Miss Dandelion

Hello, my name is Dandelion, I know, everyone frowns when they hear my name. Usually followed by "Really?" My parents were hippies, and saddled me with the name. At first I tried different names, but in the end realised it was quite cool to have such an unusual name.

I'm in my forties, married, two children who have left home, and now at university. My husband and I have good steady jobs. I had just been promoted as a personal assistant to a senior solicitor, Mr Twain. A man in his mid fifties, slimish, about six foot tall, always wearing sharp suits, brown eyes, bald shaved head, and designer beard. In the courtroom he was like a pouncing tiger, in the office he was more like a cuddly kitten.

He was kind and patient towards me and helped me find my feet in my new role. My main job was to organise his weekly diary. I worked long hours, but enjoyed it. An hour every morning was spent taking dictation from him, then writing up the letters on my PC.

Mr Twain had a conference coming up in Brighton at the weekend and he needed me to attend. I had to organise meetings for him, it was quite a tight schedule. We left the office early on Friday afternoon. I was very surprised as he'd been given the use of the company Rolls Royce and chauffeur for the trip. We arrived at the five star hotel late afternoon and he insisted on carrying my suitcase to my room. And what a room, or should I say rooms. It was a suite. A bathroom with a separate shower, jacuzzi and sauna. A large living room with two settees, armchairs, a desk and a massive TV on the wall. A massive bedroom, with walk in wardrobe, dressing table and mini bar. A compact kitchen, fridge, freezer and microwave, and a separate shower room.

It was larger than my house. I had a balcony overlooking the sea. Mr Twain was amused as I ran around like an excited child. I wasn't expecting this level of luxury, I hadn't booked the rooms, Mr Twain had.

He said, "I'll go and get settled in my room, join me in the restaurant at seven." And with that he left.

I had a couple of hours to kill, so I had a bath, then tried the sauna and afterwards got in the jacuzzi. I'd never been in one before. I moved around to explore the different water jet angles then sat on one. Immediately a new sensation took over my body as the powerful jet of water stimulated my pussy lips and clitoris. Using the controls I increased the force. Suddenly from no where I experienced one of the strongest orgasms I'd ever had. I couldn't move, as orgasms wracked through my body one after another. Eventually I got out and exhausted lay on the bed for half an hour. I must have fallen asleep, I jerked awake, it was 6.30pm. I quicky fixed my make up and put on my favourite black evening dress. showing off my cleavage to its best advantage. On the right side there was a slit up to my hip. I had to be careful which leg I crossed. I checked in the mirror, not bad I thought. I arrived at the restaurant with a couple of minutes to spare. Mr Twain was already sitting at a table. He saw me, waved and walked towards me. He took my hand, and gave me a kiss on the cheek.

Mr Twain said, "Oh my. Dandelion, you look good enough to eat."

He led me towards the table, and pulled a chair out for me. I thanked him as I sat.

He said, "We aren't technically at work, so whilst here, please call me George. Of course during the meetings still call me Mr Twain." I thanked him. He said, "Choose anything you want on the menu, and I believe champagne would be the order of the day."

The conversation was stilted at first, but as the food arrived and the Champagne flowed, we were soon conversing as if we'd known each other for years. At about 10pm I said I was getting tired, and as we had a 7am start in the morning I needed to go to bed. He insisted on escorting me to my room. At the door he bowed slightly, kissed the back of my hand and thanked me for a lovely evening. I thanked him and went into my room.

I poured a glass of wine and reflected on the evening. It was very pleasant, he's a good looking man, ten years older than me. And once we had passed over my initial shyness we'd got on really well. He had a quick wit, a lovely sense of humour, and was very complimentary. He had been divorced ten years ago. I realised I was quite attracted towards him. I shook that feeling off, must be the Champagne.

I opened my laptop to call my husband on WhatsApp face tme. We were chatting away, and then I noticed a flashing icon in the corner of the screen. It was a friend request from Mr Twain. I told my husband I had to go, told him I love him and blew a kiss and closed the call. I accepted the request from Mr Twain. Thirty seconds later there was a FaceTime request from him, so I accepted the call.

Mr Twain said, "Sorry about the intrusion, hope you don't mind but I just wanted to reiterate how much I enjoyed your company this evening."

I wondered if he was hoping I would invite him to my room? Weirdly I thought I might. I wasn't used to sleeping alone in bed. I thought use of the minibar would help with sleep. But we just chatted like we did before. Two hours flew by, and finally I finished the call and collapsed into bed. I awoke at 5am. I'd been dreaming. I dreamt that Mr Twain had been fucking me. I needed a wee and went to the bathroom and was surprised to find my pussy was soaking wet. Back in bed I masturbated and very soon orgasmed. I slipped back into sleep until the alarm went off an hour later.

I quickly showered, dressed and at 7am knocked on Mr Twain's door. I heard him call out, and entered his room. He'd obviously just got out of the shower. He stood there with just a towel around his waist.

Mr Twain said, "Good morning Dandelion, I trust you had a good night's sleep?"

I flushed pink as I remembered the dream and the subsequent masturbating to orgasm.

I said, "Yes thank you Mr Twain, it was very comfortable. Did you sleep well?"

He said, "Yes, it was ok thank you. What time is our first meeting?"

I said, "Well. it was scheduled at 8am, but I received a message this morning and it's been cancelled. So the next one is at 11am."

Mr Twain said, "Oh thank goodness for that, I was dreading that meeting."

I couldn't help glancing at the front of his towel. There was a definite protrusion.

He said, "Can you pass me my folded clothes on the chair there, and I will go and get dressed in the bathroom. Fix us both a coffee if you would please?"

I don't know what came over me? Without thinking the words just tumbled out of my mouth. I was just as surprised as he was.

I said, "Oh don't worry, get dressed in here. I'm sure you haven't got anything I haven't seen before."

There was a moment of embarrassed silence. And then Mr Twain laughed.

He said, "Well, if you don't mind, I certainly don't." And he dropped his towel.

I had wondered why he'd adjusted his standing position a couple of minutes earlier. It was because his cock was semi erect. As I stared at his cock, I could visibly see it twitching, each twitch resulting in a lengthening of his penis. Within seconds it was fully erect and pointing towards the ceiling. His foreskin was covering the tip of his cock but slowly retracted to reveal his glans. I'd seen a few cocks in my life, but not many, but I recognised Mr Twain's was a good looking one. Yes...there are ugly ones too! His was average size, about six inches, an in proportion ball sack, and no pubic hair. It was shaved smooth.

Mr Twain said, "Well, if I am to stand naked in front of you, it seems only fair you get naked too."

I didn't need telling twice. I quickly undressed. He looked me up and down. Then walked towards me, his cock swinging from side to side.

Mr Twain said, "My my, Miss Dandelion. You've been hiding your incredible assets from us all."

He stood so close, the tip of his penis was touching my tummy.

He said, "I know I am your boss, but in this situation I'm not. Therefore it's totally up to you how far you wish to progress."

I knelt before him, one hand held his balls, the other hand stroked along his shaft. I pulled his foreskin right up so it covered his glans then let go. I watched as it slowly retracted. Precum was leaking from the tip and I licked it off. Mr Twain shuddered. I opened my mouth, placed my hands on his buttocks and pulled forward so his penis entered my mouth and slipped to the back of my throat. With my hands now on his hips, I rocked him back and forth, his cock slid in and out of my mouth. Little whimpering noises escaped from between his lips. He suddenly moved my head off his cock.

He said, "I'm cumming!"

Well, I wanted him to cum in my mouth and I immediately grabbed his penis that was now pulsating and inserted it back in my mouth. With a grunt he started ejaculating. The hot cum squirted into my mouth, hitting the back of my throat. His penis pulsated as one jet after another of cum filled my mouth. I swallowed as much as I could but inevitably some leaked out from my mouth. His cock softened and slipped from my mouth. Long ropes of his cum hung from my mouth to the floor. He staggered backwards and sat on the bed.

I want to point out, this wasn't like me at all. I'm definitely not some crazy cock loving whore, but I was beginning to think I'd become one. My brain was working on a totally new and very different level. I'd surprised myself! But there were more surprises to come.

Mr Twain was watching me as I stood. He said, "Miss Dandelion, thank you, that was amazing. I'll make us a coffee and perhaps, after a break, you will allow me to pleasure you?"

I felt as though I was a different person. Once again words came out of my mouth that I couldn't believe I was saying. I was still calling him Mr Twain, I just couldn't bring myself to call him George.

I said, "Mr Twain, yes you will pleasure me, but you will also worship me."

He looked confused and said, "I'm not sure what you are asking me to do?"

I said, "I assume you want to fuck me? You have to earn that privilege by worshipping my mind and body."

(What the fuck? Where are these thoughts and words coming from? Oh... you the writer.)

I lay on my back on the bed in a star shape. Mr Twain knelt beside me. I briefly touched his soft cock and balls.

Mr Twain said, "I've had many secretaries and PA's over my career. But none as bright and clever as you. You made my work load so much easier, and solved so many problems. You have such a pretty delicate face, beautiful shining blue eyes. Your breasts are beautiful, with ruby red nipples. Can I suck on them?"

I nodded. His hands caressed my breasts gently pinching my nipples until they hardened. He leaned forward and sucked on them. I reached my hand out to his cock, it was semi erect.

Mr Twain continued, "Your figure is stunning. I love your pussy lips, so pink, like a flower. Can I touch it?"

I said, "You can touch it with your fingers, and your tongue."

Mr Twain moved so he was between my thighs. His fingers stroked along my slit, and gently separated my pussy lips, he leaned forward and I trembled when his tongue started licking my clitoris. I noticed his cock was now fully erect.

I whispered, "Bring me to orgasm with your mouth and tongue."

For about ten minutes he sucked and licked my clitoris and his fingers pumped in and out of my pussy. I felt my climax building up, and suddenly I gripped his head and held it down on my cunt as my head filled with exploading fireworks. I squirted too, which was unusual for me. His face was covered in my juices. I pushed his head away because my pussy was now extremely sensitive. My whole body was shaking as my climax subsided. Mr Twain was gently stroking my thighs.

I'd never had such an intense orgasm. I sat up and wrapped my arms around him. My breasts squashed against his chest. My sensitive nipples reacting against the hairs on his chest, produced a mini orgasm.

I whispered in his ear, "Now, fuck me."

Mr Twain crawled between my legs, his hard and dripping precum cock slid along my inner thighs and for a moment rested on my soaking wet pussy lips. Using my fingers I inserted it into my cunt. It slid in easily and each time he thrust forward, I pushed my hips up to meet him. He was a considerate lover. He kissed me on the lips, he used his hands to caress my breasts and nipples. My vaginal walls gripped his penis hard. We fucked like that for about fifteen minutes. He stopped a few times to avoid cumming too early.

Yes it was sensual, and erotic, but I wanted more.

I said, "Mr Twain, I'm so close to orgasming, but I need you to fuck me hard."

He suddenly sped up, his hands gripping my shoulders. His penis pistoned in and out of my cunt like a stallion. The bed squealed in protest. And then with a final thrust the bed leg broke, throwing us on to the floor, and I orgasmed as his cock pulsated and released his cum hitting my cervix.

We lay in a heap on the floor, both trying to get our breath back. Mr Twain started giggling then laughing uncontrollably. And because of the ridiculousness of the situation, I joined in. Eventually we disentangled our selves from the bedding and stood up. Mr Twain put his arms around my waist and held me close. His soft cock nestled against my pussy lips.

He said, "That was amazing, you are amazing, thank you. I really enjoyed the worshipping you bit."

I said, "It was such a turn on, made me feel very powerful, and really sexy."

And then another thought came into my head! I wonder where that came from? I pushed Mr Twain about a foot away then put my hands on his head.

I said, "I love, your shaved head, your broad shoulders, and this wisp of hair on your chest. Sort of a dad bod, but not too bad." I knelt before him, his penis just inches from my mouth.

I took his soft cock in my hand. I continued, "You have a beautiful cock, totally in proportion to the rest of your body, lovely balls and all shaved smooth. I love the fact when your penis is erect, your foreskin slowly retracts by itself." I noticed it was getting stiff again as I was holding it. My goodness he had some stamina!

I stroked from his inner thighs down to his feet, but keeping an eye on his stiffening cock inches from my mouth. When fully erect I briefly sucked on it. And then, the wanton slut I'd become, I crawled onto the broken bed on all fours.

And in that position, I glanced back and said, "Fuck me again."

Mr Twain holding his cock in his hand approached and pushed it into my vagina. He grabbed my hips and fucked me hard. This wanton slut was calling out.

"Harder, faster."

There was another cracking sound and another bed leg broke. His balls were slapping against my buttocks, and I felt his cock pulsate as he emptied what ever he had left into my cunt.

We got to breakfast just in time. He asked to see the schedule. With a red pen, he struck out other early morning meetings. We basically fucked every evening, every night and morning for two days.

Mr Twain booked as many conferences as he could get away with. We spent two very happy years together. But sadly he was promoted, and moved to London and we never met again.