Message-ID: <43725asstr$1059786605@assm.asstr-mirror.org> X-Originating-Email: [david_altaire@hotmail.com] From: "David Altaire" X-Original-Message-ID: X-OriginalArrivalTime: 01 Aug 2003 16:41:49.0649 (UTC) FILETIME=[CDE2CC10:01C3584B] X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Fri, 01 Aug 2003 12:41:49 -0400 Subject: {ASSM} Sarah 3/? {David Altaire} (MF, slutgf, rom, light bd, humil, anal, exhib) Date: Fri, 1 Aug 2003 21:10:05 -0400 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: dennyw, hecate Chapter 3 of the "Sarah" saga--again, while this story will stand alone in a pinch, it's not meant to. So if you want to really understand what's going on, it would behoove you to read the first two chapters first. If you're just looking for the sex, you'll need to scroll down a bit, but it's there. As in the first two sections, this work is entirely fictional. And of course, we have to take care of the standard disclaimers. This is story depicting various sexual acts between consenting adults. If you are not of the legal age to read such accounts in your region, then make sure that nobody is watching before you scroll down. If you cannot legally read sexually explicit tales at any age in your hometown, bookmark this document, move, and then read on. The character of Sarah behaves in some very unsafe manners in this story, particularly in having unprotected sex with strangers. Remember, this is *fantasy*--it's fine to fantasize about porking some random person on the streets, but actually doing so in real life is just plain stupid, especially if you don't use any form of protection. Fictional characters don't have to worry about HIV and other sexually transmitted diseases. We do. The author (that's me) hereby grants any and all readers the right to freely download this story for their own private use, and to maintain a stored copy in electronic or paper form for the same. Archivists may display this work on their own sites, provided that full access to their archived works is granted free of charge, and this introductory message is left attached in its entirety to the story. Under no circumstances may this work be displayed on any site which requires persons to pay for membership or accepts paid advertising, even if the story is displayed in a free or "preview" portion of the website, without the prior expressed consent of the author. -David Altaire Comments/suggestions/hate mail are always welcome at: David_Ataire@hotmail.com _________________________________________________________________ The new MSN 8: advanced junk mail protection and 2 months FREE* http://join.msn.com/?page=features/junkmail <1st attachment, "Sarah03.txt" begin> In the first two chapters of my tale about Sarah and I, I shared with you the story of how we met and fell in love, along with some of Sarah's more memorable sluttish exploits since we've been together. I also tried to explain a little about our relationship with each other, as well as a bit about my wonderful girlfriend's inner makeup--why she does the things she does, why it turns us both on so much when she fucks around with other men, and why trust and love have never been a problem between us. But as we passed over the 6 month mark and hit the downhill slope towards our one year anniversary, things were less than perfect. I suppose that some of the newness was wearing off, and as we grew more and more comfortable with each other, we grew less and less likely to overlook minor things like forgetting to stop for milk or smoking the last cigarette without buying another pack. We never had any major blowouts and we never parted company mad, but there was a little bit of the every day bickering which is present in any close relationship. For Sarah, it was just that she hated winter. As the weather got colder, she was less able to wear the skimpy lightweight clothes that she usually decked herself out in, and thus less able to flaunt her incredible body to others. It also cuts down on her ability to go out and get fucked at random, both because of the less revealing clothing and because ducking out the back door of a bar for a quickie isn't really an option when the wind chill is below zero. While the two of us still shared a great sex life and she was quick to point out that she was getting more and better sex by being with me than she normally would during the colder months, it was obvious that her inability to be as spontaneous and shocking in public was a downer for my Sarah. As for me, my mood was directly attributable to my job. I hated work with a passion rivaled only by my love for Sarah, and just like my feelings for my slutty little girlfriend, my hatred for work seemed to grow even greater every single day. I won't bore you with the details of my job, other than to say that I spent my days sitting in front of a computer terminal in a tiny cubicle, doing the same thing over and over and over again, with my only reward for a job well done being that I didn't have one or more supervisors chewing me out for screwing up. Many of you know exactly what I'm talking about, and for the rest of you, I hope you never learn about it. I supposedly only had one direct supervisor, but that didn't stop any number of people who stood one or more rungs above me on the corporate ladder from stopping by to remind me of every mistake I ever made. It's a very sad day when you realize that your life is out of options--for better or worse, you have made the decisions already which will affect everything you do from this day forward. You've chosen your major in college, if you chose to attend college at all, and you've tied yourself to a career with some huge company which doesn't even know you exist unless you're about to be fired. It's too late to go back to school and start a new career and you don't have the financial security to retire, so you're haunted day and night by the knowledge that you still have decades of this shit to put up with. That was the mindset that I was in when I met Sarah. For a while, the mere presence of Sarah in my life was enough to take my mind away from my lack of job fulfillment, but as the months flew by and I became more and more used to having her around, I began to focus again on my professional life, and it dragged me down even deeper than I had been before. I made pretty good money, and between that and the money Sarah received from her father we were doing well enough financially, but it got harder and harder for me to don the coat and tie every morning and stagger out the door, even knowing that my loving girlfriend would be waiting for my return that evening. It finally came to a head just before Christmas, when I tried to opt out of a promised night on the town with Sarah, after yet another bad day at work. "I'm sick of this, Josh!", she told me. "I love you, and I love being with you, but I want to be able to go out with you again, and I hate seeing you just mope around the apartment all night because of some crap or whatever at work." "Sarah...look, you want me to go out tonight, fine. But I'm going to be an even bigger damper on your fun if I'm there." I knew it wasn't fair to her either way, but that's just how I felt. "I don't want you pissed off about it, period!", she yelled. We rarely raised our voices in anger or frustration, but it did sometimes happen. "I want you to get over it! God, it's only a fucking job!!" "I can't just snap my fingers and be like, 'oh, work sucked today and yesterday, and it'll probably suck tomorrow, but that's fine'!" "Well if you hate the fucking job so much, why don't you just quit?" She stared at me defiantly, daring me to argue. I took the bait. "I can't just *quit*, Sarah!" "Why not?" "Because--", and I stopped. Why not, indeed? I hated my job, that much was obvious. The money was nice, but it wasn't essential to our survival. And it certainly wasn't like I was in line for any big promotion somewhere down the road. "You can't even think of a single reason, can you?" Sarah was smirking a bit, well aware that she had won the argument before it even began. She sat down, patting the couch beside her lightly to beckon me over. I sat, and her voice turned softer. "Josh, I get more than enough money from my esteemed father to support us. Sure, maybe we won't be able to afford to eat out in expensive restaurants so much or go to some big play, but that's okay. I want *you*; I want the old Josh back, the one who couldn't stop smiling whenever he looked at me, the one who loved to go out barhopping with me and watch me while I flashed my pussy at people. The one who was fun to be with." She let that last sentence hang on the air, along with its implication that I was no longer fun to be around. And I knew that it was true--that I was so busy fretting over work on a daily basis that I hardly ever did anything with Sarah anymore, to the point where even our sex was starting to become a routine. A very satisfying routine, to say the least, but still a routine, no longer filled with the bouyant spontaneity which had made our relationship so uniquely rewarding in months past. "I don't know, Sarah. I mean, I've always had a job; I wouldn't know what to do with myself without one. And besides, what if...what if things didn't work out between us, one day?" I hated to even voice that possibility, unthinkable as it was. "Are you really worried about that, Josh?" "No," I admitted sheepishly. "What have you always wanted to be?" "A writer." She already knew the answer, had seen some of my scribblings before. "So be a writer, baby." "It's not that easy, Sarah. I mean, you can't just decide to be a writer and suddenly have a best seller; you have to find a publisher who's willing to put out your work, and who's willing and able to promote it, and then you have to hope that people will actually want to buy it...hell, it's as likely that I'll win the lottery as be able to make a living writing." "Josh," she said, her voice carrying a tenderness almost akin to a mother's, "I'll worry about the bills. You don't have to worry about making money, just about doing what you want to do. Everyone has the same chance of winning the lotto because it's totally random, but you're a good writer--not everybody is. You can do it, Josh." People were always telling me that I was a good writer, and I suppose that on some level I believed it. The problem was, no publishers were ever telling me that I was good. Okay, so I'd never actually submitted any of my work *to* a publisher at that point, but I never bought lotto tickets either--that didn't mean that I couldn't complain about not winning. She saw the hesitation on my face. "Let me do this for you, Josh, please. Let me do it for us." And I couldn't argue with the sacred "us", even if I'd wanted to. We both wound up staying in that night, her leaning over my shoulder and helping as I drew up my two week notice for the company. Actually, as we drew up two of them--one cloaked in business-ese, filled with catch-phrases like "my personnel business opportunities" and "lack of opportunities for advancement", which I planned to actually use; and another one which stated in plain English exactly what I thought about the company and why I was quitting. Let me tell you, it's very theraputic. I turned it in the next morning, and wasn't very suprised when my boss just gave it a quick once-over and grunted an okay. I felt worlds better immediately, though, and it translated quickly into a much happier and closer relationship with Sarah. We went out that night and closed the bars, spending the night fucking our brains out back at our place before I crawled out the door on one hour's sleep for a last day of work before the weekend. The following Friday was the company Christmas party, which I had intended to just skip because of my impending separation from the office. But Sarah wanted to go, said that she wanted to finally meet some of the people who had made my life such a living hell, and she eventually talked me into it. Even as I drove home Friday evening I still wasn't convinced that it was such a good idea, though. At that point, I had three days left at work, so I wasn't particularly worried about Sarah causing a scene with my coworkers which would lead to any recriminations or embarassment the following Monday. But I did fret over it just a little; Sarah was her own woman, and I wouldn't even think of asking her to tone her usual self down even slightly for my officemates. However, I was a bit nervous over what they would think of her and our relationship, these people that I had shared a coffeemaker and break room with for 6 years. Mainly, the thing that worried me was Rich. Rich was the kind of guy that you just instinctively hate. He had started at the company a full year after I did, but while I had languished at the bottom levels of the corporate chain, he had almost immediately begun his climb upwards. He wasn't my boss, not technically, but he was a supervisor in an area that my work wound up in, and he wasn't at all hesitant to come directly to me with any problems he had with my work. He wasn't an ass about it, which would have been easier to deal with--he was incredibly friendly and condescending towards me, as if he felt that his mere presence at my cubicle should make my entire week. I hated everything about Rich--from his short blonde hair, closely cropped into a fashionable business 'do at some salon that charged $250 per cut, to his perfect smile with the gleaming white teeth, to his well-tailored and expensive suits, to his sporty foreign luxury car which sat parked in executive territory in the garage. He had "corporate bigshot" written all over his face, even if he didn't know half as much as I did about what the company actually did. Rich was also a womanizer of the first degree, going through a variety of office temps, model and actress wannabees, and anything else that looked cute in a skirt and could be easily seduced by the appearance of wealth. And so I knew that it would only be a matter of time at the party before he set his sights on my beautiful girlfriend, who was almost always willing to spread her legs for any man who caught her eye. I didn't even mention Rich to Sarah, because I don't like to limit her in any way; I never have. I knew that if I told her not to fuck him, she wouldn't do it. But at the same time, I knew that I'd have to explain certain things about myself to her because of it--not that she'd ask or expect me to, but because I'd feel obligated to. Okay, so I admit it--I had an inferiority complex where Rich was concerned; he was everything that you're supposed to be in the corporate world, while I most certainly was not, and for years I'd seen one pretty woman after another stop by his office for a quick chat, while I floundered alone and single. The thought that he would be fucking my Sarah disturbed me in a way that nothing else could, no matter that Sarah fucked a lot of other guys, and that we both got off on that fact. So I was understandably nervous when I got back to the apartment that evening, and was then flabbergasted when I saw Sarah, already dressed and ready to go. If you've read the first two chapters of this tale, you know that Sarah loves to dress in blatantly slutty clothing; she enjoys flauntering her sexuality to other people, shocking them as often as she can. Her entire wardrobe is filled with tiny skirts, high heels, see through blouses, and anything else you can imagine which an exhibitionistic tramp would want to wear. I had almost dreaded seeing what she'd picked out for tonight, but I certainly wasn't prepared for what I saw. Sarah looked...beautiful! Her hair was actually styled, instead of quickly brushed into something approaching a hairdo, and her makeup was applied far more subtly than I'd ever seen on her before a night out. Her dress was modestly cut, pale green in color, rising to a demure vee which showed just the slightest hint of cleavage at the top, and falling to a hair above her knees, the skirt cut in a business look. She wore a pair of white three inch pumps along with matching stockings (Sarah doesn't own a single pair of pantyhose, so if I see nylon, I know they're stockings), with a simple gold chain around her neck and small faux-diamond studs in her ears. In other words, she looked just like a particularly beautiful PTA mom who decided to dress just a little bit sexily for a big party. She saw me gawking at her and laughed. "I bought it today, just for the party. Do you like it?" She gave me a brief twirl, confirming that there was no hidden slit or bizarre cut to undermine the demure look. "You look....gorgeous! It's just..." "Not like something I'd wear?", she finished, laughing sweetly. I nodded. "Even if you're quitting, these are still your friends and coworkers, honey. I'm going to be a good girl tonight--*your* good girl." Sarah insisted that I change into something which went a little better with her own dress, but we were back on the familiar route to my office about half an hour later. The party was centered on one of the lower management levels, where there was far more floor and table space than in the land of the cubicles where I toiled daily. I quickly found us to be the center of attention, or more accurately, Sarah to be at the center of all the single (and many of the married) mens' attention. Even dressed as modestly as she was that night, she still caught the eye the way that any beautiful woman does, and despite her honest attempts to appear the prototypical sweet girlfriend, she was still surrounded by some kind of invisible slutty aura. We'd been there for about an hour, during which I'd been drawn into a conversation about the coming NFL playoffs and Sarah had excused herself to find a topic she more enjoyed (Sarah may be the perfect woman in nearly every other way, but she doesn't like football). I finally begged out of the debate on the Jets' chances to first visit the restroom, and then find my girl. The primary task completed, I scanned the area for Sarah's blonde hair and lilting voice, and came up empty. As I wandered the party to look more carefully, I couldn't help but cast an eye around for Rich, who was in attendence, and felt a pit in my stomach when I realized that he, too, seemed to have vanished. I commanded myself to calm down and go back to the party--Sarah had fucked many other men since we'd started dating, all with my genuine approval, and if nothing else I could look forward to an excellent fuck when we got home later. Who was I to get upset over her fucking one more man, even if I did hate and secretly envy him? I had just rejoined the football talk when I felt a tap on my shoulder. "Come here," Sarah whispered into my ear playfully, "I have something I want to show you." I had a sinking feeling that what she wanted to show me was her freshly fucked pussy, but I followed her as she led me first to the stairwell and then up two floors, into upper management territory. "Where are we going?", I asked at her incessant urging. "It's a suprise," she teased. "I left something up here that I thought you might enjoy." "We're not supposed to be up here," I hissed at her when she opened the door and led me onto the darkened floor, steering us quickly toward an open doorway. "Trust me," she smiled, and I did, as I always have. We stepped into what was obviously an executive boardroom, a huge oak table dominating the center of the floor with a large, matching lectern set to one end, in front of a video screen. Plush, high-backed leather chairs surrounded the tabletop, a bank of windows lining the far wall and all the lights off. I turned to her to ask what she wanted to show me, here, when I heard a muffled exclamation coming from the dark. Sarah giggled when my jaw dropped, my eyes finally adjusting to the dark and locking onto a shape huddled deep into the far corner of the room. "What the...?" Sarah scampered over to the corner, turning the closest chair to face the dim figure and plopping down happily onto the leather seat. "He tried to seduce me," she explained, "and I guess I kind of flirted back a little. But then he said something about you that I didn't like, so I decided to turn things around once we got up here." It was, of course, Rich; his tie wrapped around his head and serving as a gag, his pants piled down around his ankles, and his arms raised above and behind him, wrists handcuffed to an electrical conduit above the thermostat on the wall. "What did he say?", I stammered, trying not to laugh at his struggling form and panicked eyes. She laughed for me. "Do you really want to know?" "Yeah." "He said that he could understand why a woman like me would want another cock if I was dating you." She paused to smile tauntingly at him when he tried to blurt something, probably a denial, through the tie/gag. "I told him that you're a better fuck than he could possibly be, especially after I saw that pathetic little thing that he calls a dick, but he seemed to think that you aren't satisfying me." I didn't know what to say. I know that some men get off on the self-humiliation factor of being with a woman who fucks around, but I'm not one of them--I simply love Sarah, and love her aggressive and confident attitude towards sex. So I wasn't at all pleased to hear that Rich had said something like that about me, but I likewise wasn't overly upset; Sarah doesn't give a rat's ass what other people think of her behavior, and even than I was already learning to emulate her attitude. I trust Sarah and her love for me, in a way that most men either can't or won't. And yeah, it helped that she said that last bit, too. It was hard to tell in the dim light that poured in from the always-on emergency lighting, but what I did see between his legs was not very impressive at all. Then again, he was most assuredly not erect at the moment. "Where'd you get the handcuffs?", I finally managed. "He had them." She kept her teasing smile on him as he groaned, apparently figuring out what was coming next. "It seems that your buddy Richie likes to be handcuffed and spanked, and told that he's a naughty boy. Don't you, Richie?" He didn't try to answer, but couldn't have anyway. "So I told him to get the cuffs, and then I gave him just a tiny sample of what you get whenever you want it." She paused to level a much more genuine smile on me. "And then once I had him all worked up and begging for release, I went to get you!" Sarah was obviously pleased with herself. I shook my head and laughed softly. "You're too much, baby." "Not too much for you," she cooed to me. "By the way, did you notice that Rich is wearing panties?" I looked, seeing also the appalled and embarassed look on his face when she told me that. Sure enough, I could just make out something far too lacy to be mens' underwear tucked inside his trousers, around his feet. "Apparently," she went on, dragging out the word, "Richie has a mistress, who instructed him to wear her panties tonight so that he would be too bashful to fuck any other women. Not that it was working," she said in mock indignation. I was truly at a loss. Yes, because of the sight of the corporate big shot Rich handcuffed to the wall, little lace panties wrapped around his ankles, but mainly by Sarah herself. Remember, I had never breathed so much as a word to her about my feelings towards Rich, nor about anyone in particular at my office. I hadn't asked her to tone down her look tonight, but she had understood that I wanted her to anyway. I hadn't asked her not to fuck anyone tonight, but she'd decided not to regardless. And I had never asked her not to fuck Rich in particular, but she'd taken exception to something he said to her about me, and she'd actually gone one step further in setting up this display for my benefit. I was angry at myself for ever doubting her even for an instant, but most of all, I was more in love with Sarah than ever before--this wonderful, sexy woman who had somehow managed to penetrate feelings and fears that I wouldn't even admit to myself, and who had found a way to not only avoid them, but alleviate them entirely and permanently. It's something that I've since grown used to her doing--in many, many ways, Sarah knows me better than I know myself. She doesn't need to hear the words from me, because she can read my thoughts before I can even understand them. "Come over here." She interrupted my train of thought, standing again and taking a step towards the corner of the table. I went to her. "Now that I've shown you your suprise, I want you to do something for me," she purred into my ear. "Name it," I whispered back. "I want you to fuck me, right here and now." Her voice was louder, obviously aimed as much for Rich's ears as mine. "I want him to see what he's missing out on, and see just how good you fill my cunt." As she said it, Sarah had turned away from me, rucking her dress up around her hips while she bent to brace herself on the arm of her chair. She stood no more than 4 feet from the immobile Rich, whose eyes nearly bugged out of his head when he caught sight of the garter belt holding up my girlfriend's white stockings, and the bare, shaven, and obviously wet cunt which lay between the straps. She turned slightly until she stood in profile to his view, lifting the leg closest to him and setting her heeled foot onto the cushion of her chair. She ground her hips slowly, reaching between her legs to spread her cuntlips open. "Come on, Josh. Please put it in me, fill me up so good like you always do." Her voice was a pleading whine which she rarely used, sounding for all the world like a naughty little schoolgirl begging for a cherished toy. "Fuck your little slut, Josh." If I had been hesitant to do her like that, in the executive boardroom with a company supervisor handcuffed to the wall beside us and a party raging on just two floors below, the sound of her voice and the sight of her sopping pussy quickly convinced me to give in to that temptation. I fished my erection out of my pants, moving up behind her and positioning myself at her opening. "Oh, God yes, Josh! Don't tease me like that, fuck me baby. Put it in and fuck me soooo good." I did. I rammed into her so hard that she almost fell over onto the chair, Sarah screaming loudly and urging me on. I got off on it; on the feeling of her juicing cunt wrapped around my shaft, on the closeness and helplessness of my corporate rival beside us, and on the stream of cum-churning filth which poured from Sarah's mouth as I pounded her willing hole. "Oh fuck yeah, it feels so good!", she'd cry. "Pound my slutty little cunt, punish me for taking his tiny prick into my mouth! Fuck me baby, like only you can!" She focused a lot of attention on poor hapless Rich, too, who couldn't help but watch as we rutted right in front of him. "He lets me fuck other guys, you know," she told him. "I can fuck anyone else I want to, because Josh knows I could never get enough of his huge cock." That's the least of the reasons why I encourage her dalliances, but I understood what she was doing. "I bet you wish that was your prick inside me right now, don't you? You thought I was going to fuck you tonight, that just because I've fucked hundreds of hard cocks before and I'll fuck hundreds more, I'd let you slide yours inside my slutty little cunt, didn't you? But you're not going to get to--I'll fuck everyone else in this building, but not you. Never you." Sarah really isn't like that; she's ordinarily a very warm and caring woman, whether it's with me or with some random guy that she's decided to fuck on a given night. She'd later explain to me that he had said quite a few other things about me before she sprang her trap, most of which she's never told me, and that had really pissed her off. So she took out all of her aggression on him, taunting him like that, berating him as she came on my dick, getting off on it in a big way. She loved it, and I have to admit, so did I. "Oh yeah, baby, it feels so good, you're gonna make me cum again!", she cried out to me, doing exactly that. Her body trembled and shook while I rammed her, and I could see her head turned towards Rich, staring at him through lust-clouded eyes while she orgasmed. "My ass!", she panted, "Put it in my ass!" I was on the brink of cumming myself, but I willed myself to stop, to pull my pulsing length out of her cunt and slide into her rear entry. "Oh YES!", she moaned exaggeratedly, speaking to Rich again. "I love it in my ass," she told him, "I love a nice, hard cock deep in my asshole. Have you ever met a woman who would let you stick even that tiny thing into her back door?" He didn't try to answer, just stared wide-eyed at the slutty display that Sarah was providing for him. She smiled at him and grunted in time with my thrusts, pouring on her act thicker than I've ever seen before or since. She sensed me nearing the edge and spoke again to our watcher. "He's going to cum soon, and when he does, I'm going to swallow it all. I'm going to take his cock straight out of my asshole and suck him dry. Because I'm a slut, and I'll do absolutely anything to get Josh's cum." I jerked my cock out of her ass right that instant, squeezing the base to hold my load in until she could manuever around to get her lips on me. And that she did, sucking greedily while staring at Rich from the corner of her eye, moaning around my shaft when I started to pump a few moments later. She pulled me out of her mouth after the first couple jets, jacking me off into her open lips, still looking at the supervisor while she flicked her tongue out and around. She let her aim off, intentionally I'm sure, some of my juice spraying down onto her chin and the front of her dress. "Oopsies," she giggled, "I guess I'll just have to walk around with cum on my chest for the rest of the night." Rich groaned around his gag at that. When my balls finally emptied, she sat there on the chair for several minutes longer, alternately licking at my drooping prick and rubbing the head all over her cheeks, her eyes still locked onto our forced (but willing) voyeur. "He tastes so good," she told him, "and his cum feels soooo nice on my skin." She finally released my dick from her grasp, smiling up at me with her cum-coated cheeks. "I just have to do one more thing before we go, baby," she purred to me. I nodded, wondering what on Earth she had left to do, thinking that perhaps it involved uncuffing Rich. I should have known. She rose up and walked over to where he still stood, handcuffed to the wall, and reached down to run her hand lightly over his once again erect dick. "I may be a bitch," she breathed softly to him, "but I'm not heartless. And as much as I'd love to leave you here with your dick all hard and begging for release, Josh insists that I always finish what I start." I insisted no such thing; I insisted in nothing from her, except that which she willingly gave--her love for me. But I can tell when she wants me to play along, so I stood there in silence as she took him into her grasp, pointedly using only her thumb and forefinger to stroke him. "You want to cum, don't you, Richie? It got you all hot and bothered, seeing what a great fuck I am, and how good Josh can do me. Well I won't let your tiny prick inside of me, but slutty little Sarah will at least help you cum." Her hand sped along his shaft, taking perhaps two minutes until his hips started bucking as he sprayed outward, his first spurt so powerful that several drops landed on the tabletop 5 feet in front of him. The rest flew out to drop onto the dark carpeting, and finally to form little puddles on his own shoes, and the pants & panties piled around his feet. Sarah pulled her hand away and smiled briefly at him, then took my hand and led me back towards the doorway. "Mmmmmfff!" He started to panic and thrash around as she walked away, fearing that she truly did intend to leave him like that. Sarah stopped on a dime. "Oh! I almost forgot!", she said, walking back to the table and picking up a small silver key. "You can't get out of the cuffs without this, can you?" "Mmmmf!", he nodded, his relief obvious even in the dark room. She strode confidently toward him, jerking the tie/gag out of his mouth. "Thank you!", he breathed, laughing nervously. "I thought for a second you'd leave me here." Sarah smiled warmly at him. "I couldn't just leave you here like that!", she said, earning a very relieved smile from the man. She held the key up in front of his face. "Now, what do you say?" "Ple--" That was all he got out before Sarah's hand had darted to his lips and stuffed the key into his mouth. She turned smartly on her heel and walked with a purpose back to me. "They have cleaning crews, right?", she asked with a glint in her eye. "Ummm...yeah," I stuttered. I couldn't believe that she'd actually do that to him. "Then I'm sure someone will find him sooner or later!", she smiled, pecking me on the cheek before walking out of the room. "Ewe fuhing hlut!" It was hard for him to talk around the key, but we got the gist of it. Sarah poked her head back around the doorframe. "I am a slut," she purred to him, "and I'm going home right now to fuck Josh some more. Ta!" She had me lead her directly to the elevator, she not wanting to walk the 35 floors down to the garage, while I wasn't very enthusiastic about reappearing at the party while Sarah clearly wore cumstains all over her dress. "Sarah, the cleaning crew might have already done the boardroom! He might be stuck there until Monday morning!", I hissed to her as we waited for our ride. She thought about it for a moment. "But this is a big company, and I'm sure at least one or two of these executive types will be coming in tomorrow morning to make some calls or catch up on work or whatever, right?" "Well...probably, yeah," I admitted. "So there you go! If it makes you feel better, we can leave a note wherever the cleaning crew goes to tend to the boardroom." I nodded. "Hold the elevator if it comes!", I told her, trotting over to a nearby receptionist's desk and picking up the phone. I dialed down to the main security desk, giving them Rich's name when they answered and telling the guards to make sure they informed the cleaning crew to see to that particular room. The elevator had just arrived when I hung up and rejoined Sarah. "All taken care of!", I smiled to her, suddenly feeling better than I had in years. Almost giddy, even. Almost...hell, almost the way I'd felt in high school, when you could pull insane stunts like that without having to worry about ending up penniless and on the streets, or in some courtroom facing a lawsuit or criminal charges. I only had 3 days left at that job anyway, so who cares if I got into trouble when Rich was discovered? And I was going to be a novelist or freelance writer, so who gave a crap about references? In short, I suddenly felt like I had options again. As soon as the elevator doors closed behind us and we started riding downwards, Sarah was tugging off her dress. "What are you doing?", I asked, knowing full well what but wondering why and to what aim. "It's got cum stains all over it," she told me, "and besides, it's not like I'm ever going to wear *this* dress again." We both laughed at that--only if she had the hem taken up by about a foot and a half and the top pared down considerably would that dress have fit in with her usual attire. Sarah dropped the garment unceremoniously into a corner of the elevator, making the rest of the ride in nothing but her garter belt, stockings, and heels. I wasn't worried that other people would get on the elevator on our way down, as the entire building was deserted save for the one floor where the party was going on (and for one guy just above that, who wasn't going anywhere), but there was the chance that we'd run into someone else down in the parking garage, as it was early enough for some people to just be arriving. As it turned out, we did--two other cars were circling around as we walked to my car, Sarah just striding confidently onward in the face of their amazed stares. She even paused to wave at one gawking couple, pointing them towards the space that we were about to vacate. Getting home was just as much fun, as Sarah insisted on staying with me while I hunted for a parking spot, getting no closer than half a block away from our building. It was close to 11 PM by then and the sidewalks were fairly empty, but I couldn't even begin to count how many passing motorists got a good look at Sarah's shivering and uncovered body while we ran the rest of the way home. But as Sarah said, she had to make up for all the people who *hadn't* seen her naked earlier in the night. The rest of the night was just as rewarding, though spent at home. We made up for that the next evening, Saturday, when I sent Sarah out for one of her nights on the town, during which she hooked up with two men who claimed to be brothers, ending up at one of their homes and getting doubleteamed for several hours. It was a banner night for both of us--Sarah has a thing about fucking multiple men from the same family, as it makes her feel particularly slutty, and I just plain have a thing about seeing my girlfriend come home from a night out with her body drenched in other mens' cum and her pussy and ass well-fucked. Wednesday was my last day at work, as Thursday and Friday of that week were paid holidays, and I was practically skipping all day long. It turned out that Rich was indeed found by the cleaning crew later on Friday night, who had immediately called security, who had in turn called the big boss. He wasn't fired, but word around the office was that he would never see another promotion within the company. I felt a little badly about it, but not very much--and it was obvious that my coworkers weren't very bothered by Rich's fall from grace, either. My supervisor told me that I could go ahead and knock off early that afternoon, which I dutifully passed on to Sarah via telephone--I didn't want her to feel bad if she were still out getting laid when I got home. I was just putting my last couple of knicknacks into a cardboard box, before heading downstairs to turn in my badge, when Sarah appeared at my cubicle. It was a particularly chilly day outside, and so she was dressed in what passed for a cold weather ensemble to my slutty girlfriend--a tight red sweater over her braless tits, and a pair of skintight white stretch pants, 3 inch heels on her feet and a long black coat hanging loosely from her shoulders. She gave me a long kiss and then perched seductively on the corner of my desk, proudly spreading her legs open to display the very obvious wet spot on her crotch. "Jesus, Sarah!", I whispered urgently. She laughed. "Suprise, baby! Like the outfit?" "You're going to catch cold," I joked, shaking my head slightly in disbelief. "I wanted to be sure that everyone knew your girl was always ready for your cock," she teased me softly, bending so her lips floated beside my ear. "I think you accomplished that mission," I chuckled. "What do you have planned that got you so ready?" "Oh, I've got an idea. But I'm mainly wet because I was rubbing my cunt through my pants in the cab on my way here." She paused to smile at the shocked face of one of my coworkers, who stammered out a good luck & congratulations to me before hurrying off. Sarah laughed. I had to nix Sarah's initial plan, as difficult as that was. She'd gotten it into her head that she wanted to give me a blowjob right there in my cubicle, but I just couldn't run the risk of having someone call security to escort us out of there, especially since I still had to stop by the security desk to turn in my badge. She pouted a little, but she finally accepted my explanation and accompanied me downstairs to the lobby. Okay, so she also insisted on rubbing herself a little more during the elevator ride, and no, of course we weren't alone when she did so. That's just my Sarah. I turned in the badge and signed a couple of forms to say that I had, then we made our way down to the garage and to my car. Even if I hadn't had my wonderful girl with me I'd have been on cloud nine--I was finally bidding a last farewell to the building which had haunted me day and night for the last 6 years. I led her quickly to the car, anxious to make our getaway before some boss or another figured out a way to prolong our departure. Sarah had other ideas, though. "Don't open the door yet," she ordered me when I pulled out my keys. I turned to see her shrugging the long coat off of her shoulders and dropping it onto the hard parking surface, smiling at me as she walked up to where I stood beside the driver's door. "We're not leaving this building until I get your cum," she purred. "Sarah!" I looked around--it was still about 90 minutes until quitting time, but on the afternoon before a holiday, I was sure I wasn't the only (former!) employee with clearance to leave early. But I didn't even bother to argue as her hands worked on my belt; she didn't care if anyone saw us--probably hoped that someone would--and I couldn't really form any convincing arguments against her demand anyway. She freed my cock and looked up at me as she crouched at my feet, her tongue swirling around the head. Sarah leaned forward slightly on her heels, taking my glans between her lips and sucking hard while she worked her hand up and down my length, moaning lightly around my shaft. She kept this up for several minutes, during which time any fear of our discovery had been pushed completely out of my head, and then paused, leaning back again as my prick popped out from between her lips. "We have to do this right," she said with a sultry smile, reaching down to pull her tight sweater up over first her tits, then her head. She dropped it on the ground next to her coat, her nipples forming rock-hard points on her chest in the cool air of the garage. I just stared down in awe at my beautiful slut, crouched below me in the company parking garage while wearing nothing but her white stretch pants, her juices still forming an obvious wet spot on her crotch, and the high heels which sculpted her already shapely legs into absolute works of art. Sarah went back to sucking me, picking up the pace as we heard the elevator doors open and a pair of male voices locked in conversation. We were at least a couple hundred feet away from the elevator entry, Sarah's head hidden from view as she bobbed on my cock, but there were vast stretches of the garage from which anyone would be able to see quite clearly what was going on. She pulled her mouth free of me only long enough to gasp up, "are they coming this way?" I kept my eyes towards the lift, eventually seeing the two men walk briefly into view before turning away from us and striding deeper into the garage. "No," I told her, hearing a stifled, disappointed moan from around my rod. Sarah kept sucking, though, harder and faster as her hand alternately cupped my balls and stroked my shaft. "Come on," she urged me, standing suddenly and grasping my root firmly in her hand. Sarah led me around to the hood of my car, setting her gorgeous ass delicately on the curved metal. She tugged at me incessantly, finally pulling me to where the fronts of my thighs pressed firmly against the fender, between her dangling legs, and my cock once again slid between her waiting lips. Leave it to Sarah to up the ante yet again. It would now be nearly impossible for any person walking or driving through this half of the garage to miss what she was doing, nor the sight of her bare breasts, swaying with her head movements. I could feel myself getting closer and closer with every urgent jerk of her mouth, even as I heard a car start on the other side of the lot. She kept right on sucking as we both heard the car begin to move though the structure, tires squealing the way they do in any parking garage, regardless of speed. We heard it approaching quickly, Sarah picking up her pace and moaning loudly as the engine noise grew louder in our ears, until finally they sped by us two rows over, heading for the exit. I have no idea if my two former co-workers saw us there or not, but if they did, they didn't slow down. Sarah released my prick again, laying back across the hood with her legs spread wide and smiling at me. Her hand slid down her body to cup her cunt, rubbing and prodding it through the thin material of her pants. "Josh," she breathed, "I want to cum. And I want you to jack off while you watch me." She paused for a moan. "And when you cum, I want you to shoot it all over my pants, right on my cunt. Right on top of my hand while I frig myself." I nodded dumbly, taking my cock in my hand and stroking it quickly, her saliva forming a thick coat of lubrication on my length. Sarah smiled up at me while I stared at her wanton display, watched as she tried to push her finger into her pussy, still through her pants. Her juices shone clearly where they soaked through the stretchy white material of her trousers. I heard more voices approaching from behind me, almost drowned out by Sarah's moaning and pleas for my cum, but I was way too close to shooting to even contemplate stopping now. I could see Sarah's body tense, too, her other hand reaching up to pinch her nipple harshly while she rubbed faster and harder on her crotch. I began to get excited at the thought of being discovered like this, picturing in my mind the sexy executive assistant that I often saw in the break room, decked out as she always was in short business skirts and heels. I imagined her walking up to us, staring in awe as I stroked my cock and watched my girl frig herself to orgasm. Then I didn't care who saw us, heard the telltale clacking of a pair of heels on the garage floor some way off, and started spraying Sarah with my gism even as I heard the footsteps drawing closer. I tried to hold my aim true and succeeded for the most part, raining hot cum down onto Sarah's hand and the crotch of her pants beneath it. Some flew up onto her bare midriff above, and a bit landed on her thighs and the side of the car as well. Sarah let out a loud screech as her body began convulsing in an orgasm of her own, even as her hand clawed desperately at her cunt and my own cum splattered across her fingers. On some level I knew that her loud screams would only serve to ensure that anyone else in the garage would look over to investigate, but I didn't care. I kept stroking myself, spraying my seed onto Sarah's thrashing and half-nude body, the orgasm incredibly intense. It didn't dawn on me at first that I could no longer hear any footsteps behind us, at least until I saw Sarah smile widely at something behind and to the right of me, before pulling herself up into a sitting position and enveloping my shriveling unit with her mouth once again. I turned my torso slowly, cautiously, looking back over my shoulder, and then shuddering as I saw what, or rather who, my Sarah had smiled at. It was indeed one of the secretaries, though not the one I had thought of moments earlier. She was a small brunette, very quiet and almost mousy in appearance and demeanor, and she was standing at the end of the row of cars, perhaps 20 feet away from us, staring intently at Sarah and I. Her mouth hung open, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she stood there, her eyes clearly locked to a point about 3 feet below my own. One hand cupped her right breast through the coat she wore, her fingers opening and closing randomly on the soft flesh underneath. Sarah moaned loudly as she slobbered on my prick, a glance downward confirming that she had her eyes locked on our bystander the whole time. Some of you may have wondered if Sarah is bisexual by now, and it's a fair enough question. The answer is yes, of course, although not in a major way. As I've told you, Sarah loves to fuck, period, and her passion for the activity knows no limits of race, color, creed, or sex. She much prefers men, truth be known, simply because she adores feeling a warm, hard cock ramming violently into her cunt or ass, but Sarah is also quite happy with her face buried in another woman's muff; especially if she's getting her cock at the same time. I knew that, then, and all sorts of visions were dancing through my head as Sarah motioned the woman closer to us, she slowly complying. My girl stood up, stretching before slinking over to the secretary and whispering something into her ear. The other woman flushed, jerking her head shakily up and down, at which point Sarah smiled like the cat with the canary and whispered another question. I heard a soft, meek "no, I couldn't" from her, then saw her nod again and smile nervously after Sarah said something else to her. My delightful little slut then leaned over and gave her a soft kiss on her lips, before turning smartly and striding back to where I was finally getting around to tucking my dick back into my pants. "We have plans for Saturday night," she told me with a smile. Sarah stooped to pick up her coat and sweater, not bothering to put them on, and stood at the passenger door until I had recovered enough to unlock the car and climb in myself. She waved at the woman who had seen us when we drove by her a minute later, on our way out of the garage and home. "What kind of plans?", I finally asked, once we were merged into traffic. The thought occurred to me that perhaps I should have the car windows tinted as I saw one person after another gawk in amazement when they saw Sarah sitting topless beside me. Then again, why spoil her fun? "I think you can guess," she purred to me, smiling fiendishly. God, I love this woman! <1st attachment end> ----- ASSM Moderation System Notice------ Notice: This post has been modified from its original format. 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