Chapter 7

Judy was fiddling aimlessly with leftover paperwork. The first thing she had done when she had gotten to the office was check for the listing agreement. Her knees had begun shaking when she discovered that she had not locked her desk after all. But the Shein listing agreement was still safely hidden where she had left it.

Now she could only wait. She used the time to get caught up on her paperwork. Because interest rates were sky high, the real estate business was in a slump. Most people who wanted to buy couldn’t get the loans they needed. And very few people wanted to sell. Anyone who could was grimly hanging on to what he had.

Which was what had driven Judy to take the desperate steps she had with Steven Shein. Now the die was cast. All she could do was wait. Mark’s time on the kidney machine was drawing closer and closer to an end, making the waiting all the more difficult.

Judy jumped when the telephone rang, then grabbed it before the one other agent that was in could answer it.

“Mrs. Penncroft, this is Andrew McCarter,” the voice on the other end said.

“Yes, sir,” Judy responded, acutely conscious that the other salesman was listening to everything she said. “How are you today?”

“Fine, thanks.”

“What can I do for you?” Judy asked, trying to make it sound like an ordinary inquiry.

“Mrs. Penneroft, we seem to have a problem” Mr. McCarter answered.

Judy’s heart sank. “Oh?” she asked, trying to keep her fear from showing on either her face or in her voice.

“I’ve had a bit of a problem with the bank,” McCarter continued. “They don’t want to give me a mortgage.”

“Why not?” Judy asked. She saw the other salesman eyeing her curiously, which made her even more cautious. She was searching for phrases and sentences that would give nothing away about the sale.

“They won’t say, exactly.”

“It’s not you, is it?” Judy asked fearfully.

“No, definitely not,” McCarter assured her “My credit is A-one. No, that’s not the problem.”

“Too expensive?” Judy pried.

“No. If they’d give me the mortgage they’d only want eight per cent.

That’s a bargain these days.”

“Then I don’t understand.”

“They just don’t seem to want to release the money,” McCarter continued.

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“I told them that. How can they make money if they don’t loan out money is my philosophy. They gave me a runaround about not wanting to put that much money into one project. They also made some comment about being able to get a better return on short-term paper, rather than a thirty-year mortgage. I think they are trying to pull a stall, on the theory that the ceiling on interest rates is going to be raised again.”

“That makes sense,” Judy agreed.

“The man who is the problem is Milton Caldwell,” McCarter went on.

“Why tell me?” Judy asked. She was relieved to note that her colleague in the office had gone back to his paperwork, but knew he still might be listening.

“I think there is a solution to the log-jam,” McCarter explained. “I think that if you were to go and see Mr. Caldwell, you could change his mind.”

“Huh?” Judy asked suspiciously.

“I think that this is a situation where your – ah – unique sales approach could tip the balance in our favor.”


“Mrs. Penncroft, if I don’t get the mortgage, the entire deal is off,”

McCarter pointed out coolly. “If that should happen, where would that leave you – and your husband?”

Judy felt sick. She didn’t want to do this – she didn’t!

“Now, I really want to buy that house. And Shein definitely wants to sell. But there is nothing I can do to get that mortgage, and there is a great deal you can do.”

“Yes,” Judy agreed softly, reluctantly, a sour knot forming in her stomach. Tangled in with that knot of dismay were tight, gleaming threads of excitement.

“Caldwell is the man’s name – Milton Caldwell. He’s vice president in charge of something – notes I think it is.”

“I know him a bit,” Judy admitted. She had spoken with him on the telephone a couple of times and remembered his thin voice and precise phrasing.

“If anyone can change his mind, you can, Mrs. Penncroft,” McCarter told her.

“Thank you,” Judy replied, squeezing the words out of her constricted throat.

“I’ll be looking forward to a call from Mr. Caldwell. Good-bye, Mrs.


“Good-bye,” Judy said softly, then hung up.

“What was that all about?” the other agent asked. “Trouble?”

Judy tried to hide her shaking by shuffling papers. She didn’t trust her voice, and said nothing.

“Something to do with Mark?” the man pried.

Judy clutched at that innocent explanation. “Yes, something to do with Mark,” she answered. It wasn’t really a lie, was it?

She knew what she had to do. She felt horror clutch at her as she contemplated the situation. The real horror was not that she was faced with whoring again. The true horror was the sick, vile, disgusting, perverted excitement she felt at the prospect. What was she becoming?

Dear God, what kind of an animal was she becoming that she had the feeling that her prayers had been answered?

She checked her watch. Lunch time. “Are you going to be here this afternoon?” she asked.

The man nodded. “Damned if I know why, with business the way it is.

But, I might as well sit here as sit at home. Maybe something will happen to break the monotony. You going out?”

Judy nodded. “I have to see Mark’s specialist, after lunch,” she lied, thinking quickly.

“Might as well take the whole afternoon, if you want it,” the man told her. “I’ll cover the phones.”

“I’m not expecting any calls.”

“See you tomorrow.”

Judy hid her eyes behind her dark glasses once she was out on the sidewalk. Her heart was pounding hard as she turned toward the bank.

She had no appetite for lunch at this point.

In the cool interior of the bank, Judy walked over to the low railing that set the offices apart. She had the hideous feeling that everyone knew what she was up to.

“I’d like to see Mr. Caldwall, please,” she said softly.

“Certainly,” the cool blonde receptionist replied. “Who shall I say is calling?”

“Penncroft, Mrs. Judy Penncroft.” While the girl was on the phone, Judy watched the customers crossing the polished floor. She had the feeling they were all watching her.

“Mr. Caldwell will see you,” the receptionist reported. “The third office from the end.”

“Thank you.” Passing through the gap in the railing, Judy made her way across the conservative gray carpeting to the indicated doorway. She had been relieved to find that Caldwell had an office. When she saw the solid, sturdy, opaque wooden door, she felt almost relaxed.

“Mr. Caldwell?” she asked from the doorway,

“Mrs. Penncroft.” The man pushed his swivel chair back and stood up.

“Won’t you please come in? It is indeed a pleasure to meet you in person.”

Judy kept her face expressionless as she studied the banker and shook his hand. The man’s grip was so feeble she felt as if she had been handed a limp sack of soft gelatin. The rest of him matched his handshake. He was about as tall as Steven Shein, but where Shein was hard, Milton Caldwell was soft. Shein was broad across the shoulders, narrow across the waist. The bank vice president reversed it, and had the contours of a pear.

He was a study in pink and gray – gray hair, pink, round face, gray suit and vest. His tie and his hair seemed to have been color coordinated, gray with a thin pink stripe. His hair was combed across his pink bald spot in a series of gray slats. Even his eyes were gray, while the whites were bloodshot. His silver framed glasses perched on his round pink nose.

Judy’s feeling of eager anticipation was fading rapidly.

“Please, have a seat, Mrs. Penneroft,” Caldwell urged politely in his reedy voice. He closed the door behind her, then held the chair beside his desk for her to sit down in.

Judy was sure he was sneaking a careful look down her neckline. She carefully crossed her legs, so her skirt would ride up her thigh.

“Now, just what can I do for you?” the pink and gray man asked as he lowered himself into his chair.

Judy noticed he pushed back so the desk didn’t cut off his view of her trim legs. She fiddled with the top button of her blouse. “I wanted to discuss the Andrew McCarter situation with you.”

“McCarter – McCarter,” Caldwell mused. “Ah, yes, of course, Andrew McCarter. Well now, it is a bit unusual to discuss confidential matters with an outsider.”

“I’m here at Mr. McCarter’s request,” Judy explained. “Why, exactly, are you refusing to grant Mr. McCarter a mortgage?”

The bluntness of the question seemed to astonish the banker. He rocked back in his chair, and the springs protested with a thin squeak. When he rebounded forward again, he sought refuge in the papers on his desk, flipping through stack after stack.

It reminded Judy of a small gray mouse building a nest.

“Aaahhh, yes, here we are,” Caldwell chirped, extracting a long form from the heap. “McCarter, Andrew A. Uhm hmm. Hmmmmm.” He unfolded the application and looked it over carefully. “Yes, this all seems to be in order.” He looked at Judy again.

Judy’s exasperation was increasing. She was beginning to think nothing was going to get through to this creature. She casually let the top button of her blouse slip through the hole.

“Why won’t you give him the mortgage?” she asked again. “He has an excellent credit rating, there is no disagreement over the interest rate, and you have an appraisal of over one and a half million on the house in question.”

Caldwell’s necktie bobbed peculiarly as he swallowed hard. His eyes kept straying from Judy’s face down to the vee of her unbuttoned shirt.

“Ahem, well, yes, indeed,” he agreed. “But, you must admit we are discussing a very large sum of money.”

Judy was toying with the second button now. “Certainly. But I was under the impression that the business of banks was to loan large sums of money. An eight percent return on your investment, especially an investment of this size, is hardly trivial.” She could see a film of sweat forming on the man’s pink forehead.

“Ahum, well, that is true,” he wheezed. “However, with interest rates as high as they are, the return on eight percent is really minimal.”

Judy decided to play dumb. “I don’t understand. Perhaps if you worked it out for me on paper?”

“Well, um, it’s really very simple,” Caldwell explained, pulling a yellow pad over in front of him. “For the sake of simplicity, we’ll take one million dollars. Now, we can either loan it out in one large lump, at eight percent,” he explained, scribbling on the pad.

Judy wasn’t listening. She got gracefully up from her chair and went around behind it. As she passed the door, she casually reached out and locked it. Then she went and stood behind Milton Caldwell. She unbuttoned the second button on her blouse.

“I see what you are driving at,” she murmured softly, carefully pressing the soft warmth of one of her breasts against the man’s head as she leaned over him. He turned his head, and for a moment Judy had the insane feeling he was searching for her tit to suckle on just the way a hungry baby does.

“Now,” Caldwell squeaked, “if we break that million into smaller amounts, of, say, ten loans of one hundred thousand each, the picture changes radically.”

Judy eased around beside him and leaned over, her hands on the desk.

Her breasts swayed enticingly inside her open blouse. “What are the exact figures on that?” she asked, one eye on the electronic calculator near her left hand.

“Well, now the problem gets more complex,” Caldwell pointed out. He reached for the calculator.

Judy intercepted him, putting her hand on top of his and pinning it to the desk. She turned and looked him full in the face, noting how his color was shifting from pink to red, and washing out the stripe in his tie. “Why, I’m surprised that a man of your intellect can’t do that in his head,” she flattered him. His eyes were watering as his gaze bounced desperately from her face to her breasts. His flabby lips were shining.

“Well, yes, of course,” he admitted. “I used to do it that way before I got the calculator.”

“You know, Mr. Caldwell, you are a very interesting man,” Judy informed him in a soft, sexy voice. She was still holding his hand.

“Oh, no,” he protested softly.

“Why, you are, too,” Judy insisted, letting his hand go and turning to sit on his desk. Crossing her legs, she kicked off her sandals. Then she folded her arms under her breasts and lifted and pressed them inward. “Why, I’m sure Mrs. Caldwell has a great deal of difficulty keeping her hands off you.”

“There is – cough – there is no Mrs. Caldwell,” the banker mumbled nervously. “Now, as I was saying, if we…”

“No Mrs. Caldwell!” Judy exclaimed. “Why, that’s unbelieveable! Oh, but wait, I understand. A man of your qualities and talents doesn’t want to be tied down to just one woman. Mr. Caldwell, you are a devil, aren’t you – the gay bachelor.”

Not really “gay” Judy prayed softly.

“Well, I, uhm, I – aaahhhh. Yes, I am a bachelor,” he admitted.

Judy had the feeling the banker was suddenly finding his pants a little too tight. She wondered if he still lived with his mother. She unbuttoned still another button.

“Now, I’ve got to keep my mind on business.” she insisted. “You were saying about the loan?” She twisted sideways and leaned forward, giving him a totally unobstructed view of her pale breasts and their pink tips.

Caldwell’s hand shook as he picked up a pencil. The numbers on the pad were a meaningless jumble. He kept seeing Mrs. Penncroft’s bare breasts inside her blouse. They were practically in front of his nose, tantalizing soft mounds with pink tips as delectable and exciting as anything he had ever seen in his life. There was a subtle pain in his chest from the sight of this small woman’s graceful, feminine torso within her blouse. And why were his pants suddenly so tight and uncomfortable?

Judy knew she almost had him. She let her arms slide the length of his desk, bulldozing a drift of papers along. The telephone toppled off the desk and bounced on the carpet with a soft ring.

“Yes, Mr. Caldwell,” the receptionist said tinnily from the receiver.

Caldwell scrabbled for the phone, picked it up and muttered something, then hung up.

Judy was lying on his desk, on her side. She stroked one leg sensuously against the other. “I’m sorry,” she groaned, “I just can’t keep my mind on business in your presence. I am just too hot!”

She unbuttoned the last button of her blouse and spread it open to reveal one delicate breast.

“Mrs. Penn – Mrs. Penncroft, wh-what in the world are you doing?” he stuttered in a strangled voice.

Judy was holding her head propped up with one hand. With the other, she reached over and eased the banker’s suit jacket back off one shoulder and then the other. “Aren’t you terribly warm in all those clothes?” she asked softly. “It is very warm in here. Why, you’re even perspiring!”

“Yes, yes, I guess it is rather warm. The air conditioning must have broken down,” Caldwell agreed. He shed his jacket with Judy’s help.

“I am just so warm,” Judy purred, rolling on her back on the desk. She felt the calendar digging into her shoulder and shoved it aside. Then she sensuously wriggled out of her blouse.

Milton Caldwell was at a total loss. He had never, ever encountered anything like this. Why, the woman was practically naked! Right in the middle of his desk! And her breasts, they looked so soft and exciting, like mounds of ice cream. They were delicious gentle white hills, with sharp pink points. What would happen if he touched them? They were just too inviting not to. He reached out with shaking fingers and gently brushed the pink points – and jerked his hand back when he felt an electric charge streak up his arm. He had never before touched anything so incredibly hot and exciting.

“Oh, yes,” Judy hissed. Her passion was becoming real. Something about seducing this balding innocent was incredibly exciting. The gentle, shy touch of his fingers on her tits made her breasts burn with excitement.

She reached down and unfastened her skirt. Then she lifted her hips off the desk and eased her skirt down over her thighs, let it slide down her legs and kicked it off.

The wood of the desk was cool against her buttocks, even through her panties. Nearly naked, Judy writhed sensuously on the banker’s desk.

She rubbed the insides of her thighs together, thrilling to the feel of satin skin against satin skin. Caldwell’s shaking fingers were playing delicately with her tits, making her nipples burn. When he finally engulfed her small breasts with both of his sweating hands, Judy’s eyes glazed with passion. God, she loved having her body caressed by a man – or a woman for that matter. It just felt so incredibly, wonderfully good to have hands touching her.

“Aren’t you wearing too many clothes?” she whispered softly.

“Yes,” Milton Caldwell squeaked. “I am, I am wearing too many clothes.”

Jerking his hands off Judy’s breasts, he lurched up from his chair, sending it banging back into the wall. He tore frantically at his vest.

A gold pocket watch popped out of its pocket and swung wildly on the end of its chain as he hurriedly stripped off his vest. Then he was tearing at his pants, his shirt.

His sleeveless undershirt was bulged out by his potbelly, and his legs, protruding from the bottom of his boxer shorts, were skinny and knobby and ludicrous. But there was something lurking inside those shorts that was enough to make Judy’s mouth and pussy both water. Then the banker stripped off his underwear, and Judy gulped. Hanging below the man’s potbelly was the most titanic, incredibly delicious-looking cock she had ever seen in her entire life. It dangled obscenely downward, a monstrous pillar of blood-engorged flesh, pallid white with a pink knob. A shining drool of lubricant swung pendulum-like toward the floor from the slit at the tip.

“My panties,” Judy croaked. “Take off my panties.”

Caldwell was licking his lips mindlessly. He was giddy with a lust he had never felt in his life. He felt his swollen cock swinging ponderously between his scrawny thighs. As he moved around to the end of his desk, his cock rapped against it with a dull thud, sending a painful jolt through him. He reached for the lithe, graceful woman’s panties, and hooked his pudgy fingers in the elastic. He fastened his eyes on her breasts as he hauled her panties off her, exposing more and more of her incredibly pretty belly, then a dark, thrilling patch of hair. She lifted her hips off the desk, and he pulled and tugged the lacy garment down, noting how the crotch seemed to cling up between her thighs. The lace pulled away from her bush and he could see two pouting lips and a dark, exciting slit between them far down between her thighs. Ruffled pink folds protruded from her slit.

This was what the girly magazines he had risked buying had concealed from him. This was what was really in that formless gray area they showed, or behind the artfully positioned thigh or towel or hand. This was the secret that had been withheld from him for all these years.

He felt as if he were about to explode.

Judy let her thighs spread, and dangled her feet and legs over the end of the desk. She opened herself wide to the man, blatantly exposing the hot core of her sex.

“Touch me – down there,” she urged him. “Touch me! See what I have down there. All for you, just for you.” She fondled her breasts, pressing and massaging them, rolling the nipples between her fingers.

Caldwell stood between her open thighs, drooling at the sight of her wantonly exposed pussy. He heard her request, and couldn’t believe his incredible good fortune. His pudgy hands trembled with a palsied lust as he reached for her dark, exciting bush. The hair was springy and wiry. He combed his fingers through it, combed the coils out straight and watched how they sprang back to embrace the pale flesh under them.

He touched the labia through the hair, and was amazed at how soft and yielding the flesh was in spite of the hard bone beneath. Then he spread the labia, exposing a flash of brilliant, shining pink underneath.

Incredibly complicated, was his first thought. There were marvelously intricate folds of pink tissues. There, what was that, that funny looking little pink pearl up near the top? He touched it.

Judy sucked in her breath at the fiery touch on her clitoris.

Caldwell jerked his hand back as the woman flinched.

“Again,” Judy urged. “Touch me there again.”

He did, and was amazed at her reaction, at the way the flat plane of her stomach heaved. He flicked the turgid button again, and watched Judy writhe and jerk on the top of his desk. Then he went exploring again. There was a deep, thrilling, mysterious-looking hole down between her thighs. He probed it delicately, and felt hot juices coat his thumb. A warm, incredibly exciting smell filled his nose as he studied the pink orifice at closer range through his bifocals.

“Fuck me,” Judy urged softly. She was burning up with lust. In her mind she held the picture of the banker’s mighty cock. The way he was probing her pussy with his hands only made her more aware of its gaping emptiness.

Milton Caldwell barely heard her, and didn’t understand what she was saying anyway. He was more interested in exploring the new territory spread before him. What was that, further back, below that large, dark opening? What was that tight, puckered brown bud between her buttocks?

It had to be her anus! The realization sent a shock through Caldwell.

He felt a surge of disgust and revulsion. But his lust overcame it.

Perverted curiosity urged him to explore that intriguing orifice.

Delicately, he poked one finger at the tiny opening in the heart of the puckered ring.

“Jesus!” Judy erupted in shock at the unexpected touch. God that felt good!

Licking his lips with excitement, his eyes bulging, Milton Caldwell probed that tight hole again, boring his index finger into it with a twisting motion. Something about exploring that foul hole was unbelievably exciting.

“Aaaaahhhhhhwww shit,” Judy growled insanely. The finger, or whatever it was being worked up into her backside, felt unbelievably good! What in the world was happening with this weird little man? How was it that both of them were receiving an education? Judy had thought she knew it all, but the banker’s innocent curiosity was quickly disproving that.

The hole Caldwell was probing felt tight, and hot, and greasy around his finger. But once he got beyond the tight closure, into her rectum, she opened out. He twisted and turned his finger in her hole, exploring. When he drew his finger out, her ring of muscle snapped tightly shut again.

Judy whimpered from the extraction, suddenly missing something that she had never known existed. “Fuck me,” she pleaded again, more loudly.

This time the man heard her, and cared, and wanted to. But the entire thing was so totally beyond his experience he didn’t know what to do, and stood there between her thighs.

“I-I don’t know how,” he admitted, agonized. “I don’t know how.” He was about to dissolve into tears.

Judy levered herself up on her arms. “It’s all right, I’ll show you, I’ll show you,” she told him quickly. She eased her ass to the edge of the desk.

“Come,” she urged softly. “Come close.”

Hesitantly, the potbellied banker stepped up between her thighs.

Sitting on the edge of the desk, Judy reached down and took his titanic cock in her fingers. It was hot and heavy. She lifted and weighed it wonderingly. “God, it’s so big,” she sighed softly.

“Is it, really?” the man asked shyly.

“It really is,” Judy answered honestly. “Come here.” She tugged him closer to her. “It goes here,” she instructed, nestling the tip in between her labia, wedging them open with the rounded pink head.

“Oooohhh,” Caldwell sighed. “You feel so hot.”

“Now, in,” Judy urged in a choked voice, tugging at the exposed shaft.

She felt her vagina slowly stretching to accommodate the banker’s monster phallus. She knew her hole had never ever been faced with absorbing such a monstrous invasion. “In,” she urged again, talking as much to herself as she was to him.

Looking down her slender, hungry body, Judy could see the massive shaft slowly burrowing into her vagina, just as she could feel it. She could feel her flesh stretching to encompass the mammoth organ. The towering pale column that connected her with the banker gleamed and pulsed as he worked it deeper and deeper into her body, the distance between them diminishing slowly. “In,” she whispered.

“My God,” Milton Caldwell gasped. “Oh, my God!” It was unbelievable, the feeling of his engorged, enraged penis being engulfed by hot, clinging flesh. Nerves he had never known existed were carrying incredible messages of pleasure to his dazed mind. Rivers of flame were zooming along his ganglia, making his flabby muscles quiver and tremble.

It was incredible, phenomenal the way the petite woman’s body took his thing in. The hole he was driving his cock into seemed almost to suck it in. She felt hot and ripply and velvety and slippery. He had never known it was possible for any two things to embrace as closely as the flesh of her vagina and the skin of his cock were. He could feel every quiver of her muscular tube, every fiber and ripple of the clinging walls.

A hot pool was gathering deep in his guts, a steaming, impatient, too long suppressed wad of semen.

“In!” Judy rasped sharply, releasing the sliver of prick still showing and feeling the head of his phallus butt mindlessly against the end of her vagina. She leaned back on her arms, her mouth hanging open as she enjoyed the feeling of being so incredibly full of cock. She felt as if she had a telephone pole in her, stretching her in every direction. Her hands slid slowly out from under her and she lay back on the desk. Her sharp nipples, rigid with lust, jutted straight up toward the ceiling.

The tower in her guts demanded rigidity of its socket, so she arched her back to keep the angle of penetration right.

Milton Caldwell’s cock was getting used to being held so warmly and tightly, and that was taking some of the searing pleasure out of the act. The arching pale tummy and body stretched on his desk beckoned to him. He reached out and stroked his soft hands over her tender skin, over her breasts and her belly. Judy shifted and he felt the walls of her vagina slide around his cock. That was it! That was the feeling!

Experimentally, the banker drew back, sliding his monster phallus out of her. His prick blazed with renewed life from the friction. He pushed back into that hot gripping glove, and his penis erupted in incredible flames of pleasure.

“Wwaaahhh,” Judy moaned at the feeling of being emptied and then restuffed with the huge organ. It was incredible!

Caldwell drew out again, sliding his prick almost completely out of the hole. Then he rocked forward, ramming it deep into the woman again.

Flames roared higher in his groin. It was like the pressures and fires of a volcano building higher and higher. There was an eruption building there, an explosive convulsion that would bathe his entire being in pleasure. All it was going to take was just a fraction more stimulation and it would be inevitable.

He drew out and felt the first pre-tremors of the major blast. Quickly, desperately, instinctively, he rammed his cock deep into the searing tunnel and he felt it happening, an indescribable convulsing and pumping of muscles and reservoirs he had never known existed. Something marvelous seared the length of his cock and exploded from the tip to spatter against the clutching end of Mrs. Penncroft’s vagina. Bolt after searing bolt of lightning electrified the entire length of his phallus, and the backlash seared his nerves with ecstasy. His hips thrust forward, buried the head of his cock against the end of the fleshy socket. His cum pressured through the space, hydraulically separating his flesh from hers.

Milton Caldwell gurgled senselessly, his body arching, his eyes bulging as he unloaded thirty years of suppressed cum into the lithe body on his desk. His muscles squeezed and convulsed and pumped and pumped and pumped until he ached with exhaustion. Then their convulsing faded to just a quivering. Panting, flushed and sweaty, the banker fell forward over Judy, smothering her with his bulk.

“Nooooo ” Judy whimpered. “Not so soon, not already.” But it was hopeless. She felt the banker’s organ shrinking in her still hungry vagina, leaving her hanging on the brink of her own orgasm. Pleasure faded and was replaced with misery, a hungry ache deep in her guts.

“Aawww, shit,” she swore miserably, beating on the banker’s flabby back with ineffectual fists.

Aroused, he pushed up off her and backed away, his prick slipping free of her pussy. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “Oh, dear God, I am so sorry!”

“So am I,” Judy admitted in a husky voice.

“I shouldn’t have… I don’t know what happened to me. I don’t know what came over me,” the bewildered man babbled.

“Mr. Caldwell,” Judy said sharply.

“Yes? What?” he stuttered, holding his boxer shorts vaguely in front of himself.

“About that mortgage,” Judy said.

“What about the mortgage?” Caldwell asked stupidly.

“Will you approve Mr. McCarter’s mortgage?” Judy asked patiently.

“I beg your pardon?”

Judy was still seated on his desk. Deliberately, she posed for him, giving him the best possible view of her naked body, all skin and curves and exciting dark hair. “You’ve had a sample, Mr. Caldwell.

There might be a bonus in it for you if you were to approve that mortgage,” she informed him huskily. He had damn well better approve it, she thought. She was burning up with unsatisfied lust!

The man got a crafty look. “You mean…”

Judy didn’t say a word. Instead, she slid one hand down her belly to her pussy and slid her fingers into her dripping, soggy swamp of pubic hair. She licked her lips as she played with herself.

Caldwell dropped his underpants and scrabbled wildly through the papers that had spilled from his desk. His buttocks bobbed comically as he pawed through the litter. Finally he lurched to his feet, waving the long form triumphantly like a flag.

Turning, Judy reached for the desk set and took the pen from its socket. She offered it to him delicately. She hovered over him, one breast nearly in his face as he scrawled his signature on the application.

The instant he was done, Judy pulled the pen out of his hand and speared it back into its hole. Then she picked up the form and carefully blew the ink dry. She could see the pudgy man’s marvelous organ rising slowly to attention as she blew. Flipping the application casually aside, she rolled from the desk and launched herself at the banker. Pressing the full length of her warm, womanly body against his, she kissed and nibbled his mouth. She pressed him backward and downward on the gray carpet until he lay in front of her. Licking her lips with excitement, she fondled his towering phallus. She had to do it, she just had to see what that incredible column of meat would taste like.

She lowered her head and took the cap in her mouth, amazed at how wide her jaw had to gape to take it.

It was warm and pulsing with life. It tasted of cum, his cum, and her juices. She slurped up the mingling of flavors with gusto. Her vagina was squeezing, searching blindly for the monumental meal that had been so unceremoniously snatched away from it.

Holding the mammoth shaft in her hand, Judy straddled the banker’s hips and lifted herself over his tower. Nestling the head in her opening, she lowered herself on it, driving it up into her belly in one steady thrust. She felt as if she was being split open by the huge organ.

“Uh!” she grunted, dropping the last inch.

“Oh my!” Milton Caldwell gasped. It was there again, that wonderful, gripping, embrace around his penis. He shifted his hips and felt that marvelous hot friction of flesh against flesh. The simmering pool was already building deep in his groin.

Leaning forward, Judy braced her hands on his shoulders and lifted and dropped, pistoning on the shaft in her guts. She was close to an orgasm already, rapidly regaining the peak she had left just minutes before.

She loved the slapping squishy sound of her body meeting Caldwell’s, thrilled to the thick stench of sex. And there was something else she wanted to try. She took one of Caldwell’s hands and dragged it around to her ass. She worked his fingers into the crack there.

“You want?”

“Stick your finger up my butt,” she ordered harshly.

Caldwell didn’t have to be asked twice. Just the thought of that vile act filled him with a lewd excitement. He sought and found her anus in the sweaty, steaming crevice of her bottom. Her flesh was slimy with cum, making entry easy. He bored his finger up into the tight, resisting opening, twisting and turning as if he were screwing an awl into her.

Judy lay forward over the banker, bathed in searing pleasure from the cock in her vagina and the finger in her tail. She squirmed and writhed against him as the level of her pleasure rose and rose and rose. She groaned and whimpered as the fires roared higher and higher and higher from the itching friction of a finger in her asshole and a monstrous cock in her vagina.

Caldwell was grunting and sweating as he twisted his finger in the greasy opening. He could feel his cock through her flesh! He heaved, pistoning his cock in her vagina. He could feel his finger with his cock! The increased frictional stimulation blistered along his nerves, bringing his climax still closer.

“Aw-aw-awh-awh,” Judy grunted as she worked and wriggled on the two invaders, grinding her clitoris to a fiery paste against Caldwell’s pubic bone. “Aw – I’m cum – I’m cumm – I’m cumminnnnggggggg,” she moaned insanely, clutching at the banker with her arms and her legs and her torso. She sank her teeth in the flesh of his shoulder as she came and came and came. She was vaguely aware of his hips jamming up against hers. She felt spurts of semen slamming against the end of her vagina.

Her anus was clenching and squeezing the finger in its grasp as it got in on the orgasm, too.

Then there was nothing but muscle-aching exhaustion left. Wearily, she hauled herself off the banker after his prick had shriveled to a feeble limp shadow of its former self.

“Aaah, me,” Milton Caldwell sighed as he lay on his back, catching his breath.

Judy began gathering her clothes. Slowly, aching, she dressed, feeling cum streaming from her pussy. Reaching in her purse, she found a tampon. With her back to Caldwell, she inserted it to staunch the flow of semen, reflecting as she did that she had no shame. Then she put on her panties and the rest of her clothes.

“Mr. Caldwell, I think you had better get dressed,” she said calmly.

“Oh? Oh. Oh, my goodness!” the banker exclaimed, looking at the chaotic office. Papers were all over the floor. He scrambled to his feet and into his clothes, fumbling in his haste. Then he was down on his knees raking up the papers. Judy knelt and helped him, then dumped the drifts untidily on his desk. Carefully, she put the signed mortgage agreement in his “Out” basket.

“Thank you very much, Mr. Caldwell,” she said politely.

“It – it’s been a pleasure doing business with you, Mrs. Penncroft,” he replied. “I’ll see you at the closing.”

Judy crossed the open area of the bank as if nothing had happened.


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