His voice, dangerous and low, asked, “Anything wrong, Ms. Bowen?”
He’d already seen them, and he wanted to share his discovery with me. I could leave right now, spare myself the embarrassment. But, the test shots came out so well. I was so fucking close to getting this job. Maybe he was just a fan of nude portraiture. Fuck, I knew that wasn’t it. This could be the hail mary of job interview moments though.
Screw it, I’d play his game. I clicked.
Immediately, the screen filled with nude black and white photos of myself in various compromising positions. My breasts covered the screen from one corner to the other. I couldn’t believe I was staring at myself naked with Mr. Archer ogling these photos over my shoulder. He had seen them already, and that was mortifying enough, but looking at them together was something else.
I wanted to explain to him that this series had won one a class award, so I included it on my site. But I never expected to be looking for corporate work, and I didn’t think to take them down. I had made my site over a year ago, and had forgotten these photos even existed.
But they did exist, and suddenly I could hear Mr. Archer’s even, loud breathing from behind me. His fingers tightened against the leather chair.
“Scroll,” he commanded.
I had no other option, couldn’t think of anything else to do or say but to follow what he said. Photo after photo eased over the page, my nipples, my dark slit, all on display for us to see. He spoke, his voice a near whisper, “That one’s my favorite.”
It was a close-up, with my legs spread wide apart, and my hand clasping a rose over my slit, preventing it from being exposed completely. I writhed in my seat, serving only to spread my wetness.
He practically purred, “I like props.”
My breath caught. I couldn’t believe he was admitting this to me.
As smooth as ever, he explained. “It was on a whim I even came across your application. Something compelled me to click, and as soon as I saw your photo on your homepage, I knew I needed more. And then, my exploration was rewarded with this treasure trove we’re looking at now. I needed to meet you.”
This was too much, I didn’t know what to think. The hot as hell CEO of this huge company had seen all my naked photos and lured me to his office? Yes, I wanted him to fuck me, now, hard, but this was too crazy. Was I still making this up? David was the last guy I had sex with and he was just a furniture mover. Most guys I had ever been with were of that caliber. Not an all powerful CEO who commanded billions and could make women appear at his office at the snap of his fingers. What was I thinking? I bolted out of the chair, toward tripod.
I began unscrewing the camera, my hands shaking. “Mr. Archer, I’m sorry you had to see those. I shouldn’t have troubled you by coming here.”
I was halfway through putting my camera away when I heard him sauntering behind me. I could smell him again, his fresh aftershave filling my nostrils. God, I wanted him. I didn’t want to leave. I wanted him to make me stay.
In mock surprise, he asked, “What’s this dark patch on the back of your skirt? Oh, no.”
Shit, I must have had soaked through my panties like I thought. I inwardly groaned with embarrassment. But before I knew it, he was behind me, and then his fingers stroked the wet spot on my skirt, just under my butt, pushing it in a little to touch me. He rubbed it up and down, not once, but twice.
I gasped. I couldn’t believe he did it, actually touched my ass like that. I should have protested. Yelled at him for touching me. But my nipples had hardened. It wasn’t even that I didn’t mind. I wanted him. I wanted more. As if reading my mind, he wrapped me in his arms from behind, his body pressing against me. Oh shit, this was real. I wasn’t imagining it. The smell of his fresh aftershave was so strong now. And, for the first time, I could feel his rock hard erection against the top of my ass. Holy shit, if this pressure was any indication, it was big.
Before I could do anything, he brought two fingers up to my nose, and questioned, “Now what does that smell like?”
The fingers he had rubbed against my wet spot. This was the hottest thing that had ever happened in my life. My words failed me, I was so overwhelmed. Instead, I let out a moan, and shifted against his dick, rubbing it with my ass. Goddamn it felt good against me.
His breath was hot against my ear. “That’s not an answer. Need a closer inspection?”
With that, he forced the two thick fingers into my mouth, plunging into my wet cavern. My tongue licked at them, tasting my lust for him in sticky fluid form. His thick fingers in my mouth made me want to take his cock next.
His voice as calm as if we were discussing business transactions, he offered, “Since your mouth is occupied. I’ll tell you what it is. Desire. That smells and tastes like desire, don’t you agree, Ms. Bowen?”
My panties were soaking wet. I moaned in the affirmative, and he released his fingers from my mouth and pulled away completely.
Without ceremony, he left me standing there and marched away toward the door. What was he doing? Was he going to show me the way out after all that? No! I didn’t want to leave now. How could I, after feeling his cock against me? His fingers in my mouth. I needed more, and I thought he had wanted me too.
He reached the door and turned toward me, excruciatingly slowly. “Precautions.”
A second later, I heard a loud metal click: he had locked the door. This was it. A locked door meant anything could happen now. All towering six foot plus of him in his sexy navy suit was ready to devour me. And that cock. I could see its outline in his pants.
He strode toward me. “Now let me check what your desire tastes like,” he said.
He put his hand under my chin and tilted it up to kiss him. He tasted delicious, like mountain rain. We held each other tighter, my arms wrapped around his smooth cashmere suit jacket, feeling his hulking muscled body. He began running his hand through my hair. He tangled my tresses and pulled, just the right amount of pain. I moaned in his mouth while our tongues caressed each other.
He released my mouth, and whispered into me, his breath tickling the inside of my ear so that my body shivered. “It’s important that you show me the live version of your photos, Lela. I need to judge the real thing.”
And even as he spoke, his deft fingers had already begun to unbutton my top. He didn’t even ask for my permission, and I fucking loved it. “Yes, Mr. Archer,” I replied, closing my eyes as I felt his fingertips dance around my skin, pulling off my shirt.
He slipped my shirt all the way off, and his eager eyes stared at my chest, pushed up in my black bra.
“Let’s take this off too, shall we? We want to be true to the art.”
His devious smile appeared again, and he stroked the sides of my bra. I took the initiative and unhooked my bra, but didn’t slide it off yet. I wanted to tease him. See how badly he wanted me.
“You want to see these?”
He pulled at one of my straps, trying to grab it from me, but my grip stayed strong. He pleaded, “Come on baby, show me those gorgeous assets of yours.”
I stepped back an inch, and replied, “But you’ve already seen the photos. What else could there possibly be to see?”
He grabbed my arm, and pulled me close, whispering into my hair, “I’m going to die right here if I don’t get a taste. You’re going to let me have one.”
Suddenly, his tongue was circling around my ear. This spot was my downfall. I would be powerless if he actually stuck his tongue in my ear, but he didn’t know that. I whimpered, and breathlessly replied, “I might be open to that, but I’m just not sure.”
Sensing my increasing pliability, his wet tongue now twisted around the inner curves of my ear, getting closer and closer to the spot. I could feel my grip loosening on my bra, and he seemed to be picking up on my weakening defenses.
He whispered, breath in my ears, revved up as if sensing his victory. “You would like that, wouldn’t you? This tongue tracing all over your gigantic tits, flicking your sen
sitive, pert nipples? Yeah, you’d love it, I can feel it. You want to strip down naked and let me do whatever the fuck I want with you, isn’t that right?”
“I—”
But I couldn’t continue, as his tongue picked up its fondling of my inner ear, and a second later, he plunged the tip all the way into my ear’s hole, making me cry out in ecstasy.
“Oh God, yes, I want it. Please.”
I hadn’t even noticed that I dropped my bra until I felt his greedy hands exploring my breasts, fondling and groping. I was still moaning, feeling the residue waves from where his tongue had been in my ear.
“That’s right. I saw you parting your legs for me, showing off your wet panties so I could see them. Tell me I’m wrong and I’ll let you go right now. Did you do that for me? Were you trying to get me horny?”
He did see me do that, oh my God. His fingers had found my nipples, and he was caressing them, then lightly pinching and rolling them. Pleasure shot through my body at his touch. I confessed, panting. “Yes. You were looking at me so I wanted to give you a show. I wanted you to get horny for me.”
“And what did you want me to do once I got rock hard?”
He pinched my nipples, hard. I cried out. “I want you to fuck me.”
His touch turned gentle again, sweet. “Good girl. And you’ll get it, but you’re going to have to work for it first. Especially after this little display, keeping your perfect tits from me.”
I pleaded, “Anything, yes. Whatever you want. I’m yours.”
“Come here,” he ordered, and had already wrapped his hand around my forearm, pulling me toward his desk. He shoved a stack of folders and a couple of awards off to the side and pushed me down on the desk so that I was still facing him. He climbed on top of me, and his hungry mouth explored my breasts like he promised.
He sucked and nibbled at them, while his wandering hand probed my thighs, sliding a finger along them oh so gently. He worked his way up to my panty line, my white lace panties, and he began to rub my clit with his thumb. I groaned even louder. His index finger hooked under the gusset of my panties, finally touching my wetness and soft folds of skin. He massaged this thumb around, dousing his hand in my sticky sex juice. If he kept up that rubbing much longer I would cum right here on his desk.
“You dirty girl. You’re so wet I could slip a freight train in here. And moments ago you were trying to keep me from having you? No. No one does that to me. I think you need to be punished.”
My body shivered all over at his words. I was at the point where I would do whatever he wanted. Even punishment, coming from his mouth, sounded fucking hot right now. He pushed away, grabbed me off his desk, and then he sat on it himself. I stood there, topless, waiting for his instructions.
His gorgeous green eyes bored into mine. “You need a spanking. Get in position.”
I hadn’t been spanked since I was a little girl, but I knew what to do. If William Archer wanted to spank me he sure as hell could. I climbed on top of him, and he made noises of approval. My tits were hanging off the edge of his legs, my butt wide open in the air. I was weirdly so turned on by this vulnerability. He could do whatever he wanted to me now.
He yanked up my skirt, my ass in my white lace thong now totally exposed. I inhaled sharply.
His voice reprimanded, “You waltz into a meeting with the CEO with wet panties and a stained skirt? You should be ashamed of yourself.”
Suddenly his hands were around my panties, and he tugged them off, all the way down to my ankles. I could feel the cool air against my glistening lips.
Without warning, a loud “thwack” sounded, and my left cheek burned. I howled, but it felt so good. The pain was taking my horniness to a new level. I wanted more.
“What do you have to say to that, Lela?”
I yelped. “I’m sorry!”
He smacked my ass again. “I’m sorry what?”
“I’m sorry, sir.”
I had never been this turned on in my life. Never had I imagined being commanded to call an older man sir would make me so fucking hot.
He caressed my burning ass cheek. “That’s right. Respect your elders, little girl.”
I almost came on the spot with him talking to me like that. He spanked me three more times, and I whimpered, the pain mingling with pleasure. I was getting wetter than ever, and I could feel it dribbling against my thigh.
Mr. Archer must have noticed, because his finger scooped up a sample of it right from inside my slit, and he demanded, “Who is this for?”
I gasped, reeling from the sensation of his fingers against my sweet spot. “It’s for you, Mr. Archer. You own every drop of that.”
He chuckled, low and devilish. “Good answer Lela. You get a reward. Don’t move.”
“Yes sir,” I said.
Who the fuck was I, calling this guy sir and wanting to be his good little girl? I didn’t know except that I loved every second of it. My heart was beating fast now. If the punishment felt this good, what was the reward going to feel like? He leaned over and I heard some objects clinking around on his desk.
“Spread these legs for me, baby girl.”
Even as he asked, he was pulling them apart for me. Suddenly, a cold, smooth, metallic object was at the gates of my lips, and he was massaging it against me, not pushing it in yet, just getting the tip of the object covered in my juices. I moaned with anticipation. I didn’t know what it was but I wanted him to plunge it into me.
“This is my favorite award. Man of the year. I want you to get to know him.”
All at once, he shoved it in me, the cold, thick statue filling up my pussy. I yelped, surprise and pleasure together. Fuck, I needed this, to get stuffed by something, even if it wasn’t his cock. He pulled it out, slowly, as if he was admiring it from above, then deliberately pushed it back in, twisting it around deeper and deeper. He kept up this slow torture. In, out. My wet pussy making squelching sucking noises with his slow movements. I needed to orgasm, now. I started rubbing my clit against his leg. Mmm, that felt good, and I moaned at the sensation.
“Stop it,” he commanded. “No pleasuring yourself. You can do that when I tell you to do it.”
“Yes s—”
But before I could finish, he smacked my ass again, the pain from before smarting again.
Then, a second later, he grabbed the statue that was stashed in my pussy, pulled it out roughly, then rammed it into me, harder than ever.
“Ah! Mr. Archer! I’m so sorry.”
He pulled it out and teased the head of the statue against my wet, aching hole. “Are you now?”
“Yes, I promise, I didn’t mean to pleasure myself, sir.”
He thrust it back in, hard, then spanked me again. “I don’t believe you. I can feel you now, wanting to get yourself off. That’s not allowed.”
I squirmed on his lap. “Please Mr. Archer, sir, I’ll do anything to be in your good graces again. Whatever you want.”
He twisted the statue all the way around me, and I could feel the statue’s metallic shoulders sliding around my slick tunnel. I shivered. Being told not to get myself off while I was on the brink of cumming was driving me nuts. I meant every word of it, I would do anything he wanted.
He ordered, “Get on the floor.”
Just as I began to shift, he added, “And keep that statue inside you.”
I shuffled off him and got down on my knees, holding the award inside me. Down from the floor, I looked up at him, awaiting instructions. He loomed over me. I watched him unbuckle his belt, the clink of the metal sending a wave of excitement over me, as I anticipated seeing his meaty flesh.
He unzipped his pants, then pulled out an enormous, rock-hard, throbbing cock.
I whispered, “Oh my God.”
Holding his monster cock in his hand, he growled, “It’s not here for you to stare at it.”
“Yes sir,” I said, then leaned forward, mouth parted. I held the statue in place in my soaking wet pussy with one hand, the other
free to play with him.
In one motion, I grabbed him and pulled him into my mouth, stretching it wide to accommodate his girth. I started slow, trying to fit all of him in, pushing his head to the back of my throat. He moaned, and stroked his hand through my hair.
“That’s nice baby. Very good.”
After a couple long, wet strokes I started pushing him in faster. Mr. Archer’s moans grew louder, and his gentle stroking of my hair turning to pulling my hair. Suddenly, he was plowing my head back and forth, his dick hitting the back of my throat. My mouth watered and saliva spilled down my mouth while he forced me to deep throat him. He kept up a steady rhythm, fucking my mouth. The statue was getting close to slipping out, my body being shoved back and forth so hard by him.
Then all at once, he pushed away from me, and stared at me like a madman, ready to do anything. He pressed me backward onto the floor and kneeled down in front of me.
“You’ve earned this fucking Lela.”
My pussy was aching just waiting for him to enter me. He pulled out the man of the year award, glistening in all my juices. With an evil little smile, he wiped it against my breasts then let it clatter to the floor.
He pulled apart my legs as wide as they would go and surveyed my pussy. He jammed two fingers in me and finger fucked me, hard. He was going to make me beg for it.
“Fuck me, please. Please. I need to feel your cock inside me.”
He released his fingers and I watched his tongue slather all over them, getting me even hotter than I thought possible.
Suddenly his throbbing member pushed at my sopping wet opening, lubricating his tip in my juices. Please just shove it in already. He leaned into my face. “Delicious girl. You want this cock huh?”
His tip pushed in the tiniest millimeter, then back out, caressing my spot almost sweetly. This tease was killing me. I nodded vigorously. “Yes sir.”
“Such good manners on you.”
And with that, he rammed the full force of his cock into my swollen abyss. His entire thick eight inches filled me up in a fucking incredible sensation. He pulled himself all the way out and stuffed it back in all at once. I cried out, and he smiled at my pain, then bent over to caress my cheek.
Seized by the CEO: A sexy, submissive interview story (Interviewed by the CEO Book 1) Page 2