Megan snuggles into me as we walk to the elevator. I contemplate the ramifications of what I'm getting myself into, but she nudges me to stop thinking about it. Remnants of her intoxicating perfume waft up from her face against my chest.
As the elevator doors open, she steps in front of me, her back to me, reaches behind to grab my hands, and leads me in. As the doors close, she turns around and we kiss as I back her towards the wall.
I reach behind me, press the button, and swiftly pin her against the wall without actually slamming her into it. Megan whips up her legs around my lower back with that preying mantis prowess of hers, cinching extra tight with a little shimmy. This makes me want to stand with her in the middle of the elevator.
Other than her arms, she is free of the robe and devilishly rubs her pussy up and down the front of my pants. The provoking look on her face tells me she's marking her territory. That look breaks into laughing joy – her first real show of exuberance – as she watches for my (I thought) quite stoic, inscrutable non-response. Which, in itself, ultimately gives me away, as she seizes hold of my head, her nails digging hard into the back of it, and plants another feisty, tongue-probing kiss, her love area rubbing mine into a hardening recipient.
Softly, and so erogenously, in my right ear, Megan whispers, “Fuuuck, Micheal...I'm sooo fucking wet
“Micheal, my pussy, it's fucking dripping wet.”
“It's so sopping wet with my loving pussy juice for you, Micheal. You should be so honoured that you are making this girl get. So. Fucking. Wet
, my love.”
All I can do is look back into those big, brown eyes, framed by her raven-haired bob-cut, honeydripping with irresistible sex. She gives me a slower kiss this time, her fingers snaking through my hair. Those lips... so amazingly soft, sucking me right into her.
Megan hops off me as the elevator slows down its ascent. She ties up her robe just as the door opens, and leads me out, walking backwards, facing me.
“Come," my secretary of only two weeks says, and then turns around and – still in front of me – walks that swaggering butt-winking walk, her hands reaching behind, those long-nailed fingers flapping expectantly at me, to hold mine.
When I reach my hands out to hers, she grabs hard and yanks me forward, while at the same time backing her tush into my loins. This slightly doubles me over as she mischievously moulds us into a spoon position. Thankfully she didn't use any more force on this manoeuvre. Automatically I reach around to latch on to her tits, as she squirms her ass into my stiffening, throbbing rock of a groin. Megan's moisture finally makes contact, through my pants and boxers. I don't even want to look down.
“Uh tut-tut, Micheal... now, now... just because I'm churning up those balls so I have you almost at my beck and call now, sweetie.”
I don't know if I'm more flustered by the audacity of her comment, or from her slipping out of my almost-desperate embrace. The evil little pixie works my mind as much as my cock, setting off red flags, as well as an increased blood flow south.
She walks in front of me again, but reaches behind this time to unzip my fly. My precummed-and-Megan-cummed eight inches of rock hard manmeat are set free, out in the open, which she takes a hold of, turning it into a more-than-willing leash to lead me along. As Megan cock-leads her enamoured boss up to her door, she turns around to face me, and runs her nails up the side of my neck and head, sending me to that land of erogenous bliss.
“Micheal, what happens behind this closed door will always be between you and me, okay, and will be with you for the rest of your life.”
Her look, earnest and imploring, switches to sultry and scheming as she moves in for the closure kiss, running a black-polished thumb nail behind my right ear, giving me a zinging tingle down that side.
Inside – chrome and glass with a heavy black motif in the sleek furniture and cabinetry, contrasting with white walls – classic, narcissistic stockbroker spartan look. Megan takes me by my throbbing, bobbing, eight-inch man-leash and guides me to her bedroom with a bed that looks bigger than king size, with a black duvet.
And a white, fluffy cat on it.
“Oh, Tabitha, my pretty fluffy-lovey-luv!” says Megan as she scoops up the critter, which doesn't take its eyes off me.
“Oh, Micheal, isn't she just beautiful? Come... she's so soft.”
As Megan says this, she's getting all facey with the cat, who returns in kind by nuzzling Megan's cheek, but then looks at me again and stops purring as I approach. Slowly offering my hand, I let it suss me out.
“See, Tab? He smells nice too!”
The cat eventually responds by nuzzling Megan again, but watching me.
“See? Isn't she so adorable
After letting the cat spill onto the floor in a prancing arc of white fluff, Megan whips her robe off and walks toward me while I undo my pants. She button-rips my shirt off and notices how I watch in despair as the buttons go every which way.
“Don't worry, Micheal. White buttons on a black carpet. We'll find them, and then we can do some sewing afterwards!”
She stares a devouring stare that bores right through me and into the big bang of my subconsciousness, my very core. As we neck, her legs are up around my back again. My erection is squished up between us, which she proceeds to rub her wet pussy up and down on, nimbly greasing me up in no time.
“Oh, Micheal,” she says, and looks at me as she gives the head of my cock a nice, moist, fingerless massage. Her wet labia ensnare my throbbing dickhead with slow gyrations, holding just the tip of it, and instead of applying the usual downward pressure, she instead does tiny, infinitesimal, upward motions, as though trying to coax my already erect-as-shit erection to stand up even higher than it already can. With each and every little grazing upwards shimmy, her moist snatch draws me, lures me, further up, up towards the goal.
“Oh, Micheal, I like to tease, okay? I also like my cocks as large as possible, and that's why I'm doing this to you. Oh – and also – to fuck with you, okay?”
“It's all right, baby. Just give in to the sweet addiction of my pussy-power, okay babes?”
At that, Megan suddenly relaxes herself so that all of my entire cock is inside her. But after only three fuck-pumps, she hops off me and flies onto the bed, her back to me, and goes almost into the splits. Her face and forearms are on the pillow so that her pussy and ass are slightly raised, asking to be seriously dealt with.
“Before you fuck this, Micheal, do you absolutely promise
me that you have visually worshipped this, committed it to memory, and will think about it next time you cum inside your wife?”
After a considerable pause she impatiently shakes that god-(or satan?)-given creation up and down at me.
“Yes, Megan, I promise.”
“Mmm, I like that, Micheal. Okay, jussec.”
From the headboard shelf in front of her she grabs a small bottle of oil, and, maintaining that absurdly bangable position, pours liberal amounts of it down her back, her ass, and down her the back of her thighs. Eating pillow, she reaches back and runs her hands all over her ass, spreading the gooey, glistening oil all over, running her greasy fingers up and down her pussy and ass cracks. The wet sounds are nice.
As she's doing all this, she says, “Okay, hold on, Micheal. I want you to really look at what I'm doing. I wanna show off what you're gonna be thinking about, a lot more often now. Especially when I spread 'em wide, like this, right? I'm grabbin' good and hard like this, Micheal, stretching it sooo wide, so you get a good look at that shiny, stretched-out piece of skin between my pussy and ass... sacred real estate, the kind that guys go into crime for to get a second chance to feast... and lick... and love, Micheal.”
Trying to filter out the plural reference (as well as the going-into-crime-for stuff), I'm almost hypnotized by the slow, easy way she dazzlingly slicks herself up into a wildly glistening sex machine of destruction.
“And look how stretched out my pussy-lips and butthole are... black holes to suck you in so that you disappear... right up in them. Sorta like how Dave, Raphael and Marco have disappeared up in them, too.”
The bomb lands with devastating impact, as Megan cranes her head further back to look at me more intensely. If I had known my associates had been there first, I would have been able to easily blow her off. My erection starts to subside. Maintaining that near-splits position, Megan bobs that ass up and down at me.
“Oh that's so cute. Micheal. You actually are
jealous. Awww. Even though you're fuckin' around on your wife right now which should probably make the whole jealousy thing kinda moot. Anyway, you have the nicest penis and the nicest body and the best humping capability, well, so far, anyway. What happened between us down at the gym only scratched the surface, I think, and I'm sure there's a lot more...untapped potential, Micheal. So much more, to tap.”
Flexing her open sex at me, Megan pours more oil down her backside, slicking up the huge, green, winding serpent tattoo that takes up the majority of her back. She bobs up and down with those wide open legs with hard jerks on the downthrust, redirecting my blood flow, making me want to get under that.
“Mmmmm that's more like it, Micheal. Who cares about them, right? Just because they can't stop texting the shit out of me now. Offering me out to dinner, buying these orchids.” (On headboard shelf, her face only a few feet away from them.)
Before I can entertain the idea of tefloning that comment, she smacks her ass hard. The sudden, wet smacking sound is like an unexpected slap in the face. The gobs and gobs of oil are slathered on her brilliantly glistening temple of a body. More spanks.
"Poor Marco, already talking about ditching his fiancee. And get this - he liked my descriptions of beaches in the Seychelles so much that now he wants to take me there! He's such a puppy. At one one point he ev-”
Her baiting is cut short by its intended result as I get on the bed and go down on my knees and pull her thighs towards my hard-on. With that sweet ass mounted high, her greased-up gateways allow me a running start, and I plunk it nice and deep in her pussy with little resistance, my balls slamming hard against that tight little spinner ass.
She reaches beneath her and tantalizingly tickles my nuts as I repeatedly ram her face into the pillow. I love how the oil allows for super loud, wet smacking – the kind of loud fuck smacking at 3:30 am that doesn't always go over well with apartment neighbours.
Megan takes note of me looking around as I ease up on the smacking, and tells me, “These concrete walls are a mile thick, the door is soundproofed. Fuck me hard and fuck me loud, and do it now
I comply with hard, driving ball smacks, pummeling Megan with all my eight inches, piledriving into her as deep as I can. It feels so good grabbing onto her perfect, tight little ass. With each fuckthrust I slam into her, my resolve grows – in spite of myself – to prove to this incredibly fine little gamine that I can show her who the true bull in the office is.
My fingers in her hair get a good hard grip and pull her head back without yanking too hard, while smacking her ass hard a couple times with the other hand. My fuck-slamming loins against her ass are making some of the loudest fuck-slams I think I've ever heard. Maybe because of all that oil.
Slipping away from my cock as well as my grasp, she says, patting the pillow, “Lie down.”
Happy to oblige, I'm flat on my back as she mounts me. Her moist labia on my cock feel spectacular, getting me rock solid for her cajoling descent, gyrating. As I start to enter, she pulls out, again, to slap-slap-slap my erection against her wet meat before popping it back in again.
Staring me down on the full descent, Megan says, “Micheal, I like your arms,” and begins to ride me with a serpentine rocking-forward and back motion. Grabbing both my wrists, she guides my arms so that my hands are up behind my head, past the pillow, and before I know it, she has thrown handcuffs on me.
“Oh, Tabitha, look! Look what I brought home! Isn't he cute? He feels sooo good in me, too.”
I don't even bother testing the strength of whatever it is that the handcuffs are attached to. I look past her and out the door and see the fucking cat on top of the couch in the main room. Looking at us. Megan squats on me, her hands on her knees, riding me with imperious, seductive grace, her petite body undulating like waves in the ocean.
“Oh, Micheal, what am I gonna do
with you... oh, wait – I know.”
For the umpteenth time Megan whips herself off me and trots into the main room, petting kitty on the way by. She returns with her smartphone, and aims it at me. She sees my displeasure with my flaccidity and corrects this with soft, teasing strokes up and down my immediately re-hardening shaft while tickling my nuts.
“Mmm that's better. Just work with me. You're a part of my stable, now, Micheal. You, Dave, Raphael, and poor, poor pussywhipped Marco.”
“Oh and Micheal?”
“I have a confession to make that I didn't let on to you earlier.”
“Marco's cock is longer and thicker than yours, and he also can't wait to see the day when he's replaced you.”
Megan took photos from different angles – lying down next to me, on top of me, on my face, the fucking cat next to me, close-ups of her black nail-polished hands around my hard-on, from the foot of the bed.
“Oh, and also, I'm the most high maintenance bitch you will ever meet, Micheal. Like, I'm really greedy, and so I hope that you, and that throbbing erection of yours, understand where this is going, but first things first, since I have you right where I want you...”
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with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.
<a href="https://www.lushstories.com/stories/straight-sex/maneater-megan-part-ii-1.aspx">Maneater Megan part II</a>