Dick Slide

The Business End Of Her

CHAPTER ONE

An overcast November sky ladled a chilling downpour, sending wave after dark green wave of white-capped water crashing against the jagged rocks of the deserted beach. And in a house high up on the bluff, looking out through a mist-shrouded window, Paulette Bodine allowed her mind to wander, thinking back to the first meeting with the naked and sleeping man on the wide rumpled bed behind her.

It had been mid-July in Malibu, she recalled, watching the timeless undulation of the sea far below her. Bobby Fender, the man sprawled in exhausted slumber, his features satisfied and innocent, had suggested they have a drink after work to celebrate his promotion to Divisional Sales Manager of the entire West Coast branch of Astro-Pile Incorporated, makers of the green artificial turf that carpeted most of the major football stadiums across the country.

She folded her arms across her ample chest, looking out into the velvet night as she remembered her surprise and ready agreement to his invitation, gushing with obvious delight, "Just let me put on fresh make-up and I'll be right with you."

A small smile tugged at her scarlet mouth as she again pictured his soft eyes on her as she got from behind her desk and crossed the spacious office to the hall leading to the ladies' room, remembered the familiar warming along her thighs as she hurried the make-up onto her face and brushed out her flowing brown hair to splay regally across her slender shoulders.

"I'm ready," she announced, coming back into the office and spinning prettily for his inspection.

"You look great," he told her, letting his eyes travel over her smooth curves before taking her arm and guiding her out the door.

Paulette turned from the window and stood watching Bobby's sleeping form. A tiny smile caressed the corners of her wide-set almond eyes as she studied the features of the man who had changed her entire life. From an eighteen-year-old girl from Nebraska, she thought, to an experienced woman of nineteen had been no easy transition. But thanks to Bobby and America's growing support of football as the national pastime, she had been afforded the opportunity of womanhood, and she had taken it, gobbled it up, in fact.

She stepped lightly to the bed and sat gently beside him, careful not to wake him, and looked down into his sleeping face, seeing his slightly parted lips, his sharp cheekbones, so prominent when awake yet soft and gently rounded in repose. Using one delicate finger she pushed an errant wisp of hair back from his forehead, easing the lonely strand back into place among his wavy brown curls. She enjoyed touching him, caring for him, seeing him like this, so defenseless, so hers to fondle and hold and know every inch of his slender body.

The thin sheet that covered him was draped across his middle, no real protection from the cold, and certainly no protection from her probing eyes. Her mouth watered at the thick shape of his tool so clearly outlined against his thigh. Huge even in sleep, the shaft lay smooth under the thin sheath of material, the head a plum-sized lump in the sheer linen, sending shivering chills of anticipation coursing through her.

The tip of her coral tongue wet her lips as she stared at it, willing it to life with silent pleading, knowing the hard, rampant strength of it. And quietly, afraid to wake him, she slipped softly from the bed and slid her silver housecoat off her shoulders, letting it drop in a tangled heap at her feet before moving to the foot of the bed and slowly pulling the sheet from his body, exposing his blue-veined root to her greedy eyes.

She softly curled up near his legs, her pretty face etched with thoughtful hunger as she positioned herself, resting her head on an upraised arm only inches from his lolling tool She stared at it for long minutes, feasting on the details of the magnificent shaft, indelibly setting its flaccid size in her mind before bringing her hand to it with slow certainty, feeling the warmth of it as she hefted it into her small palm.

"You magnificent bastard," she whispered lovingly, accenting each syllable with coarse desire as she brought her lips to the wide tip.

Bobby awoke and looked down just as the ruby oval of her mouth closed over the broad head of his already lengthening prick.

"Aww," he sighed sleepily, blinking a few times to clear his fuzzy vision. "Now that my dear, is a nice way to wake up." He turned full on his back and relaxed back against the pillows, watching her consume more of his thickening shaft with each stroke of her hot and hungry mouth.

Paulette felt the surging throb as it grew, pushing further into her throat as it unlimbered its mighty length. And never taking the smooth purple tip from her mouth, she slipped between his legs and knelt, feasting on his standing manhood.

Bobby smiled lazily and interlaced his fingers behind his head, letting her have her way with his body, thoroughly enjoying her ministrations. He saw the glistening wide rim of his cock peek out from between her pouting lips as she completed each loving stroke, then saw it disappear again as she brought her mouth quickly down, attempting to take it all, delighting him and giving him a sense of power that her best efforts met repeated failure on the huge rock-hard shaft.

Paulette fondled his balls, gently rolling the smooth sac in her fingers as the slippery-skinned prick slid in and out of her willing mouth. She wrapped her hand around the base of the shaft and tried to force more of the rampant tool into her throat. She moaned softly, thinking of the plum-sized knob that held her jaws wide, wishing he would stop her and throw her on her back, exposing her furry muff to his greedy eyes before plunging his eight-inch rod into her eager cunt.

Bobby raised himself on his elbows to watch more closely. He felt her soft tongue whisper along the underside of his standing tool, then a moment later it slowly curled itself demandingly around the tip as she altered the pace of her lovemaking, playfully nibbling at the glistening head for long teasing seconds before bringing her happy eyes up to meet his.

"You're doing fine," he informed her, adding with a contented smile, "You're getting better every day."

"That's because," she said in a little girl's voice, kissing the heavy rod, "I like what I'm doing, and most importantly, I like who I'm doing it to."

"Well quit talking so much and keep doing it," he chided at her teasing. Then seeing the red-rimmed helmet lose itself once again between her moist lips, he added knowingly, "You weren't so eager to suck a dick a couple of months ago."

She took a deliberate deep stroke, feeling the silken smoothness of his manhood slide maddeningly over her tongue and into the back of her throat, thinking of what he had said. Then backing off it slowly, letting her lips drag poutingly along the shaft, she grinned impishly up at him. "I just had to be coaxed a little bit," she said, talking into his throbbing organ as if it were a microphone. "Besides," she objected gently, "I didn't know a couple of months ago that I would enjoy selling Astro-Pile so very much."

He smiled appreciatively down at her, showing an even row of white teeth, knowing the brown-haired girl gently caressing his dick had done a hell of a job lately at the "public relations" end of several of his deals, and that actual sales were coming quicker, with higher commissions too, he thought. He silently thanked her for the help she had been and said, "I'm glad you're enjoying your work so much."

"Who wouldn't?" she asked in surprise. "I met you. I make good money. I meet a lot of athletes. I-"

"And you ball a few too. Don't forget that," he interrupted.

She was suddenly humble under his scrutinizing gaze, saying with mock servility, "I thank you, Lord and Master, for the opportunity of performing my meager tasks for you."

She let her lips linger on his rigid tool in an exaggerated show of appreciation, knowing full well that everything she had she owed to him, and that she was very lucky indeed. Had I not met Bobby, she told herself seriously, I would still be an inexperienced girl from Nebraska, still at that same old typewriter at the front desk, still making coffee for the bosses, and having absolutely nothing to show for it.

A warm flood of gratitude singed her inner thighs as she fluttered little kisses along the length of his dick, extending his enjoyment and knowing her good looks and sexual talents were part of her job.

I'm here to please, she told herself for the hundredth time, knowing in her heart that if he tired of her there would be a flock of pretty girls jumping at the chance to have her job.

"Bring that tight little cunt of yours around here," he told her in a rasping voice, smiling at her immediate response, reveling in the power he had over her.

Her breathing quickened at his wheezed command. Lightning flashes of passion seared her rigid clitoris as she crawled out from between his legs, carefully keeping the swollen knob and a good portion of his dick in her warm mouth as she brought her pulsating lower half up to his caressing hands.

"Get over me," he directed hotly, gripping her hips in his large hands.

The order sent throbs of torrid desire coursing up her molded thighs. She felt her legs being spread apart as he helped her to straddle his wide chest, openly exposing the soft cleft of her very being to his greedy eyes.

He gripped the moons of her ass, kneading their yielding softness in his rough fingers. The painfully tiny pink ring of her asshole beckoned invitingly and the scarlet labia of her gaping hole smiled down at him. The horny little knob of her hooded clitoris peeked out at him through the glistening short hairs surrounding her luscious valley.

"Suck it!" he ordered, lifting his hips and forcing his rampant rod further into her throat. "Take more of it!" he commanded wildly, pressing his face against the sweet acrid crack of her cunt and driving the turgid length of his tongue into the soft folds of her well-lubricated slit.

She wiggled crazily, squatting openly wide on his tantalizing tongue, feeling his nose, his chin, the shallow padding of his smooth lips nibbling at her honey pot, prying at it, opening her velvet softness and attacking with a demonic frenzy her naked and swollen clit, rubbing it, teasing it, pushing it from side to side with Satan-like carnal delight, causing the tender nub to spasm and contract in the twilight regions of intoxicating pre-orgasm.

She screamed silently in monumental lust and forced more of his blue-veined rod into her wildly bobbing face, gripping it with clinging ruby lips and expert swirling tongue, feeling the majestic shaft throbbing in bulging response to her demanding mouth. Her face contorted with frantic purpose, bouncing her head furiously on the delicious meat, stroking it with an uncontrollable ancient animal rhythm, coaxing it with each frenzied caress to come, to meet her head on, to take her with him over that glorious edge of climax by filling her galloping mouth with a starburst gush of exotic spunk.

The corded muscles of his arms bulged in angry knots as he savagely encircled her feverishly squirming hips in a vise-like grip and gnashed his twisting face against her sodden gash. Then, like an onrushing locomotive, the burning white coal at the base of his spine grew in an unstoppable onslaught, pumping and thrashing in his straining body, forcing his hips still further upward, cramming inch after pulsating inch into her welcoming throat.

Paulette followed the dictates of her throbbing cunt, tossing her head from side to side and up and down as his tool bulged magnificently, giving herself up to the aching ecstasy circling through her fiery cleft. She greedily accepted his spurting cum, swallowing, stroking, demanding more of his jetting semen as her orgasm blazed in her quivering pussy, blossoming into a crescendo of blinding explosions and earth-shaking sensations.

After several long seconds of quiet fulfillment Paulette allowed his slack cock to loll gently from her mouth. She gave it a soft kiss on its blunt red head and wearily brought herself around and lay full length against Bobby, basking in the afterglow of sex under his big warm arm.

She snuggled close, tracing lazy circles around his hard nipples as she waited for her breathing to return to normal. Then summoning all her strength in one deep breath she let out an almost inaudible sigh of complete contentment.

"You're fantastic," she whispered softly, snuggling closer and resting her head on his broad chest.

"You're the one that is fantastic," he told her, letting a gentle finger follow the wavy route of an errant strand, of long brown hair, softly trailing the flowing tress along the smooth side of her neck and across the golden tan of her shoulder. He touched her lightly, as softly as a midnight breeze, thinking what a great team they had become.

"So soft," he marveled, pressing his lips to her hair, "yet you make me feel so good."

She looked up at him and smiled as would a Cheshire cat, her eyes dancing brightly and the full line of her mouth curving up mysteriously at the corners.

"A penny for your thoughts," he said quietly, touching the tip of her nose with a playful finger.

"Oh," she said slowly, kissing his shoulder. "I was just thinking how great it would be to stay right here in your arms and go to sleep."

He shook his head sadly. "No rest for the weary," he informed her, checking the clock on the night-stand. "You're working day is just beginning. I told Elliot Beaumont you would be at his place at eight o'clock to explain the advantages of installing Astro-Pile on his team's home field."

"Is it that important?" she pouted.

"You're damn right it is that important," he scolded, rolling off the bed and getting to his feet. "Elliot is the Head Coach of the Tigers and he carries a lot of weight in the front office. And you"-he pointed a stern finger at her-"are going to convince him that he absolutely needs new carpeting on his field." He stared hard at her for a full minute, letting what he had said sink in. "You got that?" he snapped. "You know what you have to do?"

"I understand, Bobby," she appeased softly. "I'll be good to him."

"I don't want you to be good to him," he barked harshly. "I want you to be the best!" He let his cold eyes bore into hers, making it perfectly clear that he was the boss and that she would do what he wanted or she could get the hell out. Then seeing she understood, his manner changed.

"Now c'mon," he said gently, holding out his hand to her and helping her from the bed. "Let's shower. Then I'll drop you off at Elliot's apartment."

CHAPTER TWO

The combination of the hot shower and the startling clarity of the night air served to refresh Paulette, and the expensive jasmine-scented soap and eau de perfume she was now able to afford whispered softly around her in an exotic bouquet as she slid onto the leather seat of Bobby's sports car.

The engine roared to life at the first touch of the key, rumbling with a throaty masculinity as Bobby slipped it into gear and pulled out onto the narrow winding road that snaked its way through the rugged foothills of Malibu. Millions of lights twinkled in the sprawling city below, nestling like precious jewels against a backdrop of finest velvet, dazzling the viewer with their brilliance.

"I just can't get enough of this view," Paulette sighed, letting the majestic beauty of the moment, the heady aroma of jasmine, and the pulsating roar of the exhausts remind her she was only a guest in the world of the rich, a transient body passing through if she didn't play the game according to Bobby's rules. She looked around her, comparing the countryside and the magnificent houses with those of her poor background, feeling the fates were for once on her side, allowing her to mingle in and experience the richer side of life.

My pay is more than good, she told herself. And in a couple of years, maybe sooner, I'll be in a position to dictate the lives of others. Maybe I'll do it just like Bobby, she mused, smiling over to him; a beach house at Malibu, a flashy red sports car, the best clothes, and all the elegant trimmings money can buy. After all, she added silently, I'm developing contacts now, learning to meet the right people. I've been told I'm pretty. I'm intelligent. And, she told herself with total conviction, I have the one necessary thing Bobby never had, nor never will have, to effectively close a deal.

Yes, she assured herself, primly adjusting the hem of her skirt across her knees, I have the ONE commodity the male-oriented world of business doesn't have-PUSSY!

She pushed in the dashboard lighter and rummaged through her pocket book for her cigarettes. Finding them, she extracted two, putting one in her mouth and lighting it from the cherry-red tip of the lighter, then passed it to Bobby. It's the little things in life that endear you to people, she thought calculatingly, lighting her own cigarette and replacing the lighter.

"You're a sweetheart," he said, dragging the smoke deep into his lungs.

"You make it easy for me to do things for you," she cooed lovingly, sitting closer to him and resting her hand on his thigh. "Tell me a little about Elliot Beaumont," she said, trying to picture the man that would be between her legs in a matter of minutes.

Bobby thought a moment, deftly leading the car into a wide sweeping turn leading to the valley below. "He's a big man," he said, remembering their last meeting. "About six-foot-five with a shock of unruly gray hair. He looks more like a professor than a football coach."

She smiled, picturing an absent-minded professor teaching the tactics of football to his students. Then with a grin, she thought: some students!

She remembered a purely personal date she had had with the quarterback for the Wildcats. Hell, she thought longingly, if they were all like him she would take a dozen!

"The players think he is a God," Bobby added. "He's brought the Tigers to five divisional playoffs in five years. He eats and sleeps football. He never even takes a vacation. The guy is so caught up in football that he even lives near the stadium!" He made a left turn onto the main drag, then continued. "He's got a condominium apartment that overlooks the playing field. Really swanky. He's got it fixed up real nice, and he's even got a gigantic den filled with all his trophies."

"He's not married?" she asked out of curiosity, trying to imagine a woman tolerant enough to cope with an obvious obsession.

"Nope. Maybe he never got around to it? Maybe he loves football too much? I don't know. Anyway, he's not the kind of guy you can ask questions like that. Every time I talk to him I find myself calling him Sir."

Paulette imagined him to be dictatorial: like her father. And through a series of childhood associations she recognized a familiar throbbing in her budding clitoris. She brought her knees together to increase the pressure on her aroused little nub, thinking a hard cock was what she needed to fill the empty space in her aching vagina.

Oral sex was great, she thought, and she loved it. But it couldn't compare with having her stomach filled with a pounding dick, feeling her yielding pussy stretched to breaking and her deeply buried cervix yawning open to the repeated attacks of a charging prick.

"Just remind him," Bobby interrupted her thoughts, "that having his players perform on Astro-Pile would help make his team Super Bowl champs." He turned into a long horseshoe-shaped driveway and stopped at the wide glass entrance to Elliot Beaumont's building.

He flicked at some imaginary lint on her short skirt, preening her for her debut. "Do you know what you are going in there for and what you have to do?" he asked her gruffly, his voice again showing concern about her ability to please Elliot Beaumont. But most of all his worry stemmed from the provincial attitudes she had displayed toward sex, refusing to go braless until just a few short months ago, having never sucked a dick until he had held her down and forced her.

"This guy's important," he said sternly, letting his eyes slip over her in final inspection. "Do whatever he asks," he added. "And I don't want any slip-ups!"

"He'll be begging for more," she promised, kissing him lightly on the cheek. She quickly got out of the car, closed the door, and bent to look in the window. She winked at him, then said in an imitation of Mae West, "I'll turn him every way but loose!"

He had to smile at her confidence.

"Go on. Get to work," he told her. "When you're finished take a cab home and charge it to the office."

She stood watching as the glare of his tail lights turned out onto the boulevard and merged into the onrushing traffic, leaving her staring blankly after him, nowhere near as sure of herself as she had pretended.

She stared this way for several seconds, then with a pert toss of her head she turned to the white stone building and stepped jauntily through the wide glass doors.

The door opened with a noiseless elegance at the thirty-first floor, revealing the subdued tan tones of the well-lit hallway leading both left and right.

"It's to the right, Ma'm," the elevator operator said, pointing along the carpeted hallway.

"Thank you," she said sweetly, knowing he was watching her as she turned and walked with long swinging strides to the highly polished oaken door halfway along the corridor. There she stopped and made sure her blouse was evenly tucked in and made a minute adjustment to the leather belt at her waist, feeling a delicious tingling along her inner thighs as she pressed the bell with a timid finger, knowing she was taking the irreversible step into professional prostitution.

Her panties dampened at the thought of standing naked before a strange man, doing for him what she had been taught all through her growing years was reserved for one man and one man alone-her husband.

The door opened and Mr. Beaumont, dressed in a long red smoking jacket, filled the doorway.

"Hello, young lady," he greeted smiling. "You must be Paulette. Come in-come in," he added, stepping back. "I've heard so much about you."