Ron smiled. "Do you want to?"
Cherie looked down and nodded hesitantly. "But I don't want our, uh, friendship to cause any problems with my job."
"I understand," Ron said, giving her hand a squeeze. "We'll be very careful. Now I think I'd better go first, and I'll see you after lunch." And with an affectionate backward glance at her, he slipped out the door.
Cherie bent and picked up her panties, slipping them on. Life had become so complicated now that she had been intimate with two different men in such a short time. The possible consequences of unprotected sex filled her with dread. Why couldn't she control herself?
Shaking her head in despair, Cherie went to her room for a shower.
The next morning, Ron Wolter lay in the bed in the room near Cherie's that no one knew he used. It had been a hard night after a very difficult day. He had sat with the group in the conference room through that afternoon, unable to take his eyes from Cherie, unable to keep his mind on his work. Cherie dared to look into his eyes and smile but only once, but she kept glancing apprehensively at Cleophas, who watched her fixedly and smiled knowingly at her whenever she chanced to glance his way.
Ron knew that Herb was holding the girl's hand under the table at times, saw her smile cooly at Herb when he perhaps stroked her leg under the table. The young man was hoping, wanting her to get up, slap the old man, and come flying into his arms, but he knew she could not do that. She had to go along with the boss as long as they were on his junket, and Ron appreciated that. But he dreamed of having her all to himself.
After work, they had all departed and Ron noticed that Cleophas edged close to the girl and lewdly palmed her plump ass while Herb wasn't looking. He saw the girl look up at him fearfully, for some reason afraid to say anything. Then they had dinner and Ron sneaked up to his secret room to stand guard of his secret love.
He had watched her approvingly as she had dressed in her jeans and flannel shirt to go out for a walk, not in the enticing nightgown she had put on the night before to wait for the intimate attentions of Herb and his giant fucking cock. She was really trying to get out of the room for a walk in the forest, away from Herb so that she could avoid another session with him, and Ron had begun to leave the room to somehow contrive to meet her out there in the trees in the warm evening to enjoy an encore of this afternoon's meeting in the linen closet, when he had seen the door open and an expectant Herb Melville walk in. If only she had gotten out five minutes earlier, she would have been clear and Ron would not have been forced to watch what had happened later.
At first the girl had not responded readily to his kissing and caressing of her ripe body. Her arms hung at her sides while the older man stroked over her jean-clad thighs, butt, and tits. Then her pink nipples hardened and distended and her blonde head dropped back. Her knees went weak and she had begun to relax and he had removed her clothing piece by piece, spread her on the bed and licked her pussy, and then, when she was thrashing on the sheets with a hot need, he had levered himself over her and used his fist to guide his huge penis into her dear, sweet vagina, to the hilt, then began a smooth experienced fucking motion, battering her with his body while she whimpered and moaned with growing delight. She had come, and come again, her juices flowing like a river until Herb had finally given a guttural groan and expended himself inside her, mingling his seed with what Ron had flooded her with earlier.
They had lain together quietly for an hour, and then Melville had returned to his own sumptuous quarters, leaving the tender beauty rosy-cheeked, well-fucked, and radiant on the bed where she had lain until regaining her senses. Wiping tears from her face she had arisen, showered and dressed herself, and gone out for a walk in the trees behind the mansion. Ron hurried out and found her there in the shadows.
When she saw him, she gave a start, but then she ran to him and he took her in his arms, stroking her tenderly while she sobbed on his shoulder, and forgiving her for what he knew was not her fault. How could she tell a man like Herb no? And once she had let him touch her as she knew she must, how could she not respond? She nuzzled her face against his neck and cried hot tears, and he knew why she was crying and did not ask her to explain.
After that, they had walked and talked quietly, speaking of another meeting, under more discreet and secure circumstances than those of their first encounter in the linen closet. They held hands, and spoke of returning to the city and going out to dinner at nice restaurants together. Then, after two lovely, romantic hours, they parted with a deep, warm kiss and returned to their respective rooms.
But Ron didn't want to lose sight of her so he went to the empty room next to hers and spent the night in the dark looking at her beautiful body, naked to keep cool in the summer heat, stretched out on the bed.
Now he watched her lying there on her side with her front toward him, her pink-nippled tits enticing him, her thighs lying gracefully together, and the sunlight glistening on the golden tips of her pubic curls. She was the loveliest sight he had ever seen and he knew that he wanted to be able to wake up to the sight of her forever.
Ron watched her quietly, peaceful as she slept, his cock stiffening with arousal while he viewed her perfect, white body glowing in the morning light, and at that moment he noticed that her door was being slowly opened from outside.
Cleophas Powell walked quietly up the hall toward the room where he knew Cherie was staying. As he carefully and silently pushed the door inward it occurred to him that from where she slept, she could have easily looked out and seen the unabashed antics of him and Diane a few nights previously, and he understood why Herb had ordered them to do what they did down by the pool instead of in the privacy of their bedroom, where it would not have breached house protocol as they did in having wild intercourse at the poolside.
Cleophas gave a quiet sigh at the sight of her beautiful body innocently displayed in sleep. To make sure she really wasn't awake, he whispered her name at a volume that would have got the attention of anyone who was awake, but she didn't move. He stood there, wondering if he should wake her up, tell her he had seen her fucking Wolter in the storage room, and coerce her – as little as possibly necessary – into putting her body at his disposal for the next hour, before getting dressed and going down to the daily grind. He stood there, nearly salivating at the sight of her body, the crevice of her ass, the creamy-skinned, flowing columns of her legs, the strong expanse of her back, the buttery sweep of her blonde hair. It was a pity to have to wake her, and then he had an idea. Carefully, he unbuckled his belt.
Ron Wolter bolted upright on the bed as he saw Cleophas steal into the room, pause to gape at the girl's lovely nakedness, and then begin to undress. His eyes grew wide with horror as he began to understand what the black man had in mind. He saw Cleophas drop his pants, baring the giant, rounded muscles of his chest and arms, the rippled sinews of his belly, and the powerful ebony pillars of his legs. Ron had had no idea how well-built his black colleague was, down to the twisting cords of muscle at his knees and bulges of his calves. And the enormous penis that sprang forth from the curly wool of his crotch filled him with dread for the girl, for there was no doubt that he meant to do to Cherie what was most natural to any healthy man like Cleophas, what he himself and Herb had already done. It was of such a great size, hard and slightly curved like a rhino horn, dark and sleek and gnurled with twisting, purple veins and crowned with a flaring, mushroom-like head whose flanges spread to well over two and a half inches. In spite of his body-builder's physique and size, standing there with that awesome instrument jutting out massively into the room, he looked a bit like a small boy endowed with a grown man's penis, so out of proportion was it in comparison to Ron's own normally – and unimpressively-sized – one. With horror, Ron saw the large hole in the end of Cleophas' cock, pink-lipped and exuding a flow of clear lubricating fluid that hung from the tip, a four-inch string of slippery goo that swung back and forth from the knob when he took his steps toward the bed.