Depraved Affairs - Realism

My husband always thinks things will work out. It's the hallmark of any idealist, and part of me loved it. The rest cleaned up after the messes he made, which was often. I mean, I understand the business has been in his family since the 1920s, but he has no idea what he's doing with it. Mr. Harlan's offer to buy it out is generous, but of course, he turned it down.

That's why I'm here on a 'night with the girls', dressed to kill underneath this trench coat. Crimson lipstick, black lingerie, knee-high fuck me boots. At the end of the day, I knew the only thing that Mr. Harlan wants, and that's me.

Inside the room, I find Mr. Harlan seated at a table, wearing a casual dress shirt and a cocky smile. The baldy man is pushing fifty, with the face of a bulldog and the body of a bear. Still, it could be a lot worse.

"Come on in, Gina." He says.

"Yes, Mr. Harlan."

I walk into the room and sit at the table with him.

"Thank you for taking the time, Mr. Harlan. I appreciate it."

He gives me a nod, but he doesn't break his stoic look. "So what do you have for me?"

Putting the files on the table, I say "This is the new client my husband has found. I'm sure you can poach him. That should convince Tim to take your offer."

"Even at a discount."

"There will be no discount." My husband won't accept a lower offer, even if he should've taken the original buyout offer. Idealists...

Mr. Harlan raises an eyebrow. "Why not?"

"Because there's another bonus to this deal."

I stand up and open my coat, causing Mr. Harlan's jaw drop. As the trench coat falls down, Mr. Harlan stands up and circles me like a hound does its prey. Once he's behind me, he puts his hands on the front clasp of my bra and kisses my neck. After removing my bra, a hand of his snakes inside of my black panties and touches my slit. That's when he whispers "You are an expert negotiator, Gina."

"Don't you think I know that?" I ask, his hand squeezing on my breast.

"I'm sure you do. I just want you to know how much I appreciate that."

His finger then meets with my clitoris and rubs gently. As I purr, I wonder if I'll actually enjoy this. Maybe this old dog still knows a few tricks that my husband doesn't. God, what am I thinking? This is supposed to be business, not pleasure. Then again, there's no reason for them to be separate on this occasion. Especially when he's this good with his fingers.

"You're loving this, aren't you?" He asks, sinking two fingers inside of me.


"Mhmm, you're so wet."

"I... I am."

"Say it."

"My pussy's wet."

"You're pussy's wet for who?"

"Ugh... my pussy's wet for you, Mr. Harlan."

Those words made me sick. I shouldn't be that honest with him, but the reality is that I do want it. His arms are strong, so much more than Tim's. And hell, he's been too busy to fuck me for the last month or so. Realistically, this is all his fault.

"Taste yourself."

Mr. Harlan's fingers meet with my lips. I suck on them, tasting my wetness. My desire. My new reality.

"Get on the bed for me." Mr. Harlan orders.

"Yes Sir."

I walk to the bed with a practiced strut. When I turn around, I find him throwing his shirt off, flaunting his beefy, hairy torso. My eyes follow his hands to his beltline, wondering what he'll pull out. The belt then flies past me as he undoes his fly. Biting my lip, I watch him pull out his horse cock. He's absolutely fucking huge, and the grin tells me he knows how surprised I am.

"Not what you're expecting?" He says.

"Not at all." I reply as he looms over me.

With a smile, I motion him over with a finger. No point denying how much I want it. Mr. Harlan pounces me like a hound, pinning me down before he guides his throbbing shaft inside of me. It slides inside my wetness with ease, and thrusts deep, making me yelp. Pawing my breasts, Mr. Harlan locks eyes with me before winding up another deep, hard, thrust. Again I yelp and brace for impact, which...





The bear of a man uses his muscles to push my legs back as far as possible. He then grows as he begins to plow me, somehow sniping my spot with perfection. There's no way I can contain my passionate cries. I'd underestimated Mr. Harlan. Thought of him as only my perverted prey, but the truth is he's an apex predator. Every part of his body is overpowering me. His eyes see right through mine. His hands pin my shoulders down, and my God, his cock is just fucking perfect.

It's not long before he has me trembling. My knuckles are turning white as I clench the mattress, and my legs shake whilst he continues to ravage me. Realistically, there's only one thing I have to say:

"You're making me cum!"

I wither around underneath Mr. Harlan, lost in the pleasure of my orgasmic high. Before I can come back down to Earth, Mr. Harlan is flinging me around the bed. I find myself on all fours, and my stallion looming above me, ready to plow me with his horse cock once more. I swear Tim would normally be done by now, but it's not like I'm able to count the seconds. No, all I can do is take his pounding and count the orgasms.

It doesn't matter what position this stallion has me in, whether he has me on all fours, on my side, or laying on my stomach. He makes me cum each and every time, where lesser men would have been well tired out. By the time he's done, he rolls me onto my back and mounts me, pointing his cock at me and stroking away. I open my mouth as invitation for his coming load, and sure enough, rope after rope coats my face. Once he's done, I look up to him with a smile.

"So, do we have a deal?" I ask, breathlessly.

"One condition: You become my secretary."

My smile grows. What can I say? I'm a realist and realistically, I won't be able to get enough of Mr. Harlan.