Chapter 5

In New York City, at least where the big hotels are, your eyes are practically assaulted by the lights. Even shops that were closed were brightly lit up. There were people everywhere and, within three blocks, we probably heard five or six different languages being spoken. We stopped to watch a few street performers and then walked to the Empire State Building to ride the elevator to the top. The view was incredible and I put my arm around Mandy, pulling her against me. Her arm went behind me and she slid her hand into my left rear pocket. There were people around, but they weren’t looking at us. I reached to lift and squeeze her braless breast and she hip-bumped me.

We passed signs advertising Broadway type shows and comedy shows, but didn’t go in. Several times she pulled at my hand to stop me while she gazed into closed clothing shops that featured women’s wear. Just before we got back to the hotel we stopped at a street vendor’s stall and got falafels. We made one stop at a little all night bodega, where I got a three pack of condoms.

We were alone in the elevator, going up to our rooms. I stood behind her and reached around to maul her unfettered breasts.

“You were a good girl on our walk,” I said. “You don’t need to be punished.”

She turned and reached for my face, pulling it down for a passionate kiss.

“I need you,” she moaned into my lips.

“Oh, you’ll get me,” I said, pulling her hips against the bulge my erection was making. “I’m just not going to punish you.”

“Okay,” she said.

She was naked within twenty seconds of closing the door to my room. She attacked my buttons and belt. I reached into my pocket for the condoms before she slid my pants down and helped me step out of them. I was hard, and as she squatted there, in front of me, she kissed the tip of my prong, but didn’t suck it.

She had never installed a condom before, so I did it rather than spend time teaching her how. Soon three quarters of my penis was encased in lavender-colored latex.

She was primed, but I wanted her to have multiple orgasms, so I worked on her nipples with my mouth while I finger-fucked her to her first orgasm.

“I want you in me!” she growled, just before my fingers brought her off.

“Patience,” I said, kissing her as I crushed her clit and she shook with the effects of her cum.

I moved to lick her and she sat up.

“I want you in me, Bob!”

“I will,” I said. “I just want to make sure you’re ready.”

“I’ve been ready since the Empire State Building!” she yipped. “If there hadn’t been people around I would have asked you to take me from behind while I looked out at everything.”

“You like doggy style?” I asked.

“As long as it’s you I like any style. Please, Bob. You can lick me later. I need to feel you in me now.”

“Okay. On your hands and knees,” I said.

She obeyed me and, from obvious previous experience, knew how to spread her knees and tilt her hips so that her split peach was both visible and easily accessible. I swabbed the tip of my prick in her slick furrow and then teased her pink rosebud.

“Not there,” she moaned.

“I know,” I said. “I’m too big. It would hurt you.”

“Bob!” she groaned.

I slid in her all the way and she bent her elbows until her head was on the mattress. I gripped her hips and then moved in and out of her a dozen times before her arms straightened and she looked over her shoulder at me.

“It doesn’t feel right,” she complained.

“That’s the condom,” I said.

“‘Take it off. I don’t like it,” she said.

“Are you ordering me around?” I raised my eyebrows.

I actually saw her face go botox on me. It was creepy.

“No, Sir,” she droned. “If you could please take it off, I would be very grateful.”

“If I take it off, I’m going to cum in your fertile pussy,” I said.

“I know that, Sir.”

Boom. We had talked about this, but she still didn’t care.

That meant it was up to me.

I pulled my sheathed penis out of her and tried to get the condom off. I didn’t have the fingernails for it. She was looking over her shoulder at me and finally whirled to use her own fingernails. You know, those little knives women have on the tips of their fingers?

I yelped as she scraped my skin.

“Sorry! Sorry!” she said, pulling at the latex. “Don’t ever wear one of these again.”

“You are ordering me around,” I said.

“I don’t mean to, Sir,” she said. This time she didn’t sound so formal.

She threw the condom on the floor and whirled to present to me again. This time when I filled her she moaned, “Ohhhh yess. That’s sooo much better.”

I lay down on her back and reached around her to cup her breasts. I found her nipples and began squeezing them in rhythm with my thrusts. She made all manner of pitiful sounds and then cried out as she came. I felt the urge and barely pulled out of her scorching depths before I spurted. I didn’t even have to jack on my cock to make it empty. I painted three lines of cum on her back. It was good her hair was all down around her face, because I’d have gotten cum in her hair if it had been on her back.

Her head turned.

“You took it out!” she complained.

“I decided not to get you pregnant,” I said.

“I like it when you cum in me,” she complained, further.

“And I like cumming in you, but we talked about this, Mandy.”

She turned to sit, Indian style.

“Will it get hard again, soon? That didn’t last very long.”

“Man,” I sighed. “You order me around, and then complain about things. What am I going to do with you?”

“You could make me suck your dick,” she said, coarsely.

“Do you need to be punished?” I asked.

She got up on her knees and pressed her breasts to my chest while she kissed me.

“May-be,” she said, coquettishly against my lips.

“Do you feel like you did anything wrong?”

“With you, no. But if I had done those things with either Professor Limpet or Barry they would have been very angry.”

“So you want me to pretend to discipline you,” I said.

“Would you?” She kissed my chin.

I put my hands on her back and instantly felt the cooling semen I’d put on her.

“Go get me a towel to clean you up with,” I said.

She leapt off the bed and went to my bathroom, returning with one of the medium size towels. She turned to present her back to me and I wiped her down. Then she turned and dropped to her knees.

“I’ll clean you up, too,” she said.

She filled her mouth with my flaccid penis before I could respond.

I would not have believed it, but she got me hard again within ten minutes. No other woman had ever done this, right after sex, so I guess my expectations were faulty.

She stood, and pulled me to the bed. I started on top of her, missionary style, and after she had one orgasm I rolled us over so she was on top. She sat up immediately and winced as she was over-filled. She did not complain, though. If anything, I think she liked that pain. Mandy had a relationship with pain that was very different than most peoples’ reactions.

She only sat that way for fifteen seconds, or so, and then fell forward to thrust her hips rapidly to and fro, rubbing her clit against the base of my cock furiously.

“Oh. Oh. Oh! Ohhhhhh!” she whined, as she came. “I love this so much!”

“I want you to love it,” I said.

She kept going, eager to find another orgasm. Just before that one happened I mauled her breasts and pulled her nipples.

Oddly she slowed, as if she was an engine running out of gas. Her lunges were longer as she drooped her head and her hair fell to tickle my chest.

“Different is so gooooood,” she moaned.

Her pussy clenched and fluttered. I kept pulling her nipples.

Then I rolled her over and, while she lay there as limp as a wet washcloth, I fucked her. I wasn’t making love to her anymore. I was using her to get off. What made this acceptable, though, was that she was happy to be used. She wanted this, in fact, was happy it was happening.

“I’m going to cum in you,” I groaned.

“Yes,” she sighed. “Cum in me, Bob.”

I didn’t slam into her, like I usually do when I cum in a woman. I just kept stroking as soothing jets of semen raced through my penis. I kept moving in and out of her until I was so soft I fell out.

I leaned and rolled to flop down beside her.

Suddenly her lethargy vanished and she sat up to lean over me. Again she filled her mouth with my limp penis, lovingly sucking on it. She pulled off, reached to inspect it by moving it this way and that, and then lay back down beside me.

“Nice and clean,” she said. “Now it’s ready for the next time a damsel in distress needs it.”

“And who might this damsel in distress be?” I asked.

“Me, of course,” she said. “I’m all messed up. I’m going to be in distress for quite a while until I get my mixed up head straight.”

“And I’m helping?”

“You taught me a new way to have sex. It’s a delicious way and I like it very much.”

“But you’re still going to want a beating now and again, aren’t you?” I sighed.

“Probably.”

She rolled to drape one arm across my chest.

“I like that part, too.”

The next day we met with the other bigwigs and finished the presentation. Around three in the afternoon the same stern-faced woman who had shepherded us around approached me. I had never learned her name. She always seemed to know when we were finished with one person (or set of people) and appeared to take us to see the next person (or set).

“I’m aware you worked through lunch,” she said. “If you’d like to step out and get a bite, Mister Cunningham can see you at four.”

“And Mister Cunningham is...?” I asked.

“He’s kidding,” blurted Mandy. “Of course we know Phillip Cunningham started this business in his teens, and is responsible for making it what it is today.”

Our shepherd glanced at Mandy and then back at me.

“Four sharp, please. He has no time to waste.”

She turned to leave and then stopped, facing us again. She looked at me when she spoke and her attitude made it clear she was speaking only to me.

“There will be a small gathering tonight. Cocktails and dinner will be served. You may bring a guest, if you so desire. I’ll give you the address when you finish meeting with Mister Cunningham.”

She turned and left.

As we left I lowered my voice a little. People were coming and going.

“Somebody keeps pissing in that woman’s Wheaties,” I said. “She is downright unhappy.”

“Yes,” said Mandy. “I can’t believe you didn’t know who Phil Cunningham is.”

“What I want to know is why you did,” I said, turning my eyes on her.

“I know who all the important people are in the administrative structure,” she said. “I researched that before we came.”

“So why weren’t you whispering in my ear whenever I met new people?”

“I didn’t need to,” she said, simply. “Not until you almost screwed the pooch by not knowing who the boss was.”

“Why would that matter to some dried up gofer?” I asked. I admit, now I was a little callous.

“That dried up gofer is Phil Cunningham’s executive assistant,” said Mandy.

“Well, at least we know one CEO who isn’t screwing his secretary,” I whispered, grinning.

Mandy closed her eyes and sighed.

“She’s also his wife. They’ve been married for almost as long as he’s owned the company.”

“Well, fuck me,” I sighed.

“I don’t believe I will,” said Mandy. “I don’t think you deserve it.”

I turned my steely gaze on her (or at least I hoped it looked steely).

“That little comment just got you five swats.”

“Ooooo, I’m scared,” she whined, theatrically.

“You should be. Now, let’s go get you a dress.”

“A dress?”

“We are invited to a party, with cocktails. That makes it a cocktail party. I doubt you have a dress suitable to wear to such a shindig.”

“You are invited to a cocktail party,” said Mandy. “If I know who she is, then she knows who I am. That invitation was for you.”

“She said I could plus one,” I said.

“I don’t think she meant me,” said Mandy. “I’m quite sure she doesn’t approve of me.”

“Why?”

“Because ... you probably wouldn’t understand. Let’s just say she can tell that you like me.”

“And what’s wrong with that?”

“I’m your executive assistant, but in her mind that still means secretary. She helped her husband build this business, but he never named her as a partner. She’s still just a glorified secretary, like me, and I bet she resents that. To her, I’m just the hired help and not worthy of a seat at the table.”

“And I’ve had you sitting at the table the whole time we were here,” I said.

“Yes,” she said.

“You’ve been invaluable to me on this trip,” I said.

“I know, Sir,” she said. This “Sir” sounded like casual respect, rather than a sub/dom title. “To her, I should have stayed in the background, though.”

“Well, she can feel the way she wants,” I said. “I do not care what a glorified secretary thinks,” I paused and then winked, “unless it is my own.”

“She’s sleeping with the boss, Bob. If she doesn’t like us she could poison the well.”

“I doubt it,” I said. “I suspect we already have the contract.”

“Why?”

“Because if we didn’t, we wouldn’t be meeting the CEO. Some flunky would have told us thanks for coming and said they’d get with us later. The CEO doesn’t take his valuable time to say thanks, but no thanks.”

“Maybe you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right. I am the boss, the fount of all wisdom, the man who melts the hearts of every glorified secretary who approaches his august being.”

“Or, you’re just a dick and Phil Cunningham enjoys destroying representatives of companies like ours.”

“Five more swats for calling me a dick,” I intoned.

“Sorry,” she said. “I should have called you a penis, of course.”

“Five more,” I warned.

“Oooo, now I’m really scared,” she said. “Are you really going to take me, tonight?”

“Of course I am. And we’re gonna get you a dress that will make the men melt into pools of testosterone and all the women hate you.”

“I really don’t think this is a good idea,” moaned Mandy, as she dragged her feet across the carpet through the connecting door between our rooms. “This is not an appropriate dress for business functions.”

“We’re going to a party, not a business function,” I said. “You look delicious. I’m going to be stiff all night long.”

“No, you’re not. You’re going to behave like a perfect gentleman all night long. You’re going to act like you know who I am, but that’s all. There can be no hint that we have an inappropriate relationship. Phil Cunningham is big on business ethics.”

“He screws his executive assistant. I don’t see why he would be unhappy that I’m doing the same thing,” I said.

“He married his executive assistant,” she said. “There’s a difference.”

“Are you fishing for a proposal?” I teased. “I think it’s a little soon for that.”

She turned bright red.

“I am not fishing!” she blurted.

“Well,” I said, deciding to let her off the hook, “I doubt any man there tonight will believe I could possibly keep my hands off of you.”

“That’s why this dress is a bad idea,” she moaned.

“That dress is a great idea,” I said, brightly. “That dress is the best idea I’ve had in probably five years.”