” Again the women all nodded and gave sounds of affirmation before Ruby said, “Just a word of warning. You shouldn’t think you’re up there just for your good office skills. With a bod like you’ve got (pause) you’re bound to be expected to do more than type and answer the phone. Not accusing him or anything. Just a warning. You take care of yourself.”

Monica could feel her face reddening under the attention of the half-dozen women, unsure of what to say, perhaps more conscious than ever of the type of working relationship she and Greg had already consummated. All she could do is release another embarrassing burp and utter, “Um, thanks. Yeah, but I’ve got work to do. See you.”

She could feel the eyes of the women on her back as she walked away, praying that whatever Greg had stuffed into her hole didn’t decide to squeeze out and fall down to the ground before she made it to the office.

Back at her desk, Monica found she needed to pee. Peeking into Greg’s office, she motioned to him that she wanted to use his private restroom and he waved her on. Almost absent mindedly and without even looking at her he said, “No need to ask. I think we’re beyond the whole boss-employee barrier.”

It wasn’t something Monica wanted to dwell too deeply on just then but she walked on to the bathroom. She thought of locking the door, then laughed at herself. What was it that she was going to hide from the man? Pulling down her panties she quickly relieved herself, then took a look at the thing Greg had stuck up her vagina. It looked like nothing more than a butt plug, a simple rubbery knob sticking out from her hole and resting between her thighs. Monica pulled on the smooth round knob but the interior portion resisted any movement out of her. Giving the bathroom door a quick glance, she pulled harder and had to suppress a groan as a wide oval-like plug popped out of her hole. She could see that the firm but pliable thing was very much like a butt-plug, something she hadn’t seen since meeting Jim years before. Yet this was larger, wider, and obviously for something other than the average girl’s ass. A vaginal plug? Certainly not a dildo she had ever seen. With a shake of her head she bit her lip and re-inserted the plug, silently wondering about the strange ways of men

The thought of removing the plug completely was held in her mind for only an instant, feeling constrained by Greg’s admonition to wear it for the rest of the day. She shrugged, thinking that the thing didn’t really interfere with walking and didn’t feel too uncomfortable. She then thought of Cole’s mango pit and the various other things he had filled her twat with. In comparison, this larger version of a butt-plug wasn’t all that odd, so she pulled up her panties, washed her hands, and made a quick exit.

Greg was on the phone but as Monica walked past he said “Wait just a second,” both to Monica and to the person he was speaking to. Cole quickly got up, walked over and without any hesitation pulled Monica into an embrace and gave a kiss to her cheek, all while one of his hands rose up within her thighs, tickling her thighs and giving a long feel of her pussy through without going past her panties. “Good girl. Keep it there until tonight, right? Until then I own that hot little pussy of yours. And be sure to wear it back here on Friday.” With that he gave Monica’s ass a soft pat and returned to his desk.

That Wednesday night was long and lonely, Jim off to work and Cole busy with some project in his garage. He was normally more than willing to spend a half-hour with Monica just talking about life and the neighborhood and work, but her text was followed by a real phone call from June.

“June. Hi. Good timing. I just texted Cole. Is he around?”

“Oh, yeah Monica. I’m in the middle of fixing dinner now. Wish you could come over, but Cole is working in his garage. Said he can’t do anything today or tonight. Too bad, but aren’t you a little busy with work and everything?”

“Yeah, but Jim is gone and I was just hoping to hang out and talk with Cole. Not for, you know, too long, but I guess he’s busy.”

“Yeah, but I know you had a full day at the factory today. Figured that Mr. Greg would keep you so busy that you’d be too tired to do anything but fall into bed. Well, I mean into your own bed. Which reminds me. A half dozen of your panties are laundered and tucked away into Cole’s underwear drawer. I don’t mind, but don’t expect me to iron them.”

Monica blushed, sure the red flush on her face could be seen from across town, but before she could say something, June concluded with, “Anyway, maybe another time. I’ll remind Cole to give you a call,” and hung up.

Monica knew June was probably laughing at her, saying one thing on the phone while inserting other meanings between the words. But what? And why does the girl know Monica’s work schedule as well as she does? Shaking her head in frustration, Monica made do with a simple salad and a repeat of a favorite rom-com with a couple of fingers roaming south of her panty line before turning in for bed.

Thursday was a free day for Monica and Cole even sent a short and hopeful text: “The house is empty without you.” That would have been perfect, but Jim was up early and eager to do some window shopping for trucks. Monica felt it would have been impossible to beg off Jim’s invitation to join him and then later go out for lunch. It was what couples did, so Monica went along. She had no interest in most of what Jim and the various salespeople considered important in a truck. She smiled and nodded as necessary, but her mind was more on how nice it would be to share a cup of coffee with Cole than on what kind of wheel base a truck needed.

Still, Monica had to admit that lunch was nice and that she enjoyed spending time with Jim while away from home. It reminded her of when they were younger and uncaring about the future. Maybe the thought of a new truck made Jim relax and take things a little less seriously. Back at the house Monica even prepared an extra-early meal so that Jim could take something other than a sandwich to work. At 3:30 they kissed and parted as loving couples do, and yet by six Monica was on her phone, texting Cole and letting him know she was free.

Cole immediately texted back and invited her over. Monica felt a burst of joy, but she also felt the shame and guilt, a duplicitous wife with a voracious cunt and no respect for her marriage vows. She got that. But really, in her mind all she wanted was to be with Cole. Sure, for sex, but more just to sit with him and talk and laugh at his stories. The man was addictive.

“You should have joined me this morning Monica.” Cole greeted her with a hug and an offer of a bowl of delicious smelling soup. “June was at school and I didn’t have to be anywhere until ten. Still, I understand. Jim must come first.”

Monica didn’t know how Cole could so easily discuss Jim. Every time she mentioned Jim in conversation, her own heart skipped a beat. She preferred keeping him and their marriage in a separate compartment, never to be brought up while she was around Cole. June, on the other hand, was often a topic of conversation, and though Monica always felt an underlying layer of hostility (or perhaps sneering contempt) from the girl, she did her best to act cordially around his daughter.

This was easier said than done as they ate their soup. June mentioned some school work she had to do but otherwise was silent, or was giving Monica the silent treatment, until the two teamed up in the kitchen to do the dishes.

“No need to help Monica. I’ve got it. No work today? Looking forward to seeing Mr. Greg tomorrow?”

Monica didn’t know how the subject got onto her work schedule, but she turned the conversation back onto June. “Mr. Greg? Why do you call him that?”

“Oh nothing,” replied June. “I just know his name is Greg. Cole mentions him from time to time. You must like the work. I bet he keeps you busy. You know, like on your toes. Or is all that secretarial work flattening that pert little ass of yours?” With this last statement, June uncharacteristically gave a soft slap to Monica’s nearest butt cheek and gave out a low chuckle. Monica’s jaw dropped and was going to say something but Cole had walked in and overheard the last bit of June’s remark. “Enough June.”

Cole rarely showed anger, but with that short statement he indicated that June had crossed a line. Monica hoped he would have said more, and hopefully then would have pulled Monica into the bedroom where, so he had promised earlier, he would “pour drops of brandy on your magnificent breasts and then remove them with gentle kisses.”

Monica couldn’t wait to feel his arms wrap around her, and especially feel his lips giving those gentle kisses to her nipples and breasts. Sadly, just as Cole was telling June to stop acting like a child, Monica’s ringtone filled the front room. It was old Mrs. Flynn, and she seemed to be having a panic attack.

Hardly a minute later the three of them were crowding into Mrs. Flynn’s kitchen. The house smelled as old as she was, which was fitting since all of the furnishings, and even the curtains, looked to be from the middle of the last century. She was livid, pacing back and forth in the kitchen before a container of ice cream that had a broken wooden spoon sticking up out of it. It seems that she had wanted to get herself some ice cream but had inexplicably broken the spoon off. Monica could easily see why. The spoon, like the rest of the house, was old and worn, and even the vanilla ice cream looked as though time had sucked all the flavor and color from the container where it had probably been stored in the back of the freezer.

“Now Mrs. Flynn. Don’t you worry,” Cole assured her. “I’m sure we have a much better scoop for you to use. And even a jar of canned cherries that will go wonderfully with your ice cream.”

Monica could only smile. As the four of them sat down for a bowl of burned vanilla and sweet cherries, she thought back on the dozen times she and Jim had come over for similar emergencies. Just the week before Jim had rushed over to help her in another emergency which turned out to be her wanting to move a chair closer to her television. It was funny, yet the old lady made the neighborhood what it was.

As they left the elderly woman’s home, stomachs grumbling about the age of the ice cream, Cole leaned over to give Monica a kiss to her cheek. “Maybe better if you just return to your own place tonight,” he whispered. “Make it back to my arms soon. I do miss you.”

Monica was unhappy but turned for her own door. She thought of the many toys June had hidden in her room, thought of her own simple dildos tucked away in the closet, and chose instead a shot of Jim’s good bourbon. Just something to warm her before bed, though once under the covers she found herself warmed all over from thoughts of what work might entail the next day. If not Cole, then there was Greg. She didn’t even bother to think of the insubstantial warmth Jim would bring to her side once he returned from work after midnight.

Friday should have been just another work day at the office, another day of data and phone calls and emails and the rest, but Monica knew that anything was possible with Greg. She had only been working for him for a few weeks, and already he had done more with her than Jim had attempted over the past year.

She condemned herself, but also had to smile at the interesting if not very welcome situation she had fallen into. What other woman would literally have inserted a fat if short dildo up her hole on orders from her boss? She wouldn’t be surprised if in the first minute after walking through the door he told her to open her legs to half the work crew. She’d tell him to go to hell, of course, but it wouldn’t have surprised her. Well, most probably tell him to go to hell. Unless of course he put her on full time with benefits.

The morning went just as other mornings had, work on a screen and talking to headless voices on a phone. As before, Greg kept himself busy within his own office, giving out only a few bits of advice and direction to help Monica complete her tasks. As lunchtime neared Monica wasn’t at all surprised when Greg came out and called her into his office. Her mind was filled with a hundred different scenarios of what Greg would want to do to her, but none of them matched his simple request.

“Lift your dress Monica. Let me have a look.”

Monica reflexively looked around the office, as though checking to make sure there were no witnesses. As she lifted up the edge of her skirt, Greg kneeled before her, reaching up and gently removing her panties, and then up again, his hands feeling between her thighs. “Beautiful. Good girl. It looks like you trimmed your twat a bit. I hope you were thinking of me. And my little plug is still there.”