AUTHOR = Nelson
E-MAIL = withheld
I suppose that people think now that I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth. That is far from the truth. My early years were spent with my mother in a two up two down council house. I say with my mother because I seldom saw my father. He was, so my mother said, always working at setting up his company so we would have a bright future.
I suppose that is true, except my mother didn't have a part in that bright future, because on my fourteenth birthday my father left my mother in that two up, two down to live in a nice new six-bedroom house he had built especially for himself and his new "wife," a nice sexy looking eighteen year old slut he had apparently been carrying on with for two years and who had started out working for him and ended up working under him, so to speak.
I was taken with him, but if things were about to get better there were no signs of it. My father still worked all the hours God gave to build up the Company and to give Erin, the new "wife," more and more baubles.
I asked my father one day why he had left my mother and he looked at me and said, "You've seen Erin, why do you need to ask? Besides, she sucks cock so well she could get water out of a rock!"
Looking at Erin I could well believe it. Medium height (about 5 feet six) and a figure of 36D-22-34 (to my eye) she was the ideal trophy "wife." To say that Erin hated to have me around was to minimise things. She said to my face that when my father died and she inherited his money I would be out on the street without a penny, and she was always finding ways of cutting me down and belittling me in the eyes of my father, calling me a sponger and trying her hardest to make me look small in my father's eyes. So much so that it was almost a relief when my father insisted that I worked at his Company during school holidays and on Saturdays to earn my pocket money. That started when I was fifteen and had already shown a bent for mathematics.
The subject seemed to come naturally to me and I would often, when out walking, keep my mind occupied by doing what I regarded as simple arithmetic in my head, like multiplying two five-figure numbers together. When my father found out that I could do this he at first did not believe me and tested me out by shouting numbers at me and checking them out on his hand held computer. When he found out that I was always right and could produce the answer quicker than he could on his computer my work at his Company became regular and I was installed in his Accounts Department.
The fact that I could now spend holidays and Saturdays out of Erin's control was one plus in this, the other three "pluses" were Zoë, Rena and Deanna. These were three of the girls who worked at the Company. Zoë worked in the Accounts Department where I was stationed and was a shortish (around 5 feet three inches tall) slim girl of 18, with short cut hair -- I'd have said crew-cut if she had been a man -- that framed a pretty face. She always wore large bulky sweaters and the rumour was, amongst the male staff, that she had no tits. But what she did have was the world's greatest arse, ever! And she knew it too! She always dressed in tightfitting trousers that accentuated the perfect roundness of that arse, and I, and many others of the male staff, walked around with permanent hard-ons when she was walking around.
Rena was 17 and was one of the typing pool and again was slim but she had shoulder length fairish hair and probably the greatest legs ever. She too knew what she had and it was a daily bet whether or not her miniskirt would ever become short enough to show her panties. Her tits appeared small but it was everyone's wish to be able to suck on her nipples and kiss their way up her legs to reach Heaven.
Deanna too was medium height but with blonde hair down to her waist and a curvy figure that promised a nice sized pair of tits and a good pair of legs and a nice tight arse, but unlike the other two she dressed not to emphasise her assets but to minimise them. Ill fitting trouser suits were her thing that did not emphasise her backside or show her legs and it was only when she bent down that you could see the roundness of her backside and the pressure of her breasts against her loose sweater. She was the youngest at 16.
Needless to say these three were the topic of conversation every break for myself and the three lads of around sixteen whom kind of palled up together at lunchbreaks and tea breaks. Luke, who was probably the crudest of the three, was forever telling us in graphic detail what he would like to do to the three of them and although I at least was offended by his language, I had to agree with his sentiments, as did Ian and John, the other two.
He kept insisting that as my father's son I was in the best position to succeed in carrying out his fantasies, after all, he said, how could they turn the boss' son down without getting the sack? Emboldened by that I made one or two rather silly passes at each of them, only to get turned down flat. One attempt I made to feel Zoe's delicious arse was met with a hard slap around the face and the comment that, "That is one thing your father does not own and you never will!"
The slap and her comments were duly reported back to my father who laughed at me and offered to send me to a prostitute if I was desperate to get my end away, an offer I declined even though I was finding more and more that I ended up with blue balls every day through working near these three goddesses. However, I noticed him eyeing Zoë in a rather different way from then on and once saw him standing talking to her outside his office and, when he saw me there, he reached out and patted her on the backside a couple of times, winking at me as he did so. That I could not bear, my father getting close to that gorgeous arse I so coveted. Was he suggesting to me that he had got at that arse or just showing he could if he wanted to?
Then came the Christmas party, which I was forbidden to go to because I would not promise my father not to drink and the next day my other two mates were all agog because Zoe had got drunk and let Luke take her home. That lunchtime we were all eager to hear from him what had gone on and whether he had got anywhere.
"Fucked the arse off her!" he proclaimed. "Tightest, wettest pussy I have ever had. Reckon I'll be back for more of that! Funny thing though, she wouldn't let me take her top off, even when I was stoking the fire, so to speak. Anyway, I reckon she's really anal erotic. I was clinging to that gorgeous little arse while I was sticking it in her and at one point my hand slipped and one of my fingers slipped up her asshole. She went stiff as a board and came in gallons. Reckon I'll try her arse out next time."
There was no next time for Luke however. Try as he might, Zoe cut him dead whenever he went near her from then on and would have nothing to do with him.
When I went back to work at the Company after my last year at school some three years later he had left the Company to go elsewhere "Where women are women, not dried up old hags," he had said.
The three girls still remained though. Zoë had progressed into being second in command of the Accounts Department and proceeded to try to make my life a misery during that summer. Deanna was now a secretary to a minor department head and only Rena was still doing the job she had done since she joined the Company. Still none of them would have anything to do with me. Putting a check through the Company's security system I learnt that Zoë lived with her widower father who was wheelchair bound and had to rely on her for support. Money was tight I learnt and there were lots of men hanging around but she didn't have a boyfriend. Rena did not have a boyfriend either, although the report said she had lots of admirers and queried whether she had lesbian tendencies as she sometimes frequented gay bars. Only Deanna came out "normal," having lots of boyfriends but apparently no one special.
After the summer it was off to University to take a Math degree and all thoughts of the girls, the Company, and Erin almost went from my mind as I knuckled down to hard work and hard play. There were girls at Uni of course. I found it easy to pull the best and the prettiest, having my own place off campus and, unlike a lot of my fellow students, enough spare cash, thanks to my father, to be able to afford to take them wherever they fancied. My bed was probably the busiest place on campus and jealous fellow students joked that I should install a turntable in place of the bedroom door. However, occasionally a girl would arrive in my bedroom who reminded me of Zoë, though there was never one whose arse lived up to hers, Rena's or Deanna's, but the actuality of those never lived up to the imagined charms of Zoë, Rena and Deanna. I would have swapped all of those girls for one crack at the gorgeous three.
I had just finished the first year, having skated through my exams, and I was packing to go home and spend another summer yearning for the three girls when there was a knock on the door of my flat. My life was about to change again.
It was my father's solicitor. My father, it seemed, had been killed in a car crash two nights ago and though it was not normal he had contacted me to tell me I was the sole beneficiary under his will because it was important that someone took charge of the Company to ensure that decisions were taken and the smooth running (and profitability) were maintained. His only proviso was that I should look after Erin.
I returned home immediately wondering what I was going to do. I had always planned on going on after passing my degree into research work. Could I still do that? Would I have to ditch my plans and run the Company? Strangely enough it was Erin who made up my mind.
"So, you got the lot," she said as I opened the door. "I always thought I would get his money. I suppose I have to rely on you to treat me right from now on."
I looked at her. At 23 her charms were just as blatantly obvious as ever, even in a dark business suit which clung to where it should have clung, and made her look like she had one of the wet dreams I'd had about her five years ago.
"Yes," I replied. "Looks like you will!"
"Well, you'll want to know what I will expect from you," she said. "I want a very generous allowance, the right to live here as long as I want, and the ability to go where I want when I want with no question! And to be able to entertain who I want when I want!"
I felt my blood boil at this heartless show of so called superiority. After the hell she had made of my earlier life she was making demands of me? I decided to show her who was boss!
"What I give you is what I will want to give," I said. "If you want something you will have to earn it! Now get upstairs to my bedroom, take your clothes off and you can start earning what you want. I want to see if my father was right about your cock sucking abilities!"
She bridled and stamped her foot. "I will not! You cannot come in here making demands of me! You can go to hell!"
I held the front door open. "Then you can leave. Go and try to earn your money on the streets. I'm sure that there is a massage parlour around that will employ your talents and you might earn a fiver a blowjob and a tenner a fuck while you live in some pokey old flat somewhere!"
She looked at me and then at the open door, then around at the house she had lorded over for so long, and with a sigh walked to the foot of the stairs and started climbing them. "Will you be long?" she asked.
Five minutes later I was lying naked on my bed whilst she sucked and licked at my cock. I had to admit what my father said was right and, after I had shot my first load down her throat, I had her suck me hard again so I could fuck her doggy style on the bed. Afterwards, she was submissive and compliant and for the next week I regularly fucked her wherever and whenever I wanted to, all around the house -- in the bedroom, the kitchen, and the sitting room, even on the stairs. She was definitely a good fuck and amenable to everything I suggested so I resolved to keep her around until something better came along.
Two weeks later I was officially voted Managing Director of the Company, despite several of the Board Members being opposed to the idea, but with 95% of the shares against 1% for each of the other 5 directors it was a forgone conclusion. My first act as Managing Director was to fire the three that had opposed me.
When I strode into the office the day after, it was amazing the change in some of the people who worked there. I had suddenly been promoted to "Mr Tony" and even Zoë seemed nervous and deferential when talking to me. I soon found out why. Mrs. Gaines, the head of the Accounts office, had announced her retirement, not before time I thought. She was pushing 70 and Zoë had been proposed as her replacement. I arranged that I would interview Zoë at 5.30pm that evening, after the others had left. I spent the whole day eagerly anticipating the interview whilst dealing with 100 and one problems that had arisen in the last couple of weeks.
When Zoë came into my office I was pleased to see she was wearing her traditional tight trousers and that her arse had lost none of its perfection, although at 23 I had expected it to look a little fatter or to be losing definition.
"So, you want to be Mrs. Gaines' replacement," I said.
"Yes, you know that I can do the work and will do a good job for you and the Company," she said. "I'm dedicated to the Company and want to see it progress."
And I want to see that arse of yours I thought.
I talked to her for a few more minutes and then we got around to discussing salary. "I propose to start you on an extra £15,000 a year. That is more than Mrs. Gaines gets, but it will reflect various extra duties you will have to perform," I said.
"Extra duties?" asked Zoë, her eyes lighting up at the significant increase in salary.
I stood up and walked to the door of my office and locked it. "Yes," I said, "and you can start them now. Get your clothes off. I want to see the arse you told me I would never get my hands on!"
Zoë blustered, "No! I won't do that! If that is what is involved I do not want the job! I'll carry on as I am now!"
"Oh no," I said, "I don't want people who are not eager for advancement, not ambitious. Go and empty your desk, your employment here is terminated now!"
Tears ran down from her eyes. "But I cannot afford to be out of work"
"You either take the job with its extra duties or you leave straight away," I said.
I could see the thoughts flash through her head -- £300 more a week or a time on the dole. In the end the £300 won and she slowly stood and undid her trousers and let them slide to the floor. Her panties followed.
"Now, bend over the desk," I commanded.
She meekly did as she was told.
I took the jar of Vaseline I had brought earlier out of my desk drawer and walked around behind her. Then, for the first time, I stroked the cheeks of her marvellous arse before putting a glob of Vaseline on my finger. I pressed the finger into her little star shaped asshole and started revolving it. A low moan broke from her lips and when I put my other hand under her and brushed it against her pussy I found it amazingly wet. Gradually, I went from one finger to two, marvelling at how her little anal opening opened up to my prodding and circling.
Eventually, I unzipped my fly and pulled out my cock and aimed at the tight rectum opened up before me. The head of my cock slid in and then I began pushing deeper for further penetration. Two minutes later and I was ramming my cock deep up her glorious arse, marvelling at the tight and gorgeous feeling that buggering her had on my cock. She was moaning and groaning as I stroked into her arse and eventually she began pushing back at me, urging me ever deeper into her. She came with a startling scream and started urging me to "Fuck my arse, fuck it harder." And I knew that Luke had been right, that she was indeed anal erotic. When I finally came and collapsed on top of her she meekly enquired whether I would be able to do it again, soon.
Now, two years later, I kneel on the king sized bed, reaming Zoe's arse again -- it is still as glorious as ever -- while Erin lays beneath her, lapping at her pussy. Rena, who it turned out was bisexual, laps at Erin's pussy and behind Rena, Sally -- a new girl chosen for her looks, figure and adaptability -- worships at Rena's pussy, getting her ready for fucking by me when I have cum in Zoë.
Zoë was indeed flat-chested but an operation soon cured that and gave her a small but perfectly formed pair that I could hang on to when reaming her tight little arse or taking her doggy style in that equally tight pussy of hers. Erin joins in the games I like to play with a willingness that she knows is essential to keep living the good life in this house, and Rena is happy to let me fuck her regularly providing she gets a supply of pussy to suck and lick before I take her.
I now employ staff only for their looks and bedability and each one knows that their job relies on both doing the work adequately and satisfying me whenever I ask them. The Company makes money faster than I can spend it or overpay staff with it and the future looks good all around. My one regret is that Deanna got married and left the Company although I hear that the marriage is in problems and she is asking about whether she can come back and work for me. I think back and I am sure that I can find her a position, well five or six actually!
I never got my degree, but if I had it would have been a B.A. in licentiousness!
THE END
