Friday, September 26, 2008

Mr. Bigcock - Finale by Kirsten Monroe

The next morning, I met Mr. Naughtypants, AKA Mr. Irving, early to go over the reports and help him organize his materials.

The dildo shimmied across my thigh when I walked and it was as exciting as all fuck. I'd loosened the harness to let it hang slightly on my leg, the wool fabric of my skirt disguising the rise of it nicely. I'd practiced on Marsha after our little shopping trip – she said the cock felt so real under my skirt, she was certain she could feel it throbbing when I rubbed up against her ass.

"Here you are Mr. Irving," I said, handing Mr. Greedycock his coffee. "Thanks hon," he said, grinning his nervous, "it's up to you ladies to prevent me from making an ass of myself" grin. "Love your power suit." He sipped at his coffee and laid the reports out on the conference room table.

Marsha and Ellen showed up with the PowerPoint projector and a fresh pot of coffee. Marsha handed me a package of whiteboard markers.

"The pens you ordered Mr. Irving," I said, moving closer. "We searched far and wide until we found the special-order colors you asked for -- scented yellow and black. Banana and licorice…..licorice whip, that is." When I said the word "whip," I hissed it slowly in a loud whisper. I tilted my body forward, pressing my upper thigh and the dildo into his leg. I looked up at him and winked. He stared, mouth open, startled, as I lightly ran my fingers along the edge of the cock so he could just see the outline of it through my skirt.

"Now then, I announced, spinning around quickly and raising my eyebrows at Martha. "Looks like we're ready to roll."

Mr. Bigcock twitched his way through the presentation, nervously keeping an eye on my skirt for signs of arousal. As the meeting wrapped up, he began to relax, most certainly imagining himself getting lucky with my dick in his ass on top of the conference room table with Marsha and Ellen dripping into his mouth.

"Mr. Irving," we need just a moment. Would you mind?

Mr. Bigcock checked his watch and took another eye swipe at my crotch. I swayed my hips a little for his benefit.

"Just five minutes, just a quickie," Marsha said, an evil smirk on her lips.

"Sure, five minutes, five hours, whatever you need."

I shut the conference room door and locked it.

"Well?" Mr. Naughtypants said, his face bright with anticipation.

"Well," Marsha said. "What we need from you is…."


"What we demand from you is equal opportunity employment."

Mr. Stingycock looked confused.

"Excuse me?"

"You see, when I ask Ellen to help me do spreadsheets on a Saturday, naked, she receives full compensation. Anything less is illegal."

"It's only fair Mr. Bigcock."

"Mr. what?"

I pushed Mr. Bigcock into a large leather chair and unknotted his tie, pulling it loose from his neck with a swift tug. I tied his hands behind his back and rolled him to the end of the table so he'd have a great view of the action.

"Mr. Bigcock. That's what we call you. We think you're hot. Animal hot. But you're stingy with that thing and we're not taking it any more. It's not nice to tease the girls."

"We're not showgirls," Marsha piped up. "We're not circus performers."

Ellen straddled Mr. Bigcock and squirmed in his lap. "Oh sweet dirty office sex," she cooed. "You really don't know what we're capable of, do you?"

"Now ladies," Mr. Irving said in his top exec tone. "Ladies please, you have the wrong idea."

"Shhhhh now Mr. Bigcock," Ellen said, unbuttoning his shirt and planting wet kisses up and down his neck. "We're going to show you exactly what we mean by equal opportunity."

Marsha unzipped my skirt while Ellen tugged my suit jacket off and unbuttoned my blouse. Mr. Bigcock turned the color of a stiletto stabbed tomato as I circled around him, feeling admittedly hot in black & pink French lace adorned lingerie. I tightened the harness and got that cock ready for action.

"Damn," he said again and again. "Damn, damn, hot fucking damn."

Marsha lifted her dress as Ellen lifted her skirt. They flung their shirts across a chair and sat spread-legged in matching black lace thongs at the edge of the table, their soft white skin like marble against the black glassy surface. I rolled Mr. Bigcock to the table corner for an even better view. He strained against his tied wrists as I gently parted Marsha's pink mound and teased her cunt with my tongue. Ellen nibbled at Marsha's ears and ran her fingers through her long red hair while Marsha fondled my breasts. What a team!

Mr. Bigcock now had a bulge in his pants the size of Manhattan. He twisted and moaned, his legs jerking around like he was being shocked.

"Quiet Mr. Greedypants or I'll be forced to gag you," Ellen warned him.

I pulled Ellen from the table and wrapped my arms around her front, sliding my cock between her legs and fondling her tits, her nipples hardening to my touch. "Does that feel good baby? You want my cock honey? Do you?"

"Should I Mr. Bigcock?" Ellen whispered. "Should I let her fuck me? Should I let a girl stick her dick in me? When there's a perfectly good man cock I could have? And right here in the board room? Right in front of you? Oh fuck yes!"

I slid my fingers deep into her pussy – oh my God, she was so wet and warm and ready. I slid my cock in and began pumping away. Mr. Bigcock looked like a trauma victim, sweat pouring from his forehead, his eyes dilated, explosion after explosion not happening in his pants, the buildup nearly sending him into cardiac arrest. It was fucking awesome. Ellen pulled Marsha from the table and slapped her ass hard. She finger fucked her like an animal and kissed her passionately as I banged away.

"Fuck me Andrea! Your cock feels so good. Oh yes!"

"Yes!" we all sang in unison, a chorus of angels. "Yes! Fuck yes!"

In the morning, my first email of the day was from Mr. Bigcock Naughtypants. It was a shot under his desk – a money shot worthy of Penthouse. Finally, equal opportunity employment. Some things really are worth fighting for

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