How to Choose a Secretary, Chapter 8

Mike could only stand there, steadying himself on the handrail of the staircase, as Sara hung on him: one hand on his cock, one strong little hand round his shoulder, and her gorgeous, irresistible thighs wrapped round one of his legs.

His cock had swelled, sensitive as ever, and was taking over his brain functions like it had so often before. He had cum a few times today it was true, he couldn’t think exactly how many times just at the moment, but not since watching the last sex between Sara and the beautiful Natasha. He was vulnerable. On top of which, Sara would not be easy to dislodge without force.

“Sara!” He whispered desperately, trying to do the right thing nevertheless. “We can’t! Not here. Your parents could see us any second.”

Too late, he realised the fatal flaw in his argument. “Come up, then,” Sara was on it instantly, her trap closing, “they can’t see us up there.” It was obvious that if they went up a few steps then the building would hide them from the house. “Come on,” she repeated, dropping off him and starting to unbutton her blouse in full view of the windows.

Mike hastily grabbed her arm and rushed with her half way up the steps. As he slowed Sara got hold of his hand, the hand on the rail side, and kept going, towing him off-balance up the remaining steps to the platform outside the door of her annex. Well she’d said she had an annex; amazing for a girl barely 16 years old to have such a thing, Mike thought, but before he could pursue the thought any further she’d pulled him into a deep kiss, leaning against the door.

Her fragrance, her hands on his neck, her pelvis rubbing against him, and her sheer will robbed him of his capacity to resist. He let her undo his shirt and peel it off, then his trousers – there was nothing on his mind but wanting to feel her little hand directly on his cock. He found just enough spare attention to tread on the backs of his shoes to get them off, and on the toes of his socks to pull them off too. Sara was pulling down his briefs with her familiar expertise.

He stepped out of them, looking down at Sara’s face now level with his rampant cock. Had she sucked him, up to now? He couldn’t remember. Now, anyway, she licked the head slowly, all over, holding his shaft with the fingertips of both hands. Then she licked her lips, put them onto his cock head, and slid them slowly over the surface as she took him into her mouth.

No, Mike knew now, he hadn’t experienced this before, ever. He felt her tongue press his glans onto the roof of her mouth, then drag it along. Another few of those and he’d be cumming, but Sara had just been keeping him rooted to the spot while she stripped herself. She stood up and in a moment she was nude, reaching for him with her fingers.

The warmth of her body in the cool evening air was electrifying. He lifted her, felt her thighs open and entered her all in a second, their bodies aligned in every way.

Mike tried to sense what Sara wanted, hard and fast or slow and gentle, or what. He kissed her neck, holding his lips there, listening to her breathing, and tuning in to the feelings from her hands: one on his neck and one round his back. Not to forget, he thought with a smile to himself, the world’s most communicative pussy.

He pressed his cock in deep and held it there. He was feeling no frustration from Sara, more like contentment. He slid it slowly almost out, held it there for a second, and then just as slowly slid it back in, deep. She sighed. Her body was relaxed, almost, her pussy a glove with no urgency to it. OK. He carried on, fucking her slowly and gently, moving his hands under her to keep his grip comfortable. He put his nose to her ear and breathed in and out, then in her hair.

Time passed in mild ecstasy, Mike thinking to himself how each moment was worth a life all by itself.

“Mike,” he heard her say, bringing him out of the dreamy state he’d been in for some time, “I want you to do something.”

“What’s that?” he asked, still a bit out of it.

“It’s something a bit weird, in a way, but it’s important to me.”

Mike suddenly had the same feeling he’d had before Sara had announced she wanted to tie him up. It was something risky.

“I want you to take me down on the lawn and finish me there.”

“Jesus Sara,” Mike was stunned, “you are kidding.”

It brought him back to reality with a bump. He looked around, seeing that the garden below was just faintly illuminated by the street lamps now, shining over the wall. The sky was dark. He could see the roofs of neighboring houses but their windows were screened by the trees that bordered Sara’s garden. Just as well, he thought: he hadn’t even looked around when they’d started.

“On the lawn?” he was still incredulous. They’d escaped from there together in a rush, and for a jolly good reason. “Why?”

“I can’t really explain,” answered Sara, “it’s something I just really want. I don’t know, it’s my independence or something, the end of being a little girl, I’m not sure. I know it doesn’t make sense.” She smiled at him and hugged him, he could feel her fingers moving on his neck. “Please.”

Mike tried to think. Was it a test? Or was she planning to get them caught to precipitate some change of relationship with her parents? Or what? Was it about her trusting him?

“What time is it?” he said, knowing Sara didn’t know either, since neither of them wore a watch. “What time do they go to bed?”

“They go really early,” she said. “You can do it can’t you? I’m not that heavy.”

50 kilos, reckoned Mike, thinking about it. Down the steps. In the nude with his cock in her. Would it stay hard, and in her? It was a challenge in several ways, and one of the ways was its sheer gratuitousness. But did he want to say no? In his younger days he’d have done it, for sure. Physically it would have been no problem at all then, he could hold a crucifix on the rings at one time.

It came down to this: did he want his relationship with Sara to get closer, or not? Easy answer then, really, after all. He took a fresh hold of his teen sexpot and turned towards the steps.

Sara pulled herself to him with her legs, and clung on round his neck, as Mike took the steps one at a time, one hand on the rail and the other pulling her pelvis securely onto his cock. It was slow but they arrived safely at the bottom, and he walked out onto the lawn with the teenage daughter of the house still nakedly impaled on his big middle-aged cock. He checked the windows: there were no lights on that he could see.

The grass was dewy - either he or Sara was going to get a cold shock, he realised. Well, it was time for him to live a little, he laughed quietly to himself. He was finding that the tension was quite exhilarating, in a way.

Sara giggled in his ear, then in a voice that sounded terribly loud she called “Help! Daddy! Daddy!”

Mike was so on edge he had dropped down into a crouch before his brain caught up – she was loud right in his ear but not loud at any distance. Joke! So this was her plan, the little minx, the absolute little … he couldn’t think of a word. Superminx! was the best he could do, for now. He had to admit it worked on him, though, the fantasy she’d just created was hotter than hot.

He rolled backwards onto his back, carrying the giggling superminx with him. Daddy would not get to save her.

In the quick crouch his cock had almost, but not quite, pulled out of Sara’s pussy. The cold shock of the dew lent impetus to his fucking as he shoved his cock back in, deep into the farthest reaches of her cunt, which was now tight and active and creamy. No more soft glove, it was the strong, gripping cock-squeezer that (in Mike’s mind at least) only Sara possessed. He held her by her shoulders and thrust upwards, lifting her bodily off the grass, knees and all, with each ramming stroke. He faintly felt her hands round his neck and heard her laughing and gasping.

Sara sat up, her hands on his chest, as she rode the bucking bronco that Mike had become, even her firm little tits jiggling around with the wild action; he was literally bouncing her. She hung on for quite a few thrusts and then she leant forwards over him, her hair falling over his face. They were there. With a grunt far louder than he wanted, Mike started cumming into her pulsating pussy, pulling her to him, listening to her matching gasps and groans in his ear. They jerked and spasmed together for a few seconds, ten, twenty, he couldn’t tell, then lay still. He laughed quietly with her. Jesus Christ.

Sara slid off him and stood up, her movement fluid and effortless. Mike stood up next to her, grateful she hadn’t offered him a hand. She immediately hugged him, her little hands gliding lightly up and down his wet back.

“Mike you’re so gorgeous, I can’t believe you’re here.” They went back up to her door together, Sara touching him all the way, and picked up their clothes. Mike was thinking he couldn’t believe he was here, either. The other bit, he’d have to think about.

Suddenly, he felt cold. The sex was over and he was shivering, out of energy completely. The air was chilly, he was half wet, naked, in someone else’s garden. The day was hard to recollect, it had been so intense, so utterly different and unexpected, the array of incredible sex and intimacy was all jumbled up in his mind. Was it still even Monday, in fact? What about food, it must be ages since he’d eaten. He was disorientated. He felt an overwhelming need to be at home.

But when Sara opened the door and ushered him inside with her warm little hand, he went in. It wasn’t home but it was right here, it was warm, and he trusted her. Before he knew it he was in the shower with her and he was warming up, her lovely smooth body was nudging and rubbing against him, and her affectionate little hands were washing him all over. He started to wash her in return, feeling her firm, muscular shoulders, but he was slower and impeding her, so he gave it up and just stood still while she tended to him. She kept him in the hot spray till he was warm, then kissed him and turned it off.

They dried themselves and Mike looked around. It was a bedsit, not very big and with a ceiling that sloped down on either side, but nicely finished and furnished. It was exactly the way it ought to be, somehow. Very Sara. There was a sink in one corner with a microwave on a fridge. The en-suite where they’d just showered, opposite. Small desk with a laptop on it. A good-sized TV facing a small sofa, and a bed. A double bed. How had she persuaded her parents to put that in? Everything was new and of good quality. No hint of any siblings, so far. All the ingredients for a spoiled little rich girl in fact, he mused, if she hadn’t had such character.

“We need to eat,” said Sara, preempting a dilemma that was just getting started in Mike’s mind. She came up to him and put her arm round him. They were both still naked, glowing from the shower. “Fish?” He smiled and nodded absently, not fully taking it in. He’d noticed the time on her clock radio by the bed – almost ten o’clock. He had to call his wife.

He got his phone out of his trousers, sat on the edge of the bed and fiddled with it while he wrestled with the issues.

First decision: he was going to call her in front of Sara. Sara knew he’d lied to his wife already and at least this way he could be honest and open with somebody.

Next: when was he going to get home? He didn’t know. Could he leave himself the option either way? So far, his wife thought he was out having a meal with some buyers. Really he ought to go home: he loved her, they had a very old and affectionate relationship. In her time she, like Sara, had cut through his awkward secretiveness and let him be himself with her. Though she hadn’t done it with such total force. But still, she was special.

The thing was, she was 50, she’d gone the way most women go at that age - put on a bit, lost her shape a bit, gone through menopause and lost her sexuality and her interest in it. It wasn’t a problem as such, but sex wasn’t part of their relationship any more. They were affectionate, they kissed a lot, touched a lot, but they no longer fucked.

And now here was Sara, and that intensity of a sexual relationship was here for him again.

Sara had sat down next to him. “You can stay if you like, you know that don’t you? Or not, you know…if you don’t want to fib to her or something.”

“No,” said Mike, “I don’t want to lie to her. I love her.” He looked into Sara’s grey eyes. “But at the same time, the person I most want to be with tonight, specifically, is you.”

“Yes, well…” Sara was working on it , “but there’s a space that I can be in, isn’t there? A space she doesn’t need, I mean, if you could explain that, she’d understand in a way, if you know what I mean, wouldn’t she? But you can’t because she wouldn’t share you. I can get that, nobody would share you if they could help it. Except me, of course.” She laughed, breaking the tension.

“I’m not competing with her. I just fancy you, that’s it.” She smiled, stroking his back. “If we were the same age, it might be different, probably, but, you know, I’m sixteen, I’m living in the moment like Martine and Mickey said I ought to. I wanna fuck you so that’s what I’m doing.” She grinned. “I turned up for a job, there were you and Tashie, in the same place, I couldn’t believe it. “

“Mum and Dad said I had to work for a year, after being chucked out and everything, before I go to college. I thought well, boooring but OK. Then there you were, I thought ‘fuck me!’ and you did.” She giggled, gave him a big smile, kissed him, and went back over to the microwave.

Mike knew what he wanted to do now. He called his wife, trying to sound a bit drunk, and said it was going so well with the buyers he wanted to keep going with them, drink, and stay in their hotel for the night, was that OK? It was a relationship thing, people buy people, you know. His wife was her usual caring, supportive self and he ended the call feeling better about it, with only a twinge of guilt. Well if she knew, he thought putting a seal on it, she’d rather have a philanderer for a husband than a pervert. And Sara was converting him from one to the other at a rate of knots.

There was just one more thing. “Sara,” he asked, “do your mum and dad come in here?”

“Never,” she said, “that was part of the deal. That I’d start behaving better and they’d give me space. It was last year, I was awful, all of a sudden. Awful to them. But not any more.” She smiled again. “I don’t know what it was, they went to see lots of people about it, but everything’s cool again now anyway; apart from school, you know, and even then Dad made me a gym out of the stable.” Her eyes indicated the floor and Mike realised it must be on the ground floor below. “’Cos I can’t use the school gym any more, obviously, and gyms you can join don’t have the bars and rings and everything,” she finished the explanation. She was dishing up.

They ate quickly, both of them needing the fuel. It was healthy eating, Mike noticed: fish, vegetables and bread, with no salt that he could taste, as prescribed by Mickey and Martine no doubt. He smiled at the thought, or maybe she was into that already before she got into that sexy relationship with them. Anyway it all fitted together: Sara radiated health, her skin was perfect, no teenage spots for her, just a silky glow, with her tan.

They finished the meal and Sara put the plates in the sink, Mike watching her sexy little body walk across the room and back. He nudity was so natural, he hardly noticed it now. Her little blonde bush was quite sparse, and a touch darker than her hair.

He felt sleepy, the food taking effect as the many climactic events of the day caught up with him again. He made himself get up and go over to the en-suite, Sara telling him to use her toothbrush, if he wanted. He had a pee, did his teeth, then went back and got into bed. Sara’s bed, he marveled. By the time Sara had done the same and got in next to him, he was almost asleep.

‘Sex is all about motivation’ was the saying that came into his mind as Sara’s gorgeous warm body came into contact with him. The lure of sleep disappeared in a flash and his being was taken over by a desperate need to fuck her. After all it had been a long fuck outside with only one orgasm.

She slid a gorgeous thigh over him, rolled him onto his back, and straddled him. She lay down on him, her weight too sexy to resist. His cock was hard, ready to go once again.

This time Sara did the fucking, her strong thighs lifting her up and down and her mobile pelvis helping to slide his cock in and out of her pussy. It was slow, deliciously slow, the pace intensely arousing but not enough to make him come anytime soon.

He looked her over, his gaze taking in her hair, her gorgeous face intent and slightly in another world with the fuck, her slender neck, broad shoulders and pert little tits. He couldn’t raise the effort to lift his head to look further down her body, so he closed his eyes and ran his fingertips slowly all over her, feeling by touch a new picture of the sexy teenage girl. The picture was the same, but different. His fingertips ran up her thighs, over her hips, up the sides of her waist and chest, onto her shoulders and down her arms to her hands, now planted on his chest. He started again on her face, her chin, cheekbones, round her eyes, up into her hair and down over her ears. Little ears, very nicely shaped he thought. Then he stroked her hair for a while.

After a while, her pace increased, she was moving faster and she was landing with a thump on each down stroke. Mike could have carried on at the pace but Sara’s pussy was tightening, getting grippy and vibrating, and then his cock soared into another shared orgasm, pumping yet more of his sperm into her eager, spasming pussy. He pressed upwards into her, held it for a few seconds, and flopped back. In seconds he was fast asleep under her.

At various times during the night Mike woke with Sara on him or pulling him onto her. Every time the touch of her, the scent of her, brought his cock up and he fucked her, or was fucked by her. There was one long fuck, he thought, and maybe a couple of short ones. Or it could have been three. They always orgasmed together anyway - no need for any separate counting, at least, he thought with a smile.

In between, he slept deeply.