Once in my office, I immediately stepped around my desk to take my place in my comfort zone; my old leather chair. No sooner had I sat down, Mrs. Titus followed me around, looking over my old walnut desk, gliding a hand along the edge of it as she walked.
“So, this is the famous Justin Case Fucking Desk,” she said, catching me completely off-guard with her recognition of its double duty. “Oh, yes; Gayle told me all about that, too.”
“I guess that puts a bit of a black mark on my reputation?”
Mrs. Titus laughed.
“Hardly,” she said. She reached down and undid the top button of her form-fitting Capri pants. “The way I’d heard it, it’s more of a bright spot on your resume’.”
I watched as the woman undid the zipper and slid her pants down her tanned thighs, revealing lacy pink panties. Five seconds later, Mrs. Titus was sliding those down her legs and stepping out of them. She stood up, still dressed from the waist up, but proudly displaying a thick but neatly trimmed triangle of pubic hair peeking just under the hem of her blouse.
“I know that Gayle gave you a... ‘tip’ after all of your hard work,” she said. “Now, I was raised to believe that the word ‘tips’ was an acronym for ‘To Insure Prompt Service’, and that it was at one time customary to pay it in advance.”
With that, Mrs. Titus turned her back to me, revealing a full ass that, while not the most toned I’d ever witnessed, was still enough to make my mouth water. When she bent over and propped herself on her elbows on my desk while spreading her legs, the wet, pink gash that appeared within her thick bush was an unquestionable invitation to a doggie-style ride.
I stood up from my chair, sending it rolling backwards and undoing my jeans as I rose. The view of my potential employer’s generous offering had my hormones quickly stirred up, and my engorged dick lurched out of my underwear as I pushed them down, the head of my erection slapping into the hairy nest waiting for me.
“I see you’re quick on the draw, Mr. Case. Now, how good is your aim?”
I barely shifted the direction of my dick with my hand and my meat damn near fell into the woman’s wet and waiting snatch. I pressed forward and slid all the way to the hilt in her in a single stroke.
“Ooh, yes,” purred Mrs. Titus. “That may not be the tightest cunt you’ll ever feel, Mr. Case, but you’re filling it better than anyone else has in a very, very long time.”
Mrs. Titus wasn’t tight like Gayle Davies had been, but she wasn’t like swinging a baseball bat in a hallway, either. No, her pussy was sopping wet, satin smooth inside, and hot as hell. While Mrs. Davies’ love tunnel clung to my thrusting dick like a virgin’s, Mrs. Titus’ fuck nest held just enough friction to tease and tantalize my cock as I took full advantage of my sudden good fortune and rapidly drove it in and out of her, slamming hard against her and sending ripples through her butt flesh with each impact of my pelvis to hers.
“Mmm... Gayle said you were hung and knew how to use it,” cooed Mrs. Titus. “She was right on both counts.”
“Remind me to give her a referral bonus,” I replied as I gripped the woman’s hips as firmly as I dare, pulling her backwards to meet my body with each thrust of my dick. I was pounding her pussy with an impact that might have been painful to a less flexible woman – far less forceful than I had fucked her good friend – but Mrs. Titus could handle all I could muster, and more.
My balls were swaying with my thrusts, smacking into Mrs. Titus’ wet nest of pubic hair enough to be audible, and apparently with enough force to progressively bring the woman closer and closer to climax.
“Oh, yes... don’t stop...” she sighed as she lowered her face to her supporting arms. Her pants of pleasure echoed off of the wooden desk surface in a steady cadence. “Ohh... ohh... ohh... OOOHHH!”
Even with my pounding, I could feel Mrs. Titus tremble from her climax. As her legs began to give out, I held on both for her support and my own pleasure, driving my manhood into her with a force that would have left dents in the bumper of a Mack truck.
“Jesus, you’re long,” she said with a hoarse, satisfied chuckle. “I swear you’re pounding at the back of my throat with that monster!”
“I’m just about there, myself...” I replied in heavy pants of my own.
Mrs. Titus suddenly pushed back against me so hard that she forced my prick from her snatch and I fell into my chair. She instantaneously spun around and dropped to her knees between my legs and grabbed my slick dick at the base, directing it to her mouth.
If I had thought the woman’s love tunnel had been hot, it had nothing on the furnace that was her throat. Mrs. Titus bobbed her head greedily on my staff, easily getting at least half of my length into her mouth with each stroke without choking. She apparently wanted to make up for any self-perceived looseness of her snatch because she was sucking my cock like a vacuum cleaner.
“Oh, God...” I moaned. “Oh, shit!”
My whole body shook as I if was in seizure as the intensity of Mrs. Titus’ expert blow job quickly – too quickly – had me cumming.
“Fuck! Here it comes!”
My warning was likely unnecessary as Mrs. Titus easily handled the first massive blast of my sperm into her mouth, the next huge squirt that followed, and the ones after that until I was spent and my cock began to shrink back after the gut-wrenching draining of my balls. Mrs. Titus had swallowed my whole load without missing a single drop.
“My God,” I croaked out. “That was intense. That was... amazing.”
“It was only fair,” she replied in a matter-of-fact manner, as if she had simply just tied my shoe. “I was only half kidding when I said you were hitting my throat from the inside. I thought it better that you should properly poke your monster cock into my throat as it was designed.”
“There is much to be said for experience, Mrs. Titus.”
“How do you think I keep my husband under my spell, so to speak?” she said with a sly smile. “Now, how about we talk business, Mr. Case?”