Read Online XXX - 136 Office Slave by J. W. McKenna - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: J. W. McKenna
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that burned Ellen's soul.
She stood there, mute and shaking, as Bill loaded up his car and drove away without a backward glance. She shut the door and leaned against it. Now she really was screwed, she thought, not even smiling at the irony of that phrase. Jack had only agreed to pay for half the expenses—there's no way she could cover the rest. She'd have to sell the house for sure.
Maybe that wasn't such a bad thing. That meant that Jack wouldn't have to pay nearly as much for a cheap apartment as a house. She could wrap up her ordeal in far less time. She'd have to do the math.
"Jack will know what to do,” she whispered to herself. “I'll ask Jack.” She caught herself. “I'll ask Mr. Sawyer.” That she would defer to her boss didn't seem strange to her. In just twenty-four hours her life had fallen under his control, and she seemed ready to give him all her problems.
She couldn't eat, her stomach was too upset. She had another scotch and went to bed. Her only thought before she fell asleep was: I hope I can shave my pussy properly by myself.
The next morning, El was groggy when the alarm went off at seven. She got up late and took another shower. She sat on the closed toilet seat afterwards and shaved herself as carefully as she could. Using a hand mirror, she thought she reached nearly every bit of stubble, but it was awkward and took far too long.
It was 8:15 by the time she raced into her bedroom to pick out an outfit. Her “new” wardrobe consisted of a few short skirts and tops; she'd have to buy more soon. She threw on a denim miniskirt and a light blue top. Since she didn't have to worry about underwear, she could be dressed in minutes. Remembering Jack's comment about her shoes, El chose a pair of tan sandals with three-inch heels. She had bought them before she'd gotten married and rarely wore them. Now she felt tall and shapely, if a bit unstable.
With a sudden bolt of fear, she realized she had forgotten to put on her makeup. She looked at her watch: 8:25. There was no time to put on a foundation. Quickly, she smeared on some eyeliner and rouge, then coated her lips. She wished she'd remembered to buy false eyelashes. Maybe Jack would allow her to purchase them during the workday.
She heard the car horn just as she finished brushing her teeth, so she dropped everything and ran out the door. It was Jack, not Raphael, she was happy to see. She got in and, without being asked, pulled up her skirt and sat on the seat. She spread her legs for him. His hand reached over and rested against her pussy. It made her feel hot and lightheaded.
"You seemed to be running behind today,” Jack said, his fingers teasing her.
"Um, yes. I had a little trouble getting up."
"How did Bill take it last night?” He made no move to drive away.
Well, might as well tell him, she thought. “Not well. He left me, went home to his parents'."
Jack glanced at her. “How does that make you feel?"
"Like a failure. Like I've been abandoned. ‘Course, I can't exactly blame him. As he pointed out, I made this decision on my own, without any input from him. So I got what I deserved."
"I guess that changes things—concerning the house, I mean."
"Yeah. I'll have to put it on the market now. Of course, I'll give you anything I make from it—unless you want me to use that money to get a cheap apartment."
What was unspoken, of course, was: Are you going to help me pay for my living expenses?
Jack was silent for a time. He simply stroked her pussy. She found herself getting lost in his attentions. Finally, he said, “Yes, you should put your house on the market right away. I know a realtor who might be willing to help you out."
El knew what that meant—more sex in exchange for services. Her stomach fluttered and she wasn't sure if it was from the thought of her ever-expanding list of “clients” or Jack's fingers rubbing her clit.
He suddenly stopped and El opened her eyes to look at him. “Rather than get an
She stood there, mute and shaking, as Bill loaded up his car and drove away without a backward glance. She shut the door and leaned against it. Now she really was screwed, she thought, not even smiling at the irony of that phrase. Jack had only agreed to pay for half the expenses—there's no way she could cover the rest. She'd have to sell the house for sure.
Maybe that wasn't such a bad thing. That meant that Jack wouldn't have to pay nearly as much for a cheap apartment as a house. She could wrap up her ordeal in far less time. She'd have to do the math.
"Jack will know what to do,” she whispered to herself. “I'll ask Jack.” She caught herself. “I'll ask Mr. Sawyer.” That she would defer to her boss didn't seem strange to her. In just twenty-four hours her life had fallen under his control, and she seemed ready to give him all her problems.
She couldn't eat, her stomach was too upset. She had another scotch and went to bed. Her only thought before she fell asleep was: I hope I can shave my pussy properly by myself.
The next morning, El was groggy when the alarm went off at seven. She got up late and took another shower. She sat on the closed toilet seat afterwards and shaved herself as carefully as she could. Using a hand mirror, she thought she reached nearly every bit of stubble, but it was awkward and took far too long.
It was 8:15 by the time she raced into her bedroom to pick out an outfit. Her “new” wardrobe consisted of a few short skirts and tops; she'd have to buy more soon. She threw on a denim miniskirt and a light blue top. Since she didn't have to worry about underwear, she could be dressed in minutes. Remembering Jack's comment about her shoes, El chose a pair of tan sandals with three-inch heels. She had bought them before she'd gotten married and rarely wore them. Now she felt tall and shapely, if a bit unstable.
With a sudden bolt of fear, she realized she had forgotten to put on her makeup. She looked at her watch: 8:25. There was no time to put on a foundation. Quickly, she smeared on some eyeliner and rouge, then coated her lips. She wished she'd remembered to buy false eyelashes. Maybe Jack would allow her to purchase them during the workday.
She heard the car horn just as she finished brushing her teeth, so she dropped everything and ran out the door. It was Jack, not Raphael, she was happy to see. She got in and, without being asked, pulled up her skirt and sat on the seat. She spread her legs for him. His hand reached over and rested against her pussy. It made her feel hot and lightheaded.
"You seemed to be running behind today,” Jack said, his fingers teasing her.
"Um, yes. I had a little trouble getting up."
"How did Bill take it last night?” He made no move to drive away.
Well, might as well tell him, she thought. “Not well. He left me, went home to his parents'."
Jack glanced at her. “How does that make you feel?"
"Like a failure. Like I've been abandoned. ‘Course, I can't exactly blame him. As he pointed out, I made this decision on my own, without any input from him. So I got what I deserved."
"I guess that changes things—concerning the house, I mean."
"Yeah. I'll have to put it on the market now. Of course, I'll give you anything I make from it—unless you want me to use that money to get a cheap apartment."
What was unspoken, of course, was: Are you going to help me pay for my living expenses?
Jack was silent for a time. He simply stroked her pussy. She found herself getting lost in his attentions. Finally, he said, “Yes, you should put your house on the market right away. I know a realtor who might be willing to help you out."
El knew what that meant—more sex in exchange for services. Her stomach fluttered and she wasn't sure if it was from the thought of her ever-expanding list of “clients” or Jack's fingers rubbing her clit.
He suddenly stopped and El opened her eyes to look at him. “Rather than get an
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