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Subject: New Story: Come, Harvest 2/3 (a little bit of everything)
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COME, HARVEST 2/3
No one under eighteen years of age should be reading this. Wait until you get
older so stories like this can be understood in the proper perspective and you
can draw clear lines between fantasy and reality.
This story may not be reproduced or reposted except with permission of the
author.
COME, HARVEST
part 2
My new job promised to be exciting. The company was a boutique finance
firm which provided both senior and mezzanine debt to middle market sized
companies. It was a twenty person firm owned by three partners, Dave, Jack,
and Alan. The partners were all young, dynamic guys, successful and in good
shape. I became the unspoken center of attention in the office and among the
partners.
Things were going well for me these days both personally and in business.
I was getting my cream quota from many different sources. In fact, back in
college, I started my own personal sperm bank. I collected samplings as
mementos from the various studs I had milked. I would take the extracted
samples and put them into clear vials to which I added a solution to preserve
the specimen and keep it from dehydrating. The past six months, I had grown my
collection at the fastest clip yet. Presently, I had well over a hundred vials
with names attached. I would periodically examine them to stimulate past
memories as well as to stimulate current twat juices.
Despite all that energy spent gathering, I graduated college with honors.
I was determined to be successful in business as well and I put in serious
hours at the new firm. That’s why I got so mad one night at the office
Christmas party when I inadvertently overheard a conversation through an air
vent from an adjoining bedroom. The three voices I heard were Sharon, Cindy
and Darlene, the wives of my three bosses.
“I don’t know why they hired her, but I don’t trust her.”
“Oh, c’mon Sharon. You mean you don’t trust Dave.”
“We’re serious Cindy,” said Sharon. “Look at her, those knockers sticking
out two feet. If those melons were any bigger they could sell them at the farm
stand.”
“Listen, Cindy, would you trust Jack on an out of town business trip with
her?” said Darlene. She and Alan are supposed to go on a trip in two weeks and
I don’t like it.”
“But how can you hold things against her because of her looks?”
“Don’t be naive, Cindy,” said Sharon. “A young woman as beautiful as that
given a junior associate position right off the bat. You know what that’s all
about. She’s got our boys mesmerized. I don’t like it and I’m going to get her
fired.”
“How can you do that?” asked Cindy.
“Dave will do anything I want if I hound him enough,” said Sharon.
“Before we were married the bastard made me sign a prenuptial agreement so I
won’t ever divorce him but believe me, eventually, I always get what I want
from him. He has to live with me,” she concluded with a wicked tone in
her voice.
“And I’ll work on Alan,” said Darlene. It may take a while, but shortly
after the coming year, little Miss perfect will be canned and shipped off to a
new meat market.”
“Well, I’m out of this,” said Cindy. “She’s given me no reason to want to
see her fired. I think you two are being unfair.”
This was bad news. Even without Cindy working on Jack, having Dave and
Alan wanting me out was more than enough to do the job. In fact, I knew Dave
alone held 60% of the shares as founding partner and his wife, Sharon, was the
ringleader of this little conspiracy. I had no sexual interest in their men.
Not that they weren’t attractive--they were. It’s just unprofessional to screw
where you work. I mean, I’m capable of anything as the episode with Danny
proved, but I had to have damn good cause; well, these two bitches had just
given it to me. I was going to have to move quickly to preempt Sharon and
Darlene. Little did they know that they had just created a self fulfilling
prophecy and soon, there would be two new contributors to my sperm bank.
I did leave town two weeks later with Alan on that business trip. We were
in another city for three days, each of us operating out of separate suites in
a posh hotel. Before the trip, I had called around to professional video
suppliers and located exactly what I needed: a high resolution video recorder
with a tiny remote pen camera like
they use for medical exams or in spy movies. It was an expensive rental, but
one I knew would pay off in spades. I rigged the gear up in my room and tested
it. It worked perfectly.
That night Alan and I worked until eight o’clock but there was still more
work to prepare for the next day. After dinner, I began to implement my plan.
“Look, Alan, I’m a little tired, but give me a few minutes to get changed
and freshen up then why don’t you meet in me in my suite and we can finish
preparing for tomorrow?”
“Sounds like a plan,” he replied.
“Good. Come by then in about thirty minutes.”
I returned to my suite, showered, and put on a very loose fitting blouse
but no bra. The blouse was not extremely low cut as to be obviously
provocative but when I bent over my waist in front of the mirror, an ample
view of my bare tits was afforded including the nipples with their huge dark
coronas that made men wild. Sans panties, I then donned a light material skirt
cut well above the knees. Without the panties and positioning the lights in
the room a certain way, my thick dark bush--a genetic asset from my
Mediterranean background-- was outlined ever so slightly at the top juncture
of my thighs. One final check of the video equipment and all was ready.
A few minutes later, there was a knock on the door and I opened it.
“Come on in,” I invited Alan with a warm smile and a flash of my perfect
white teeth.
“Feeling better?” he asked.
“Definitely. I got a second wind and I’m ready for anything,” this said
with emphasis on the “anything”.
“Great. Shall we get to it?”
“Sure,” I replied. “Join me for a drink first?”
“Why not? I could use something at this point. How about a scotch and
soda?”
“Coming up.”
I went to the mini bar and poured our drinks, making sure to bend over as
far as I could. I estimated this maneuver would give him a view of my pussy
lips protruding below the crack of my ass and above the juncture of my thighs
along with some tufts of the luxuriant dark hair lining my slit. As soon as I
turned, I saw his eyes dart to one side. As I neared him to hand over the
drink, I noticed his hand shaking so I assumed his first look at my pussy had
done the job. Now I closed in for the kill. I bent over the coffee table to
hand him the drink.
“Why don’t you taste it first to see if it’s to your liking,” I said,
freezing in my leaning position with a big smile.
I saw his eyes glance down my blouse and I turned my head to the side for
a moment as if looking for something in the corner of the room. I knew he
could not look at my eyes and down my blouse at the same time and I wanted him
to get a good view of my tits.
After some seconds, he made a sound to clear his throat and said, “Uh,
yeah...this is great.”
I then sat down on the sofa next to him and he started going through the
motions of work. I kept leaning forward as if to examine the figures on the
table. His words and his train of thought kept drifting off each time he
feasted his eyes on my round paps, now just an arms length from his grasp.
Finally, I felt his hands coming under the bottom of the loose blouse
top, reaching around to cup my tits, his forefingers and thumbs kneading my
nipples to into hard points . Without removing his hands, I turned my face to
his. I saw a look of uncertainty. He was probably wondering if he did the
right thing.
“Mmm, that feels good,” I purred to reassure him.
That was enough. He then started running one hand up and down my leg
while the other continued working my tit. Slowly, his caressing hand spiraled
up my leg and thigh. He then used his hand to slide the ends of his fingers up
and down the sensitive skin at the juncture of my inner thigh and the sides of
my pussy lips, being careful to not yet breach the folds covering my juicing
hole.
Now he wanted the whole package. He easily pulled the blouse over my head
and outstretched arms,then yanked my skirt down and off my legs. He pushed me
back to a supine position on the sofa, grasped the insides of my thighs above
the knees and split my legs as far apart as they would go. I saw the feral
look of triumph on his face, finally getting a first hand look at the pussy
that had been tantalizing him all night.
“Jesus, that is the hairiest most beautiful cunt I’ve ever seen.”
He used both hands to spread my pussy lips so that I could feel the cool
air flicking at the opening of my lewdly exposed orifice. He moved his head
in, running his nose and lips through my hairy thatch, collecting the moisture
there like gathering dew drops from a lush field of grass. Moving slightly
downward, the bridge of his nose slid along my clit as he deeply inhaled to
smell my aroma. I knew he was wild about my body and wanted to fill his senses
with me. Finally, he tucked his hands under my ass, drew my pussy tight to his
face and started to eat me with abandon. I came hard after a few minutes. He
then lost no time in plunging his meat into me and it went in smooth as butter
thanks to the copious lube I produced.
“Shit, Jesus, you big titted, gorgeous cunt! Fuck me back with that wet,
hairy pussy!” He was growling like an animal out of control, squeezing my
tits, inserting one, then two fingers up my pussy lubed asshole. He squeezed
the membrane separating my ass and pussy between his fingers and his pumping
cock. I maneuvered to make sure the camera got all this and I fucked him until
he rolled off me panting like a dog.
I had preprogrammed this session for him to come three times: once inside
of me, once when I would blow him and finally when I would jerk him off. I
already had his stuff in me. Ten minutes later, I sucked him back to a plank
hard edge, and my wet mouth in concert with my ball caressing fingers soon had
his cock shooting its warm stuff down my throat in torrents. This was to
satisfy my sense of taste. Last of all I needed my souvenir, my trophy for my
collection of memorabilia.
“Hell baby, I’m exhausted. Don’t you quit?” he asked with half opened
lids.
“Now, you just relax, honey. Close your eyes and let me do the work. Just
lie back,” I said as I lulled him into semi- consciousness.
I began the masturbation of his cock. Using my own juices to facilitate
the process, I expertly stroked his manhood, easing my grip at the base of his
dick, exerting more squeeze and pressure on the upstroke to stimulate the
sensitive glans on the underside of the cock head. His cock grew progressively
in length until suddenly, it seemed to get hotter and instantly jump to full
extension in my palm. His balls tightened as did his thigh and ass muscles,
then pearly cream began to fountain out of the cock end in frothy waves. The
cum didn’t squirt out--I had drained him of too much stuff earlier--but it did
flow out smoothly, bountifully, and in a steady rhythm. I loved being able to
see the tangible results of my manipulations, something that men really can’t
experience to any great degree in the obverse.
I got up to go into the bathroom, ostensibly to wash off. I cupped every
drop of Alan’s shoot in my right hand. Once in the bathroom, I pulled out a
vial with Alan’s name on it and deposited his cum into the vial. I licked off
any residue that spilled over the sides, wiped the vial clean and then used an
eyedropper to add the preservative. I packed the vial away. I then placed my
arms on the wash basin and leaned against the sink. I smiled, closed my eyes and thought: one down, one to go.
END PART 2
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