Business Affairs

*** Alison - Customer Rewards ***

Robert was having dinner with his industry colleague, the one whose subordinate had all but assaulted his sales executive in the supply renewal contracts negotiations.

Robert had known Maxwell since early in their careers. The discussions during the Chateaubriand meal had been amicable, both men observing how the old business had taken on a ruthless pursuit of profit during their time. But they were satisfied that their agents had struck an equitable bargain.

They watched the waiter clear away the dessert plates. The ambiance in the tower's finely appointed dining room spoke of the wealth and power Robert had accumulated. As such, he was not unaware of the strains of life he and his fellow CEOs endured to beat the competition. So, he was cognizant of the means they employed to mitigate the stress and seek regular relief.

"Max, do you still have that redhead sucking your cock each morning."

"No. She left, enticed away by some recruitment agency. I haven't found a suitable successor."

"How long has it been?"

"Only a few weeks but damn I miss her. How about you?"

"I got lucky. My recruiter found an excellent office girl, a true treasure. Sucks like the devil and fucks like an angel.

"I'm jealous. But something will turn up."

"Let me get you in touch with my guy. He's expensive but very effective. Meanwhile, how about I help you out in the short term. My gal is upstairs in the penthouse. You can have her for the night."

"Really?! You'd do that for me?"

"What are friends for? Use this keycard to take the elevator to the penthouse. The suite is the only door in the lobby."

"Are you going to call ahead; let her know I'm coming?"

Robert looked at his guest and made a mischievous grin, thinking about who would be cumming as often as his stamina held up.

"Nah, let's give her a surprise."

Maxwell took the purple card, embossed with Robert's initials and his company logo, shook hands and hurried to the elevators.

Exiting at the penthouse floor, he paused briefly outside the apartment door, mentally practicing his greeting: 'Hi, Robert sent me' or 'Is this Robert's place' or 'I must be in heaven because you look like an angel'. That last one was too cheesy so he decided to stick with just 'Hello' and let the scenario play out.

He pressed the buzzer and heard quick footsteps inside. The latch clicked and the door partially opened to a lilting voice exclaiming: "Oh, Robert, did you forget your key again?"

Max was stunned by the source of the voice. She was a wavy brunette with a knockout figure lightly covered by a filmy negligee. He was instantly enthralled by her youthful beauty. Her smile thawed as she saw that it wasn't Robert. Her arm crossed her breasts as a shield to her brown nipples but nothing could veil her raw sexuality.

"Who are you and why are you here?"

He thought back to his imagined greetings. The angel comparison wouldn't have been wrong. But words failed him. He shyly held up the purple card. Alison saw the emblem from Robert, his missive to her that the holder was her latest business boosting assignment. She obediently opened the door wider and gestured the strange man forward.

"Oh, sorry... please come in. I'm Alison."

The door closed and locked automatically. She sashayed ahead of him into the main room. He couldn't take his eyes off her silk draped rocking ass. She turned with a hostess' bright smile and pointed to the sofa facing the window wall, overviewing of the twinkling city far below.

"Please get seated. Can I get you anything? Something to nibble on or drink?'

Max looked over her body, the shadows of nipples and nether wedge coyly presented by her full-frontal stance. His choice would have been to nibble on her pussy and drink her vaginal dew but he held his crude lust in gentlemanly check.

"Thanks, but I just had dinner with your boss. I'm okay for now."

She nodded with due deference.

"Then, let me get you more comfortable."

She knelt, presenting him with a top-down view of her hefty globes while untying his shoes and removing his socks. She rose and moved to sit next to him. She sat close and leaned her shoulder on his. He smelled her freshness, guessing that she had made herself neat and tidy for the probable rendezvous with her boss. But she seemed to have adjusted quickly to the changed circumstances. Robert was right; she was a true treasure.

Alison placed a finger on Maxwell's chest, gingerly touching the buttons. With no sign of resistance, she opened a few, spread the shirt and leaned in to kiss and tongue his nearer nipple. She heard his groan of exhilaration at the stimulation. Encouraged, she opened more buttons without desisting her nipple play and moved her oral caress across to his other side.

Her hand moved down to palm his crotch. He shifted his posture, moving his thighs wider, giving her freer access which she took by lowering his zipper. Her hand went inside and found the warm manroot, already starting to grow. A few tickles caused more swelling under her fingers. His own hands remained pressed on the cushions beside his legs, giving her the lead in this foreplay.

She lifted her body away, knee crouching next to him, a better pose to continue his undressing. The shirt was finished off and he lifted his ass to aid her removal of both his outer and under pants. He was naked next to his flimsily clad hostess. She kneed up again held still, giving him invitation to take the next initiative.

"Do you like what you see?"

He scanned her from face to abs, returned to her chest where he admired her boobs, veiled beneath the negligee. His hand rose to pluck the center bow, pulling the string with dramatic slowness, letting the moment linger as the lapels spread and fell aside her brown crowned mounds.

He twisted in his seat, moving his face to her cleavage, replicating the nipple work she had bestowed on him. She took leave to lightly cup his ears in her hands and guided his lingual massage of her areolas. She tilted her head back, eyes closed, enjoying the tingles emanating downward to her clitoris.

He leaned back into the cushions and she righted her stance. Her hand took hold on his erection, elevating it to a solid muscle stele, just right for her next step in this erotic frolic. She leaned down, her boobs dangling beneath her chest as her lips captured the tip of his dick.

Lips, cheeks, tongue and tonsils teamed up to worship his cock. She bobbed, sucked, lapped and plunged in a sexy combination of fellatio, exercising the methods patiently taught to her by Robert, in his goal of perfecting her man pleasing talents. Max's body lazed in the cushions, only his erection stayed stiff and solid.

She rose her face off and gracefully alighted the sofa, drawing him upward by a hand on his arm as the other remained attached to his hardon. She led him to the master bedroom, guiding him onto the bed, abandoning her top to the floor and laying on her side beside him.

She took the first step toward real passion. Her face drew close to his and she caught his lips in a deep kiss. Her hands swept his back and sides, a sweep over his ass, a shuffle to press her tits to his chest. His hands got active, clutching her ass and drawing her closer against his tummy to capture his erection between them. With his cock sequestered in the warm togetherness, he ramped up the kissing, devouring her lips and tongue, giving her his own to suckle and lightly tooth.

His lust was at fever pitch; he was ready to make the most intimate of human connections. He rolled her onto her back, braced himself above her on knees and elbows, one hand under her neck, the other under an ass cheek. She nimbly spread her legs, lifting her knees wide outside his thighs, tilting her groin upward, positioning her body for ravaging. He scooted lower, letting his tip drop into the open wedge between her thighs. Her arms wrapped his shoulders; her face pressed his neck.

He smelled her wanton desire: the flowery perfume, the powdery dregs of shampoo, the faint perspiration despite her apparent agile resilience. He felt his macho puff up; his whole being was filled with ego and pride that he was about to fuck what could be his greatest fantasy, hell... every man's greatest fantasy. He mulled the challenge of achieving the excellence it deserved.

Alison recognized the male's tick of hesitation, one that wasn't caused by fear or doubt, but by the wish of making the imminent coital caper the best he ever had. She intended to fulfill that wish.

Alison wiggled her hips, gaining back his attention to the task at hand. She felt his cock tip touch her labia split. She jostled those plump ridges to entice his entry. He pressed slowly; the conical nose tunneled its way past the pink tissues within, invading her feminine hollow until its orifice closed tight on the main shaft past the coronal ring.

She rubbed his back, silently cheering his start of their fortuitous genital union. She tilted her hips down a smidge, rubbing her aperture ring on his corona. He took her hint, reared back and pushed deeper, gaining the half shaft point. With her face beside his, he couldn't see her smile of delight, but he heard her low hum of joy. His cock jumped once at the vanity of giving her an instance of pleasure. She felt it and hummed again.

With basics established, Maxwell got down to work. He lay his weight on her, compressing those magnificent boobs. His hip cycled a varied rhythm: sometimes slow, sometimes quick, sometimes long, sometimes short. Every stroke gave his penile nerves an invigorating sparkle. He paused intermittently after any particularly energetic burst to regain his breath and maintain his stamina. At those brief breaks, Alison twisted her face to his, claiming another round of smooches.

She had missed those facial canoodles. Robert limited his contact to a quick peck on the lips at her reception or departing. He was averse to the facial oral play, only using her mouth as a tool for his penile pleasure. But Maxwell seemed to like the tender lip play and she was glad to oblige. It helped to bring out her growing passions, augmenting his sporadic thumps on her clitoris.

It was a delightful session, seemingly timeless, but nothing lasts forever, even when the partners are dedicated to its unending continuation. Mother Nature exacts her due. And so, she did.

Maxwell was beyond retreat as his sperm bloated balls liberated their essence, propelling the milky pearls of life up his urethra and out into its destined receptacle. His back arched, even as Alison clung to his body and tightened her Kegels, believing that the increased squeeze would trigger a grander orgasm, forcing him to exert greater pressure to deliver his load.

His loud bellow of bliss told her that her theory, proven through prior trials, was probably correct. His body jittered and vibrated as the pulses of ejected sperm collected in her womb. Her own pending orgasm stayed just on the edge and faded away as he collapsed atop her sweaty body. She held him in a loose hug as he huffed through a series of re-oxygenating gusts that slowly ebbed down to normal respiration.

He rolled on his side, his middle-aged physique weary from the vigorous sexual exercise. She turned to cuddle up to him, ass next to his groin, keeping his sticky cock from cooling too quickly. He threw an arm across her torso; she took his hand and held it to her tit, offering him a toy to grip.

But he lay still, unmoving, and she heard his slow breathing. He had dozed off. She let herself enter her own twilight sleep, ready to wake when he did and continue the sexual session.

Maxwell came awake, his cock cuddled in her ass crack, his palm filled with soft tit. He squeezed and the woman in his arms moved her bottom on his deflated appendage; her hand covering his pressed it tighter to her mammary flesh.

She shifted, rolling about to face him.

"Hello, sir. How are you feeling?"

"Very mellow. You are a great fuck."

"Thank you. Not so bad yourself. Want to try again?"

"I'm not sure I could make another go like that."

"Sure, you can. Let me take over the tough stuff."

Alison moved slowly to lay Max out supine. She threw a leg over and sat on his upper legs. His cock lolled in the crevasse between his tummy and leg. She took a two fingered hold and laid it straight on his lower belly. Her cunt was inches from its base. His ball sac sagged between his thighs.

He surveyed the two breasts well displayed on her chest. They were large for her frame, well built, no noticeable sag, unusual at that size, but maybe not, considering her youth.

She saw his stare and cupped the twin masses from underneath, raising and bouncing them in her palms.

"Try 'em. They like to be fondled."

His hands rose to replace hers and used the same bounce to test their resiliency. Then some kneading and nipple pinches. She smiled throughout, never wincing at his rough tit-play.

Her freed hands went to work elsewhere, fingering his semi-tumescent cock, drawing along its growing length, a fingernail flick at a coronal side, a finger pad rub on the nook. Each little cock massage got him longer and thicker as the bed mates manually stirred the others erogenous areas.

As vouched, Alison took on the tough task. She scooted forward, pressing her juicy pussy lips to the base of his erection. She slid forward, painting the underside of his cock with her free-flowing vaginal lubrication. The move pushed her tits closer and his hands got stronger and more active. Her hands were braced on the mattress at his sides and she leaned over, catching his gripping fists between their chests.

She grabbed a quick smooch then lifted and moved higher, bringing her boobs to his face. He kissed and nibbled on her nipples, getting a memorable hum of delight. A quick toothy nip got a yip and a giggle as she backed off and returned her groin to match his.

She wiggled her ass and hips, slid a finger between them and aligned his cock with her cunt. She slid down, taking it all in. Fully impaled, she sat upright. He was back to stretching his arms forward to clutch her boobs and diddle her nipples.

She worked her hips fore and back, dragging his coronal nook hard against her inner wet tissues. Another series moved side to side, scouring the less commonly targeted hood edges. Then a deep stirring motion that lit up all the nerve spots. She intermixed those techniques with long slow up and down slides.

All-in-all, she rubbed every accessible zone that would raise her man's vim to the cracking point. She gauged his temperament by the throaty groans, moans and sighs that filled the room during her coital symphony.

She had deferred her own orgasm before but felt her efforts deserved a reward. She skillfully metered her tempo and style, pausing to step back and raise the intensity to a next higher level, determined to provide her guest his key culmination before she enjoyed her own.

Feeling his hips arch up, and hearing the rush of his intake breath, followed by his call of manly fulfillment, she let go and quivered through a spine-tingling sexual nirvana while feeling his warm manly pulses coat her chamber deep inside. His nipple pinching fingers, uninhibited during his ecstasy, augmented her orgasmic intensity.

As she wound out of the spinal quakes, she felt his hips settle into the mattress and leaned her body over to rest her breasts on his chest. Only then did she notice her own deep panting after the labors of her successful mission.

They shuffled into a second spooning but this time both fell into a deep well-earned sleep.

Dawn's light filled the room in the morning. The gratified pair sluggishly crawled from the bed. A shower was in order. Alison set the temperature and they entered the double sized cabinet together.

The water was refreshing and as they cleansed each other. With a double handful of her tits, Maxwell suddenly realized that this may be his last time with Alison. She was soaping his dick and noted the growth. She looked up, he looked down. Their mouths mashed together in a lover's farewell kiss. Her arms wound his neck for support.

But a kiss was not enough for him. His groin pressed her ass against the wet tile wall. She lifted a foot; her inner thigh touched his outer thigh. He grasped her knee, pulling the wet leg up to his waist, opening her core to his penile invasion. His cock was raring to go; he heeded its macho command.

Alison groaned as his wet staff punched in, banging her ass against the wall and his pubic on her clitoris. He drew back and banged again, and again, and again. Their mouths were still connected in a tongue dancing swirl.

She was deeply enthralled by this abrupt standing fuck. It was the kind of surprise a woman secretly craves: to be selected for a hasty taking by a powerful man. It made her feel worthy of his esteem.

She sensed the end approaching and wasn't going to waste this opportunity. First, last or together, it didn't manner to her. She willed herself to orgasm and her wish was granted.

Max felt her body stiffen and her arms hug him tighter. His ego soared with the pride that middle-aged him had thrilled again the sexy maiden in his clutches.; it was all he needed. His brain shot a signal down his spine to his groin. His cock erupted with jets of sperm, flooding the quivering female in his arms. They vibrated to a quiet calmness, still standing, but slowly slumping to a soaked bundle of gratified flesh on the shower floor. At last, they released their kiss.

Maxwell untangled from her and helped her to rise. She dried him with a large cottony bath towel, gently rubbing its softness over his cleansed skin. He wanted to return the favor, a chance to caress and fondle her bodacious body once more. But she playfully nudged him out to dress in the bedroom. She lingered behind and, after he had dressed himself, she emerged.

She had preened her hair to its fluffy fineness, refreshed her makeup, and wore another translucent waist tied negligee. Heels added to her height and magnificence.

A light breakfast sufficed for renourishment before it was time for their interlude of passion to close. She walked him to the door.

She inclined her tired body against the open-door leaf, looking at him with dreamy eyes, a persistent post-coital buzz still tingling her pussy. Her face held an inexorable smirk of euphoria at the complete gratification she felt after being exhaustively fucked by her studly visitor.

Alison put forth her open hand and Maxwell surrendered his one-time-only, logo-embossed purple card. She held it to her breasts, like a treasured memento, as he pressed in for one final kiss of reciprocated thanks. He backed away, she closed the door slowly, watching drearily as he disappeared from her sight, and probably from her life.

With a deep sigh of lament, he pressed the down button on the elevator. He needed to get that staff recruiter's name from Robert; he wanted his own sexy plaything just like his friend had procured.