Oh, sure, there were plenty of prostitutes in New York, but that kind of love had never appealed to him.
There was a soft knock on his door.
“Come in,” said Sydney without curiosity. It was late. One of the cleaning women was due.
The door opened— and Crystal Locke came in — alone. She carried a small briefcase in one hand. Sydney stared at her in surprise and awe. She marched across his rug to his desk, it seemed like a mile, that silken beauty getting closer and closer, her breasts jiggling and a big smile on her face. Those green eyes shone like lamps.
Sydney jumped to his feet.
“U-uh-did you want to see me?”
“I sure did, Mr. Martin,” she said.
She laid her briefcase carefully on his desk. Then she came around the desk to stand close to him. Her body in that gorgeous, soft and glittering jumpsuit held his eyes, and now he felt her body heat as she stood next to him. He also smelled her fragrance.
“I seem to have created a disturbance in your groin,” she said with a smile.
His cock had already started to harden again in his pants as he watched her walk across the thick carpet. As she stood beside him, his desires, smoldering from before, began to burst into flame.
“I— you noticed that?” he squeaked.
She took his hand.
“You sit on the desk, I’ll take your chair,” she said.
Puzzled, excited and delighted, he obediently rose and sat on the edge of his big desk facing her, while she eased into his swivel chair. She reached forward and undid his zipper. Warm, elegant fingers dipped inside of his shorts to bring forth his cock. He just sat there, paralyzed with surprise and joy.
His swollen sex meat stiffened immediately, thickening, growing, straining as she gently joggled it with her soft hand, smiling up into his face. He went dizzy with delight and desire, staring down on this luscious beauty he’d thought was miles beyond his reach. There was the beautiful face with those fabulous eyes and soft cheeks, the long platinum blonde hair, the magnificent tits straining to get out of her half bra. Glittering in silver as she sat in his dark swivel chair, she seemed like a vision from another planet.
“In each firm that I teach executives, I make one special friend,” she explained.
“You— chose me?” he squeaked.
Her answer was to lean forward and suck his hard cock into her sensuous mouth, past snake-curving lips. With a shock of huge joy, he felt the heat of her mouth, the sexy wetness and the tight pressure of her cocksuck. He thrilled up and down his backbone, from his feet to his head.
“You can see I chose you, Mr. Martin— Sydney,” she said softly.
He wanted to ask why, blurting out a long string of questions. He also wanted to get his prick thoroughly and deliciously sucked as she was doing and was afraid to say or do anything that would break the spell.
“I— I— guess my hard-on t-told you I was interested,” he said.
“It helped.”
She didn’t tell him he was the only possible choice among the Domino executives. Crystal Locke was an extremely intelligent young woman for her twenty-nine years, and a large part of that intellect believed in letting her body take over in personal matters. Her cunt had practically creamed on the first day that she saw Sydney. Her body told her that this was the prick she had to have, so she was delighted to discover that Sydney had home problems and that his wife had left him, information she got from discreet inquiries. It was a shame that he had personal problems, but it fit into her desire to befriend him.
His cock was slightly larger than average, and just now she had given it the maximum hard-on. Big purple veins fed hot blood into the muscular tissue, locking it so hard that it quivered. Paper thin skin moved sexily over the rigid muscle. The mushroom head of his stabber was a light purple from congested desire. There were a few gray hairs in his pubic thatch. His round, tight balls were smooth with congestion, a boiling male reservoir, surging to be plucked.
The result of handling all that hot male sexuality was to turn her on like fury. Despite her big city sophistication, Crystal was an elemental woman. The transfer of that boiling semen through a straining, sexed up cock into her body was the most delicious human act she could think of.
She ran a finger up his shaft and rimmed the fluted edge with a wet, pink tongue. Sydney cried softly in pleasure and his big root throbbed.
“Why did your wife leave you, Sydney?”
“She— I— we— it was a Women’s Lib thing,” he said.
“She wanted lots of— uh — cunnilingus and it took me an hour to get her off. Then we could have sex, but in an hour of sucking her box, I got irritable.”
She released his cock and stood up. She undid her blouse. It came off white, smooth shoulders to reveal her magnificent torso and those incredible breasts, restrained now only by the half bra. The delights went on. She slid out of her pants, revealing a tight V, clutched by bikini panties, and exquisite thighs and ankles. He almost came just looking at all the gorgeous nudity.
“Could you suck me, Sydney?”
“Anything— anything…” he murmured.
They changed positions, he sitting in his chair, she sitting on the edge of the desk facing him, legs spread. She slipped out of her panties. With a cry of eagerness, he plunged his head forward to burrow his tongue into the innocent pink cunt surrounded by the glossy platinum pubic hairs. He felt he could suck this sex Goddess for a century.
His wife had trained him, no question. That expert tongue reaming into Crystal’s hot, sensitive channel, almost took the top of her head off. Her clitoris seemed to leap up to find his sliding wet tongue.
“Ahhhh, ooohhhh,” she gasped, as she gripped his head in utter delight.
She strained up against his face, running her hands through his thick, curly hair. Except in his job, Sydney was a bumbler, an innocent. She needed an innocent, hard-pricked man! They were precious gems, few and far in between, capable of turning her into a gibbering idiot. Massive thrills tore through her belly, making all her pleasure nerves sing.
“Uh, Uh, Uh,” she sighed as she worked off three or four luscious undulations on his mouth and tongue. She was already white hot. She locked her soft thighs tight around his head and experienced deep belly thrills that almost made her faint.
But she wanted much more than tonguing from him. Reluctantly she pulled his head up and made him stand up as she slid off the desk. She undid her bra. Her large, taut breasts fell free, jiggling from tension.
He needed no special invitation. His eyes grew big, his heart pumped fast, as he faced those fantastic girl globes, free and naked. With a cry of triumph he went for them, kneading one and sucking the flint-hard nipple of the other.
Her body went back and she had to gasp at the rocking thrills of joy she got from the attack on those sensitive sex parts.
“Oh, Sydney. Great hev-vens! My tits— on f-f-fire!” she cried.
They clung in passionate lock, her hand jogging his prick, his mouth and hands using her breasts with furious hunger. His cock throbbed dangerously while her cunt creamed with ecstatic new honies.
As the first thrill died, she took his hand and led him around the desk.
“You— your rug looks thick, soft, inviting,” she said.
Excited and very high, but puzzled, he followed her. She was kind of strange, giving him only a few sucks of his cock, then taking only a few reams of his tongue, and finally accepting only a brief period of breast love. In fact, if his hard cock and tortured desire had not binded him, he would’ve been asking all sorts of questions. All he could think of, instead, was “We’re going to do it!”