"Golden Shower" for the Boss
"Where the hell are those damn reports!" Francis was genuinely furious, roughly rifling through the huge pile of papers on his desk. "Did I really flush them all down the toilet while hungover?! Damn hangover!"
Just a minute ago, representatives from one of the major companies had given the 'go-ahead' to sign an important contract, under the terms of which his firm, 'Suno', was finally set to go international! However, as if by some unwritten law of meanness, all the papers related to the company had vanished into thin air! They were simply nowhere to be found!
Continuing to quickly sift through various folders with his hands, Francis desperately scanned his office (a small, cozy room with pale milky walls, one black leather sofa, a couple of similarly dark leather armchairs, one oak desk, and three windows covered with white-striped sun blinds), but again found no trace of the needed papers!
"Ugh, I probably really wiped with them..." he finally sighed, leaning back wearily into the softness of his chair. "So much for 'going' to the 'level', to the 'markets'... Miserable fart!"
Sprawled on his boss's "throne," he stared blankly at the whiteness of the ceiling—stared with the gaze of his large silver-gray eyes, which perfectly adorned his masculine, broad face with its large upturned nose, full lips, and red mustache that smoothly blended into a small growth of equally red beard.
"Ugh-heh, I'm well over forty, and still no use..." Francis began to 'execute' himself again, but... suddenly brightened up. "Wait a minute, old man! Maybe that damn Annabel stuffed those papers somewhere?! Yes, yes, Annabel! She's certainly not the brightest secretary, but she knows her job!" With this thought, he immediately pressed the button on the white intercom and, leaning over it, boomed loudly:
"Annabel, to my office, now!"
"Yes, sir!" a pleasant female voice immediately responded with a crackle from the device. "On my way!"
Waiting, he, with newly flared hope, directed his silver gaze toward the entrance door—and not even a minute had passed before it opened and a rather tall secretary entered the office.
"Is something wrong, sir?" she asked him, immediately noticing the chaos reigning on the desk.
"Yes, Annabel," confirmed Francis, in turn, not without interest looking her over from head to toe. "I've lost some important reports related to the 'Phoenix' company... You haven't seen them by any chance, have you?"
"No, sir. But I can look..."
"Ugh, Annabel, I've already turned everything upside down here..."
"I'll still try, sir..."
"Well, look then..."
She gracefully clicked her heels over to the desk and immediately began rifling through the papers. He, watching her actions, kept looking at her.
Being a thirty-year-old lady nearly six feet tall, she had a short black bob haircut, a pretty face with the soft gaze of large dark brown eyes, a prominent aquiline nose, full, luscious lips (brightly painted with dark purple lipstick), and a round, slightly protruding chin. (Porno rasskazy) Strictly adhering to the office dress code, she wore a leopard-print jacket, a short black skirt, and shiny black boots on high 20-centimeter heels.
"Annabel is actually quite tempting..." thought Francis, already lowering his gaze to her prominent ass and incredibly long, slender legs. "And how have I not fucked such a filly yet... A dusky filly, smelling of sweet caramel perfume..."
"They're really nowhere, sir," Annabel said after a while, also not finding the needed reports.
"I told you..." he only grumbled, and with a surge of burning annoyance, boomed gloomily. "Ugh, it seems our contracts are done for... Damn it, what a curse!"
With a face almost expressing sorrow, he leaned back in his chair again.
"Well, don't be so upset, sir," said Annabel, standing over him a bit at a loss. "Maybe they'll still turn up..."
However, Francis was no longer listening to her, mentally giving himself over to not-so-rosy calculations of possible losses.
"Sir, can you hear me?" the tall secretary addressed him again, and, placing her hands on his shoulders, whispered as tenderly as possible. "Everything will be fine, sir... It'll all work out..."
Feeling her long fingers (with sharp manicured dark purple nails) suddenly begin to softly massage his shoulders, he involuntarily distracted from his thoughts and looked at her in surprise:
"What are you doing, Annabel?"
"A massage, sir," she replied with a smile. "I used to work as a masseuse, and believe me, I know how to relax people after hard work..."
He wanted to ask something else, but... gave in to this unobtrusive pleasure, because, under the skillful actions of her fingers, he really felt significantly lighter—they seemed to strip off all the accumulated clumps of constant tension from the day!
"Good, ah, good..." Francis only praised her, even closing his eyes in pleasure.
"I'm glad you're feeling better already, sir," the long-legged secretary said, still with the same smile, continuing the casual massage.
She worked her fingers a bit more intensely, and soon he could only sigh sweetly: a pleasant "current" coming from her fingertips washed over his entire body and, as a distant echo of warmth, already stirred up sexual desire.
"Annabel..." Francis said tenderly, simply melting from her touch. "How many cups of coffee have you had today?"
"Probably no less than seven, sir," answered the office "eagle."
"And, I hope, haven't gone to the toilet even once yet?"
"No, sir. I know your rules..."
"Excellent! As you can see today, because of the lost reports, I'm not in the best of spirits, and therefore I need special consolation..."
"I understand, sir. I'm always ready to console you."
"Nice to hear, dear. Ah, how I've missed your life-giving moisture!"
Like a cat that's eaten its fill of cream, he stretched his lips into a satisfied smile and sighed with relief, because "special consolation" in his office meant a long-standing spicy pastime he resorted to in moments when work stress became simply unbearable. A pastime that involved all secretaries being obliged to sometimes drench him with a "golden shower"—i.e., literally urinate on him! And, over all twenty years of his successful business career, quite a number of girls and women had voluntarily gone through this "wet" affair (for which he gave generous bonuses on top of their basic salary!)
"You have quite strong shoulders..." Annabel noted at some point. "The shoulders of a truly strong man..."
"True—despite being over forty, I'm still strong..." said Francis. "I'm strong in everything."
"Really, sir?!" she feigned surprise.
"Don't you believe me, Annabel?!" he opened his eyes. "Everything about me is strong. Absolutely everything."
"Can I check, sir?" the "eagle" winked playfully.
"Of course, I'd be only glad, Annabel..." he smiled at her, immediately understanding the spicy hint.
With a sparkle in her ignited dark eyes, the secretary slowly spread his legs and, kneeling between them, began to casually stroke her palm over... the crotch area of his dark trousers! The place where a decent bulge of his passion was already clearly tenting!
"Well, how about it, Annabel?" Francis addressed her with a condescending smile, already feeling an outright rush of blood to his fleshy genitals. "Do you believe now?"
"I feel something, sir, but I'd like to see," she joked, not stopping her rubbing. "And also... to hold it in my hand a little..."
"Ah, you sly one!" laughed Francis, only getting more turned on by her answer. "Alright, do whatever you want with it—today it's completely at your mercy..."
Winking at him playfully once more, Annabel, with the actions of her nimble fingers, instantly unbuckled his belt, then his fly, and, pulling down his dark blue briefs, finally exposed his manly treasure—a thick, pale-brown sausage of a cock (already practically at "battle stations"!) and a large scrotum of balding balls, thickly shrouded in dark-red hairy bushes!
Without wasting a second, she took the shaft of the cock into the tube of her fingers, moved its veiny flesh a couple of times and... immediately ran her tongue over the swollen "strawberry" of his huge head!
"Ummmm!" Francis sighed immediately, feeling at the "tip" a completely different "current," from which his vision instantly darkened and "goosebumps" of bliss broke out. "You're clever... Clever, 'masseuse'..."
But the secretary, as if already "getting into the taste," didn't answer him—continuing to leisurely lick the foreskin, she began to occasionally take the head into her lips, simultaneously, with businesslike efficiency, brushing away the dark bangs falling into her eyes with her other hand.
"Mmmm, she knows her business..." Francis curled up even more, even hunching in the seat from the burning slides of her pale-pink tongue. "Wants to take the 'bull by the horns' right away... Mmmm... No, you hook-nosed bitch—I'm not one of those who finish quickly!"
Annabel, skillfully "tormenting" his head (which only bloomed more vividly with a lively bluishness from her caresses!), began to massage the shaft with her hand a bit faster—this time, with a certain carelessness, slightly shaking her head.
Hearing the boss's growing moans above her, she again began playfully plunging his sexual "cone" into the warm embrace of her purple lips, now, with each "plunge," making strong sucking motions! This caress acted immediately—within a minute, the massive cock in her hand had completely hardened and stretched out to its full 28 centimeters, and into her mouth... flowed the first colorless, sweet juices of true male desire!
"Yes... Oh, yes..." groaned Francis, in the rapidly overwhelming feelings, even starting to stroke the black hair of the sucking "eagle." "You're a smart one... Oh, my dear..."
"Damn, she's just too skilled!" thought Francis, squinting from the strain, feeling the sperm simply boiling in his balls. "Need to do something... Mmmm... Otherwise, I'll cum like a rookie NOW!"
"Annabel, dear..." he addressed her aloud in an almost pleading tone. "Enough licking my head... Move on to my balls... They're also quite tasty and appetizing..."
Still without uttering a single word, the secretary immediately obeyed him—softly pushing the cock aside toward his stomach with her hand, she, again "shooting" glances with her eyes, shamelessly ran the tip of her tongue over his hefty balls!
"Yes, that's it... oh, Annabel!" he cried out passionately, with new pleasant sensations, immediately feeling some relief. "Lick them, kiss them, bite them... Come on, my dear..."
Encouraged by his words, the "eagle" really buried her "beak" in the club of the penis and... simply sank her teeth into the scrotum!
"Oh, my God!" Francis even shuddered, with instantly breaking sweat, feeling his balls almost disappearing completely into her mouth. "What... what the hell is she doing?!"
Not without horror, instantly reflected in his steely eyes, he looked down at the seriously engrossed sucker, and, at some point, even mentally said goodbye to his genitals! However, Annabel, after lightly biting the manly sexual pouch, pulled her tongue out again, and, as if nothing had happened, ran it over his veiny shaft again!
"Ugh-ooh... I think I'll go crazy with her!" Francis sighed deeply, raising his gray eyes to the ceiling. "She's not a woman, she's some kind of tigress! A tigress in a 'leopard' skin!"
Annabel, paying no attention to his sighs, again began to gently massage his sexual club with her hand, simultaneously swallowing with her mouth the sweetish head of its oozing, plump end: she began to feast on it so intensely that she immediately covered its "swelling" with the purple smear of her wearing-off lipstick!
"Mmmm... mmmmm..." Francis moaned again, boiling over again from all the caresses of her tongue, gently tormenting the tip of the wet circle of his foreskin. "Oh, Annabel... Please stop... I can't... Mmmm... Your tongue... Annabel!"
With the sharply returning feeling of an approaching climax, he, still not wanting to become a "rookie," decisively placed his hands on her shoulders and... pushed her elongated face away from his "sausage"!
"What's wrong, sir?" she asked, raising her dark gaze to him. "Did I do something wrong?"
"On the contrary, dear," objected Francis, breathing heavily from her by no means ceased handjob. "You, dear, just drove the 'horses' too hard... I don't know who you were with before, but I'm not one of those who finish the game so quickly..."
"Forgive me, sir... I'm ready to do whatever you say..."
He involuntarily smirked—the feigned tone of an "obedient slave" coming from the full lips of the dark-haired office "eagle" didn't match at all with the frank predatory glints in the bottomless pools of her eyes—pools that just kept "sucking him in" with an indescribable mysterious magnetism!
"I want you to give me a massage with your tits now," he leered vulgarly, and, himself, reaching for her, began to unbutton the dark buttons of her jacket.
Quickly unbuttoning them, Francis pulled the "leopard skin" off the secretary down to her elbows, and not without pleasure looked at her revealed chest—encased in a dark-red bra, it protruded forward with mounds of a 2nd size.
"Not much..." he grumbled, continuing to grin, and sharply pulled the bra down.
From this action, Annabel's "lemons" immediately popped out like pale marshmallows, pointing their large dark-pink cherry nipples at the boss!
Understanding what kind of "massage" he now wanted, the "eagle," grabbing her not-so-large tits, gently "hugged" the rod of male love with them and began to massage it with leisurely movements.
"Yes... that's it... oh, yes..." praised Francis, feeling the new spicy caress. "You're clever..."
Feeling the cock pleasantly sliding between her small but quite velvety, firm breasts, he smacked his lips sweetly and once again brushed the unruly bangs from her face. She, in response to such attentiveness, began to massage the sexual shaft even more energet