Submitting to Her

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Submitting to Her Page 17

by Max Sebastian


  Zoey held up my cock, as though inviting the CEO to try it.

  And our CEO straddled my hips, her knees either side of my waist as she lowered her behind towards my lap, looking back to watch as Zoey now manhandled my erection, rubbing the tip over Ms Jenkinson's hot flesh.

  Was she really going to push my manhood inside another woman's pussy?

  "Mmm..." Ms Jenkinson purred for a few moments as Zoey caressed her boss's velvet buttocks and slippery pussy with my cock. Then she looked at her employee and said to her: "Top drawer, Zoey. There's a good girl."

  Zoey nodded, and hopped up to scamper over to the desk drawer to which Ms Jenkinson referred. While we waited, my blonde conqueror pressed her hot pussy down against my shaft, sitting on it, pressing it up against her pussy lips and mound.

  I saw Zoey return to us, but wasn't sure what she was doing until I felt Ms Jenkinson lift up from my hardness, and Zoey's hands pull it up towards her before enveloping me in her mouth.

  Oh, God, she was rolling a condom down my cock. Preparing me to be fucked by her boss.

  Ms Jenkinson gazed down at me with those big blue eyes, and I thought, are you really going to do this? Are you really going to order your devoted disciple to present her man's own cock for you to take inside you?

  Now I felt Zoey's fingers curling around the base of my cock, and she was pressing my sheathed tip up to Ms Jenkinson's smoldering pussy once again - but this time, she was stroking it around her boss's inner pussy lips, and then stuffing me inside her CEO's tight vagina to be engulfed by her intense heat.

  There was a twinkle in Ms Jenkinson's eye as she now sat back, feeling my hardness filling her up and stretching her flesh around me.

  "Oh, that's good," our leader cooed, rising up before once again impaling herself on my shaft.

  Zoey just watched, blank-faced, as her boss fucked me to within an inch of my life.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  "Are you okay? Zoey?"

  Afterwards, outside Ms Jenkinson's office, suitably dressed up again ready for the working day, I stopped my head of department, needing to know things were okay between us. I wanted to hug her, to kiss her, to make sure she was truly all right, not hiding things to maintain an outward appearance of leadership.

  But she smiled, warmly, seemingly genuinely happy.

  "Of course," she said. "Why wouldn't I be? You heard her - we're okay. In fact, we're better than okay. She likes you. She'll do wonders for our careers, you know."

  "I guess so."

  "And if we ever run into trouble, now I've got a prize asset to ensure we get her attention above any other department in the company."

  "You do?" I asked, my brow crinkling.

  "Yes - you, Jones."

  "Oh," I said. I hadn't been sure she was even comfortable with my being used by our CEO, and now I was apparently an asset in that particular area.

  "Back to work, Jones," Zoey said now, leading me back towards the elevators.

  *

  That evening, there was no waiting around after work. I received an email from Zoey at about half past four stating that I was to be by her car in the parking lot on the dot at 5pm, where I would wait for her.

  I felt a tingle ripple through my loins at the thought that she was desperate for sex.

  When the time came, my colleagues were so focused on making their own exits for the weekend that they didn't notice me slip out earlier than usual.

  I descended to the parking lot, nodded a quick goodbye to Brooks, who was leaving at the same time as me, and located Zoey's car. It was an unusually cold evening for so late in spring, but somehow the thought of what she wanted to do that evening kept me warm enough as I passed the time waiting for my enchantress.

  She didn't keep me waiting very long at all.

  "Let's go," she said after unlocking the vehicle from 20 yards away.

  "You are keen," I said, as we hopped in and quickly fastened our safety belts.

  She gave me a glare.

  "I haven't said you could speak, Jones, have I?" she said sternly, though her look was slightly undermined by poorly concealed mirth.

  "No, Ma'am."

  "If you're not careful, I'll have to punish you when we get back to your place."

  "My place, Ma'am?"

  "And there you go again! Questioning my orders, Jones?" she tutted. "No. You've never taken me to your place - so it's about time you did."

  "Yes Ma'am."

  She didn't order me to duck down or anything as we pulled out of the parking lot, and I felt strangely elated that she didn't, that she didn't care if others saw us together. Somehow, it reinforced my status with her. Could we be becoming a permanent couple? Dating co-workers wasn't entirely against the corporate rules, after all - just any kind of sexual or even romantic activity at work.

  As we joined a flow of traffic heading north towards my apartment, Zoey said: "Did you enjoy being with her this morning?"

  I glanced over at her. She had one hand tucked between her slender thighs, openly grazing it against the front panel of her little black panties.

  "I... I think so, Ma'am," I said, trying to work out whether she was setting a trap for me, whether I was supposed to have enjoyed being with Ms Jenkinson or not.

  "You think so?"

  "I enjoyed it physically," I said.

  She looked at me. "You're worried that I don't approve," she said. "I guess you're just trying to be a good boy, Jones. But you have to know that if I tell you to be with someone else, that's what you do."

  "Yes, Ma'am."

  Zoey leaned over, and as I tried to keep my eyes planted firmly on the road in front of us, I felt her fingers in my lap, stroking my hardness through the fabric of my pants.

  "Don't try to hide it, Jones. You are a dirty boy."

  *

  It was some way north on I-83 to the suburban housing complex in Lutherville in which I shared an apartment with a guy I'd known since college, who I dearly hoped would not be around on this particular evening. I wanted Zoey to myself - with no distractions.

  As we pulled up in the parking lot outside the entrance of the sandy-brick building in which my little hovel was located, I groaned to see none other than Robin himself out there, on his way back from emptying the trash.

  Robin's job as an elementary school teacher meant he was always home early. I'd been a fool to think I'd get away with sneaking Zoey back to our apartment without running into him. He was quite surprised to see me - jumping a little as he recognized my ugly mug, and then doubly confused to see that I was accompanied by someone female.

  "Dude - you coming out tonight?" he asked, looking and sounding as though his mouth was talking without his brain being involved.

  I felt stupid for a moment or two, and then it hit me - it was Friday night. I felt such guilt that I hadn't been out with the usual crowd for so very long while I'd been enthralled by one Zoey Schoenberg. Robin must have felt I'd become worse than the married ones among us - at least Marty and Vic were usually able to spend a few hours out after work on Fridays, before going home to do their duties. But right now, I so wanted to just get inside with Zoey since we'd both been so horny all day.

  I said: "Well, I don't know - "

  Robin did a poor job hiding his disappointment, though he did try. He said: "It's been so long, dude. I mean I know you met someone really special, but - "

  I saw him look up, catch his breath. Zoey had walked around from the driver's side, and now stepped onto the sidewalk behind me.

  "Uh…" I said. "Robin, this is Zoey. Zoey, this is Robin - I share an apartment with him."

  "Hi," Zoey gave him a broad grin, holding out a hand for him to shake.

  I suddenly felt scared she'd think I was afraid to introduce her to my friends and family - I just hadn't gotten around to it until now. There hadn't been an opportunity, and I'd never been in a position to make such a suggestion with Zoey in charge.

  "Oh, hello," Robin beamed in return, subtly looking
her up and down, his face all lit up as he reached out to grasp her offered hand. He was clearly impressed. "Lovely to meet you, Zoey. I was… uh… just headed out, actually. You know, the regular Friday night."

  Robin was now clearly implying that we didn't have to worry about any intrusion, that we'd have the apartment to ourselves all evening. Suddenly, his attempts to persuade me to come out had been fully answered. Any man would be a fool to go out on the town if he had a woman like Zoey Schoenberg to see to at home.

  But Zoey said to Robin: "So I heard. Sounds like fun. You mind if we tag along?"

  A beat as the information sank in.

  She'd misconstrued his acceptance of my non-participation as an invitation for us all to go out. I suddenly felt very nervous, although there was definitely a part of me that really liked the idea of showing off Zoey to my friends, offering some kind of explanation as to why I hadn't shown for so long.

  "You know, I couldn't think of anything better," Robin said, and Zoey glanced at me with one eyebrow raised, amused at the sudden change to our evening's plans.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  I'm not sure if I was more nervous of my friends meeting my girlfriend, or my girlfriend meeting my friends. I guess mostly, I was worried about how Zoey would treat me in front of the others - having sat with them giggling at Benny's adventures with his kinky fiancée, I could only imagine what they'd all say as Zoey started ordering me around in front of them, perhaps getting drunk and letting on about how she had me under her thumb.

  But, as it turned out, everyone was civil, polite, even mildly impressed - on one side that I'd fallen for such a bright, independent female, and on the other side that my friends were actually a nice bunch, and not the kind of chauvinistic gaggle of which my sales team comprised.

  "So you're the hot babe who's taken Aide from us?"

  "You're so... brunette."

  "Thank you. Yes, I'm sorry I've been monopolizing his evenings recently."

  "Well, I mean, since he was with you, I guess we can forgive him. If he buys the next round."

  Sure, she made me go get the drinks whenever we ran dry, but I managed to infer that since I was on the end of the booth, and I was the designated driver and therefore unlikely to spill as much, I was really in the easiest position to go get the drinks. While I was away, I'd look nervously back and see the guys apparently grilling Zoey about me, and Zoey seeming to be extremely willing to open up. It could have just been me being paranoid, of course, but you know when people have been talking about you from those not-so-subtle glances you get when you return, not to mention the subtle way they change the subject.

  I was being a little paranoid. Much of the time when I returned with drinks, I'd find they were talking about Benny's fiancée or Marty's inability to engage his wife in anything other than a hug, or Vic's suspicion that Rona might have a touch of depression.

  "You should just let her do it to you, Ben," Zoey would be saying, or something similar. "Might find you actually like it. Might even transform your life."

  "Seriously? But what if it hurts?"

  "Then don't do it again - but at least you'll know you don't like it."

  Zoey seemed to take on this role as relationship guru, the guys flocking around her like moths to a flame, eager for her pearls of wisdom. She'd tamed the untamable, she'd locked down the Harry Houdini of commitment, she'd bewitched the king of one night stands - she was clearly one to be respected and consulted in the field of successful romance.

  A little alcohol to smooth things over, and Zoey was taking to her new role with aplomb, advising the married guys among us that they were actually already firmly inside their own female-led relationship, only without the benefits, and that by embracing their roles, and finding ways to better communicate with their partners, they could find more fulfillment.

  "Seriously - she spends all the time you're with her telling you what to do, and then as soon as you're in the bedroom, she waits for you to lead? So you're taking all the punishment, and getting none of the rewards."

  "The rewards?"

  "You do like having sex, right?"

  "Well, of course."

  "But she's not always interested?"

  "I guess not."

  "And you suspect she's not interested because when it does happen, it usually doesn't end up with her getting an orgasm?"

  "I… uh… well, so what if it was?"

  "If she leads in the bedroom as well, she shows you how she wants you to get her off, and it's satisfying for her every time. So now she looks forward to sex, so you have it much more frequently."

  "I never thought of it that way."

  "And you know how much happier a sexually satisfied woman is around the home?"

  "Okay, so how do I get her to lead in the bedroom?"

  It made me realize she must have already discussed our own female-led relationship - and yet somehow I wasn't being given grief, I wasn't being taunted under the table, and my friends appeared to be hanging on Zoey's every word. I was surprised - I have to admit - and I felt a little more impressed at my friends than I'd been before this evening.

  Of course, she didn't have the answer to everything, but like the snake oil salesman, she could offer my friends enough of a tantalizing glimpse of the possibilities to get them hooked on the idea of such an apparent easy change in their lives making such a difference.

  I found myself sitting back, letting my increasingly inebriated friends forget about sober old me on the sidelines, and crowd around Zoey, absorbing all the knowledge she cared to impart. They were like besotted fans around some glamorous celebrity - and she seemed to lap up the adulation.

  Later, the marrieds went home to try out a few tricks, and the rest of us shuffled off to a nightclub, where Zoey even offered my friends a dance or three, or four, or five. It was kind of hot watching her flirting with them, seeing how they found her so beguiling. It reinforced the feeling within me that I was a very, very lucky guy.

  Far from finding myself the butt of jokes, at the end of it all I found myself envied beyond measure by my friends.

  There in the nightclub, I found myself glancing at the kind of blonde airheads I used to take home from the dance floor before Zoey, and I felt such a strong sense of wasting all that time.

  Well, I had plenty of time to make up for it.

  *

  When we got home, eventually, I opened the car door for Zoey, and was a little surprised that when she stepped out of the vehicle, her skirt remained behind on her seat. I was thankful Robin had opted to stay out for longer, choosing not to come back with us.

  "Uh… I think you forgot something, Zoey," I said.

  She giggled, posed for me there by the car in the middle of the parking lot, wearing her suit jacket and shirt, but with her legs and little black panties exposed for all to see. Thank God the place was empty at that hour - but I was sure my neighbors would be peering out of their windows to check out my drunken girlfriend.

  "Better get me inside quick, Jones," she said, and now off came her suit jacket. She was giving me a count down in clothing removals.

  I fumbled with my keys and locked the car, before finding the right metal to open my apartment front door. Well, there was definitely something hot about a girl as attractive as Zoey stripping right there on the street, but there were public decency laws even in this crappy part of Baltimore, I was fairly certain.

  By the time we were in the building, down the stairs and at the front door of my apartment, her shoes and pantyhose were off as well, leaving her in a white blouse and panties, barefoot.

  "Come on," I said as I slotted the key into my apartment front door, a hint or two of urgency in my voice as she began slipping the buttons undone down her blouse.

  She pouted. "You know, a real man would probably enjoy seeing their hot girlfriend stripping off in public."

  I felt a strange warm feeling fill up my chest at her use of the word 'girlfriend'. I guess we'd not really properly described our
relationship with such formal terms before, but somehow it sparked a real bliss inside me right now.

  I smiled, "If I was a 'real' man, as you put it, you would have fired me long ago."

  She laughed, and consented to my silent but clearly signaled request for her to go inside.

  There was no time for a tour as I showed her into my apartment. As soon as we were inside the sanctity of my living room. Zoey jumped on me, flinging her legs around my waist, her arms around my shoulders before pulling me in for a kiss.

  "You like it when I'm a little tipsy?" she asked, smiling as we briefly broke our kiss so she could look at me.

  "Actually, I do," I said. "I like it a lot."

  She was a touch aggressive in kissing my mouth, but I didn't mind. Change it up, that was good. She tasted of the white wine she'd been drinking all night, and I found I appreciated the vintage more that it was in her mouth. She was so stunning, one leg wrapped around my thigh, her body so hot around me as she pressed herself against my already hard cock.

  I found a place where I could kneel, and she could perch on the edge of our couch, so I didn't exhaust myself in a matter of seconds.

  "So was it okay that I invited us along on the Friday night out?" she asked me, and now happily seated began to unfasten the buttons of my shirt.

  "Sure it was okay. I think my friends like you a lot."

  She laughed, "You have great friends, Jones."

  "They certainly enjoyed dancing with you," I chuckled.

  "You like watching me with other men?"

  "I don't know… I'm not sure when it's my friends."

  She put a hand down between my thighs, and I felt it feeling out my sizable erection. "I don't know if I entirely believe you," she teased, and now slipped my open shirt over my shoulders, before peeling it down my arms and off.

 

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