Ash

I watched my boss, Sir Harry Hardwick, show what must be a new starter around the office, pointing out the restrooms and the staff break room, before getting to my desk and stopping.

 

“Tracy, this is Ashwin. She is with us from our India office for the next few months.”

 

I didn’t even know we had an Indian office, but instead of questioning, I just looked up. I found myself looking at a stunning Indian woman who I guessed was in her early twenties, though I found out later she was 31, the same age as me. Her skin was the most wonderful mixture of olive brown and gold, making her almost seem to shine. Her coal black hair had the same lustre, and her almond eyes sparkled with light amusement as she looked down at me. She was slender, like a graceful willow tree, but at the same time taller than my boss, who I knew stood 6 feet in his socks. A quick glance down told me she had heels, but even then, I guessed she would still be a fraction over 6 feet.

 

I didn’t want to stand and reveal my 5’4” stature. I was also a little concerned that it would become obvious that my nipples were as hard as pencil rubbers, a fact I could conceal by staying hunched over. I could feel myself getting a little wet as I was discreetly bisexual, something I had agreed with my husband not long after we had got married. I had first become interested in my own sex when I was at university nearly 10 years ago.

 

My boss put his hand on my shoulder and squeezed it in a familiar way. “Tracy will show you the ropes, and if she gives you any trouble, I will put her over my knee and spank her.” He roared with laughter as he wandered off, and I indicated to her to pull up a spare chair whilst trying not to blush.

 

“Ashwin is a boy’s name, Aswini is for girl’s but it doesn’t matter, you can call me Ash.”

 

Her voice was amazing, like the gentle trilling song of a delicate bird. I could see the conflict on her face as she struggled to vocalise the way the boss had just spoken to me. In the end, she said quietly, “Things seem different in your country.”

 

“Don’t worry about the old man, it’s only me he speaks to like that…after all, I am his daughter-in-law.”

 

I normally kept it quiet that I was married to the owner’s son, but how else could I explain his inappropriate actions? I didn’t add that I had been giving the owner blow jobs since I started at the firm at 21. I still remember the first time it happened.

 

*****

 

 

“How are you settling in?”

 

I looked up from my desk, trying desperately not to look flustered, to see the owner standing there.

 

“It’s all fine, Mr Hardwick, sir, I have nearly finished the overseas order documentation.”

 

It was before he was knighted for services to the country, although it was well known it would happen soon, due in part to his close friendship with the prime minister.

 

In reality, nothing could be further from the truth. Hardwicks shipped goods all over the world, buying in one country and selling in another, making money on the price differences. This gave rise to the completion of export and import documentation at both ends, sometimes running through a middle country to change origin for the final destination. When it had been explained in the interview, it had seemed simple, but the reality was that it was far from simple.

 

“We can’t afford to miss the shipping deadlines.”

 

“No, Mr Hardwick, I will stay here until it’s done,” I muttered, thinking to myself that I wished he would go away and just let me finish.

 

“I will be in my office if you need me,” he said as he walked to the walled-off glass area that he called his office. I could make out his shape over his screen through the frosted glass before returning my attention to my screen.

 

An hour later, I pressed the ‘completed’ button and was gathering my stuff when it hit me. The documentation needed to be checked before six the next morning, and the only person available to check it was the boss himself. Tapping on his door, I waited until I heard him say, “Who is it?”

 

“Tracy, sir,” I said timidly.

 

He roared with laughter, “Of course it is, you and I are the only ones here.”

 

I explained about the documents needing to be checked before six the next morning. He nodded brusquely before clicking a few buttons and starting to study the screen as he waved me to sit. I could feel my heart beating in my chest as he sucked his teeth and tutted every so often. Then, to my surprise, he let out a small huff as he declared, “Done.”

 

I stood and went to leave, but as I did, he said, “I just need your opinion on this.”

 

I went round his desk to look at the screen, and to my shock, there was a picture of a woman with her mouth around a very large cock. He clicked, and the screen changed, showing more pictures of the woman sucking and then switched to a man’s hand gripping the cock. The next shot showed her face being splattered with cum, and finally her smiling as globules of seed dripped from her cheeks and chin.

 

“What do you think?” He asked.

 

“Who is she?” I asked. I didn’t need to ask who the man was as I had recognised the ring on the hand working the cock. It was the very distinctive signet ring that belonged to my boss, sitting in front of me.

 

“She is your predecessor. She left to get married with a substantial separation bonus.”

 

Although I was just 21, I wasn’t totally naive and knew the offer that was on the table.

 

“I get a blow job once a week, and you get a nice bonus at the end of the year.”

 

There was a pause and a silence between us for a few moments, and then he triggered me. I have always been sexually submissive all my life and find it almost impossible to resist a command.

 

“Suck it,” Harry said as he stood, his hard cock in his hand.

 

Dropping to my knees, I opened my mouth as wide as I could and started to suck on his member. His wasn’t the first cock I had ever sucked, but it was by far the largest, and it didn’t take long before my jaw started to ache. Such was his size that I started to gag when he hit the back of my throat, which seemed to spur him on to greater efforts. He was almost face fucking me as I coughed and spluttered when I heard him groan. Pulling out of my mouth, he finished himself off by hand, splattering my face with large globules of his seed.

 

Looking down at my cum covered face and blouse, he laughed, “Clean yourself up before you go home, and I would suggest that next time you remove your top first or bring a spare blouse.”

 

That was the pattern set, and each week, he would advise me that I needed to work late that evening to complete a special task or job. After the office was empty, I would remove my top and bra before he fucked my throat and then covered my face with his seed.

 

It had been his idea that I marry his son, Brad, and he had insisted I stay a virgin until that happened. I didn’t mention that I wasn’t a virgin with either sex, as I guessed he wanted a pure bride for his pride and joy. The blow jobs continued whenever Sir Harry felt like it, in fact, even on my wedding day, he made me suck his cock, although he didn’t stain my dress, but for once allowed me to swallow his load.

 

Brad was a nice guy who simply wanted to please his father. He took me out to dinner or on dates to the cinema or theatre, but he never laid a finger on me. It was always me who took his hand, and while we sat with couples around us engaged in heavy petting, he never moved.

 

I got the distinct feeling that I was going to become his ‘beard’, the slang expression that is attached to a woman who marries a closeted gay man. As it turned out, Brad wasn’t gay; he just wasn’t that interested in sex. Although he consummated the marriage on our wedding night, we only had sex once during our honeymoon. From there on, it was once a month if I really pushed him, so in the end, I gave up. One night, we had a big heart-to-heart talk where he insisted it wasn’t me, it wasn’t anyone else, it was just that he wasn’t into sex.

 

After I had got over the initial disappointment on our wedding night, I had offered myself to Sir Harry a few times, but he always declined, saying it was almost incest to fuck his daughter-in-law, though it didn’t stop him from using my mouth and throat on our weekly ‘meetings’.

 

Sir Harry had drawn up a prenuptial agreement that stated if I went with another man, his son would divorce me and I would be left penniless. What it didn’t say was anything about another woman, so I started having the odd lesbian affair. As a precaution to not incur the old man’s wrath, I kept them very discreet and therefore infrequent.

 

 

*****

 

 

“May I use the bathroom?” said Ash, jerking me from my thoughts.

 

I watched as she stood and wondered if she was going to be my replacement with the boss. I wouldn’t have worried, as my jaw did ache from time to time, trying to accommodate his substantial girth. I hid a wry smile of amusement as it was very much not ‘like father, like son’. Whereas the father was a good nine inches and thick, his son was half that in both length and girth.

 

Sir Harry frequently would come out with the question, “When was he going to hear the patter of tiny feet,” which would then be followed by, “Don’t forget your biological clock is ticking.” I had to bite my tongue to not retort with, “You need to ask your son about that,” or, “Chance would be a fine thing.”

 

“Maybe she will get to enjoy his cock,” I laughed to myself as I watched her back as she entered the disabled toilet.

 

I had meant to mention to her that the disabled facility should be kept clear, but as there was no written rule against it, more of an etiquette thing. But as my workflow had suddenly gone mad, it totally slipped my mind.