Chapter 1

I come back from lunch for the second half of the meeting. This is the third day in a row that I am spending with her, trying to convince her that my company was worth buying. My company -- I wish. I'm just a hired gun. She, on the other hand, is the decision maker for an off-shore corporation that buys and sells things. Like companies.

She is tall for a woman. Almost 6', and in heels about 2" taller than me. She has auburn hair, green eyes and an unlocatable, middle-European lilt to her voice. She wears tight, clingy dresses that show off her figure. The hem is at mid-calf, but always with a slit here, or a plunging neckline -- skin is always visible and everything I've seen is tawny. She likes neckwear: Monday was a 6-strand choker of pearls around her neck; Tuesday was a gold band; today it's a 2" leather strap with a crystal heart centered on the throat. So far she's been all business; I've had a hard dick since Monday.

Today she comes back late from a lunch which included too much to drink. Something is wrong, this is not her: She's too good a business-person to work blitzed. Now she is hard to deal with: throwing out things we'd agreed to, demanding too much. I called a halt for the day at 3.00, and went back to hotel room to rethink.

At 4.15 she calls. "I need to apologize for this afternoon. I had some bad news at lunch and it upset me. Can we meet for a drink so we can clear the air before tomorrow?"

Now, not mixing business with pleasure is a good idea, but a drink with a beautiful woman is also a good idea. At 5.30 we meet in the hotel bar. She catches the bartender's eye and he comes over to the table. "Champagne, please, Harry." I guess she was enough of a regular to know Harry. I drink a little and she drinks a lot. She explains that her "former friend" had dumped her at lunch. By 7 she is seriously drunk and talking about sex. He complained she was too much like Catherine the Great. I tell her she doesn't seem like a Catherine to me. She acts conspiratorial and tells me her middle name is Anastasia, and she sometimes thinks of herself as Annie. He was ok in bed, but very conventional, and she was bored. She's glad he's gone; she was just about to kick him out.

She goes to the ladies room and comes back with a look on her face I hadn't seen before; she comes around the table and sits next to me in the booth. She leans on my arm and says, "Let's get some dinner and see a movie. I need a change." Well ... this sounds promising, and my dick is getting harder, but screwing her while she was drunk was (a) something we would both regret in the morning (b) probably not going to be very much fun and© it would probably cost my client about $3 million. But ... she was beautiful and it was just dinner and a movie and...

Anyway, we walk along toward a place she knows. Suddenly she grabs my hand and drags me across the street. We're standing at the ticket booth: "BOX LUNCH -- all XXXX action." I'm in shock. Not objecting, you understand, just in shock. I pay and we go in.

The place is nearly empty and we sit in the back row. The woman on the screen is licking a huge cock, and having a great time doing it. The woman next to me is staring at the screen; she hasn't let go of my hand and is squeezing it in rhythm with the strokes on the screen. She leans her head on my shoulder, trapping my hand against her breast, and begins stroking my thigh with her free hand. She's breathing now in time with the blowjob on the screen.

I'm trying not to break the spell. I want more, but when I try to move my hand against her breast, she freezes. I stop and after a few more hot licks on the screen, she's ok again. GOD! If she doesn't do something except stroke my cock and breathe against my neck, I'm gonna lose it. On-screen, there's a new cock, pumping into the actress from behind, while she's getting more and more frantic with the cock in her mouth. I'm groaning in time with the strokes on my cock. Suddenly she sits up, grabs my hand with two of hers and shoves it under her dress. She's pushing my hand hard toward her pussy. I know what she wants and I also know how close I came before she stopped stroking me. I decide to let her wait. I reach over with my free hand and grab both of her wrists. My busy hand is stroking the inside of both thighs. She squirms against the restraint and arches her pelvis forward toward my fingers. I'm just out of reach.

On-screen, it's the cum-shot. The girl's ass is covered with cum. She jerks the dick in front of her and it's shooting all over her face and hair. She is writhing between the two cocks. I touch the pussy through the silky panties, now soaked through. With the first light touch, she shudders and moans. "Ohhh Yessss" She hisses. "Do me."

I pull the panties at the waist and the material forms a thong that slices between the lips of her pussy. On-screen, a new actress is being spread-eagled over a motorcycle by a trio of leather-clad studs. It's a rape scene and she's putting up a weak fight. When they cut her pants off with a switchblade, there is a tremendous groan and orgasmic shudder from the seat next to me. She wrenches her hand free and shoves my hand against her pussy -- hard. Her grip is iron and I can't move anything except two fingers trapped between her lips. I'm still stroking her but she says "nooooOOO. Don't move." Her eyes are locked on the screen.

The three motorcycle rapists are fucking her now. In the pussy. In the mouth. They bend her over the cycle and take turns butt-fucking her. She wants it now, and every time a new cock plunges into her, there is another shudder against my hand. By the end of the scene, the girl on screen is smiling at the studs, the girl next to me is limp. She has been cumming for about 30 minutes now, and is close to passing out. She slumps against my shoulder and is out.