Company Expenses

(Part 1 from 2)

Several months ago I was asked to set up a new project for my company, in Europe. It meant being away from home four or five nights every week, staying in wonderful hotels. It was only meant to last for three months, and the money that I was offered was out of this world. 

The first couple of weeks were fantastic; eating in superb restaurants, living like a lady of leisure, and then the novelty wore off. One hotel began to resemble another, and I was becoming bored and lonely.

Everything changed one night in Brussels. I had just finished eating dinner, when our European IT Director, Marcus, entered the bistro. “Victoria? Hi! I thought it was you,” he greeted me, kissing me on both cheeks, then sat down, next to me. I’d been introduced to him, the previous week, and had been mesmerised by his pale blue eyes, and sportsman’s stature. One of my assistants had told me that he had a ‘reputation’ among the female staff, and may have fathered at least two of their babies.

Without stopping for breath, he called the young waitress over and ordered more coffee. When she stood next to him, his hand rested on her bottom, as she leaned forward, to take his order. This wasn’t unusual, as Marcus was a jolly, ‘feely-touchy’ type of person; nothing seemed to upset him and he was incredibly self-confident, not surprising, for a 50-year-old multi-millionaire.

“How are you enjoying yourself? Is the hotel looking after you?” He laughed as he winked at me. I told him that it had been great, but with being away so much, I was bored and couldn’t wait for my job to end, the following month. While we drank our coffee, Marcus cheered me up, with stories about his life; he had been a lifeguard in Spain, a market trader in London and even a ‘male model’ in Canada. Taking my hand, “I’m going for a swim, will you join me?” He asked. 
“I haven’t got a swimming costume, with me,” I shrugged my shoulders and shook my head.

“I’ll buy you one. Come with me,” and the next that I knew, we were standing in the hotel shop, and he was holding a white bikini in front of me, “This looks like your size,” he grinned. “It might be, but it won’t cover very much!” I laughed, as I picked out a more modest one-piece suit. “No! I like this one,” he said as he walked past me, telling the assistant to charge it to the company account. Handing it to me, he told me, “I’ll meet you in the pool.” Then disappeared.
I looked at my reflection in the changing room mirror, “My God! It really doesn’t cover much!” I thought to myself. It did look very sexy. My 38DD breasts are still quite firm, but were nearly falling out of this bra, and the briefs were so low and small, they didn’t even cover all of my bushy pubes. 

Self-conscious and embarrassed, I walked towards Marcus, who was the only person in the pool. He looked really good, as he leant against the side. His hair was thick and wavy, greying at the sides, and his muscular chest and stomach were covered in tight, curly hair, which was also grey. He waved his hand, beckoning me beside him. “I was right, you look magnificent. Your husband is a very lucky man, I will now feel guilty every time I send you away.” 

I blushed as I slid into the cold water, which instantly made my nipples poke through the skimpy material. “Pleased to see me?” He laughed, as he raised his eyebrows. I grinned, as I swam away, doing a very basic breast- stroke. He quickly caught up, and chatted to me as we swam.

After five minutes I became tired, so we stopped. I held onto the pool- side, while Marcus chided me for being unfit, and tormented me by tickling my sides, and diving between my legs, tugging at my feet. I couldn’t remember the last time that I had laughed so much.

“Let’s go in the Jacuzzi,” he said, as he climbed out of the pool. He had already started the bubbles, when I approached. The smile on his face told me something was wrong; I looked down, my white bikini had become almost transparent! Not only could he see my pink nipples, but my pubes were also, clearly visible! I looked shocked, and pretended to cover myself with my hands. The effect I was having on him was exciting me.
“You don’t need to do that, you look beautiful,” he reassured me, as I sat beside him. His constant chatter and flirting combined with the warm bubbles made me relax, very quickly.

Marcus put his arm around my shoulder, and began whispering, how sexy and gorgeous I was, and how much he’d fancied me when he had first met me. Then he kissed and nibbled my ear, it felt wonderful as I closed my eyes, and drifted off to some hot beach in the Caribbean. One of his hands slowly stroked my left breast as the other slid over my stomach, then, inside the elastic of my pants. 
I should have stopped him, but I hadn’t had sex for over a week, and he was making my love nest tingle like a honeymooner. Two of his fingers were now rolling around my nipple, while his other hand was tugging at my long pubes.
“Does that feel good?” he whispered, as his large middle finger eased my love lips apart, and poked inside my hole. I gasped, and nodded. Quickly he inserted a second finger, and pressed his palm against my clit. Just using his wrist, he built up a rhythm, fingering me and rubbing my clit. It felt so good I had to push my face into his shoulder, to stop myself screaming, when an orgasm tore through me. 


Ken gently kissed me, when I opened my eyes. “Let’s go in the steam room,” he said, as he guided me up the steps. My legs were still shaking as we entered. Marcus whispered something to the young assistant, who grinned as he grabbed a couple of towels. “I’ve told him that I’ll give him ˆ50, not to disturb us.” The boy winked, as he opened the door.
Obviously, it was incredibly hot, but that wasn’t going to stop him. Once inside we began kissing, all tongues and passion. He unclipped my bra, and dropped it to the floor. His tongue and hands ran over my nipples, making me groan so much; he began suckling my little rosebuds. While he was doing this I was pulling his trunks over his hard-on, which was difficult, as it was so big. 

We were now sweating heavily, which made the scene even sexier.
"Suck me!” He whispered into my ear. He made himself comfortable on the bench, as I knelt in front of him. His cock was magnificent: much longer and thicker than my husbands, with a huge pair of hairy balls hanging below. I pulled the foreskin back, and took the knob into my mouth and sucked and licked the tip; forcing my tongue into the tiny hole (I know that this drives men crazy), he was moaning and groaning as I gently twisted my hands around the shaft. I continued doing this for a couple of minutes, then stopped, and kissed the tip, “Let’s make love” he whispered, as he stroked hair. 

I slid my pants off, as I stood up. Revelling in my nakedness, I lay down on our towels and spread my legs for him. He knelt between them and ran his knob up and down my slit; “I don’t want to make love.” I purred, “I want you to fuck me! Fuck me! Put it in! Fuck me!” 

With one thrust, he slid inside. I gasped and groaned. His cock felt wonderful as it filled my fanny. Instinctively I lifted my legs and wrapped them around him. Undulating beneath him, I met each deep thrust, with an upward arch of my pelvis. Sweat was dripping from both of our bodies as he hammered away, fucking me like a wild animal. 

Easing himself back onto his knees, Marcus ordered me, “Bend over, get on your knees.” His cock came out very easily, as I was incredibly turned on and soaked in sweat. I took up the position that he wanted. My legs were now wide apart for his easy access. He ran his hands over my buttocks, and breasts, teasing my nipples. Sliding a finger over my bum hole, he made me moan. I heard him laugh out loud. “You like that, do you? Tell me what you want?” he asked.
“Fuck me! Fuck me!” I answered. 

Sam, my husband, had always wanted me to talk like this during sex, but I had never been comfortable; now it came very naturally. It was what I wanted: a good hard fucking.

Marcus ran the tip of his cock along my swollen slit, then pulled away, and nudged it against my bum hole. “No! Not there!” I pleaded, but because of the sweat and my state of arousal, his large cock edged in very easily. I let out a primeval grunt. I’d never felt anything like it; the pain wasn’t like I had imagined it would be, my hole was stinging like mad, and my cavity was being stretched beyond belief. After a few seconds, I was enjoying it. Marcus was, now, fucking my arse with ease, the sweat acting as a lubricant. I greeted every stroke, with the same sexy grunt. This was absolutely fabulous. 

“Do you like this?” he asked.
“Yes,” I whispered.
“I can’t hear you. What did you say?” he laughed.
“Yes! Yes! I like it!” I shouted.
“What do you like? Tell me again. What do you like!” he continued, his thrusts speeding up, his cock going into my arse deeper, and deeper with each thrust. 
“I love fucking!” I grunted, as I clung onto the wooden seat. “I like being fucked in the arse! I love being fucked in the arse!” I shocked myself, but it was true, I loved being fucked in my tight, virgin arse. With one last push, his body tensed and he emptied his spunk filled balls into my bottom. We remained joined for a few seconds, then he slowly pulled his cock out, making my arse-hole sting again. We both flopped onto the bench, clinging to each other. As we lay together I could feel his spunk running out of my stretched hole onto my thighs. 

Marcus kissed me, as we wrapped ourselves in the towels, and went for a shower. We didn’t speak a word.
In the shower my nipples were still rock hard as I soaped my breasts. With the pulsating water beating down onto my private parts, I couldn’t resist masturbating. My fanny was still wet and my clit sticking out like a button.

I rubbed it with my left hand, and slid my other hand, further between my legs, my arse was still stretched and extended, so for the first time in my life I put two fingers in, and finger-fucked my own arse hole while I rubbed my clit. The orgasm was awesome.

When I had dressed, I was surprised to see Marcus waiting for me in the bar. He was drinking a beer and had a glass of wine, for me.
Embarrassed at my behaviour with a relative stranger, who was also my boss; I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. I muttered, “I’m sorry, I’m so very sorry. That must never happen again. You mustn’t tell anyone what I did.” 
He took my hand, “As long as you agree to keep seeing me, no one will never find out. But….” he paused, “ If you don’t, who knows what I would do?” He was smiling, but his eyes told me that the threat was serious.

I hardly slept that night, thinking about Marcus. The sex had been better than anything I had ever experienced, during or before my marriage. I wanted more, but knew that I had to end it immediately, but what would happen if he told people? 
At about 3 o’clock, the following afternoon, the telephone rang; it was Marcus, “Just checking, to see how you are. Is everything okay?” he asked. “Yes, but I must see you, I need to see you.” I stammered, “Okay,” he replied, and the phone went dead.
A minute later there was a knock on the door. When I opened it, he was standing there, grinning sheepishly, “surprise!” then he kissed me firmly on the lips, holding my face in his hands. Kicking the door closed, he began unbuttoning my shirt, stroking my huge breasts, with his fingers, at the same time. As my shirt was being dropped to the floor, I pleaded, “No, no, we mustn’t, please, no!” My bra had now joined my shirt, and he was sucking my nipples. I was holding his head, pressing it into my breasts, “Stop! Stop! This is wrong!” I was now sighing as I spoke. My skirt was around my ankles, and his hands were squeezing my arse cheeks, and stroking my stocking clad legs.

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