my entire career, a great
salary, a good boss, and one of my best friends.
Gabi sat up and then moved to straddle
my waist. Her lips closed on mine. Her tongue darted between my
lips as she kissed me furiously.
“ Dammit!” I thought as my
cock reacted instinctively. The old adage was true about two things
you could always count on. The sun always rises in the east, and a
stick prick has no conscience.
Guiding herself atop my rapidly
burgeoning cock, I felt it slip slightly inside of her wetness.
Then she lunged down on me, filling herself with my now fully erect
meat.
“ Fuck me again! She
whispered urgently. “Fuck me really good!” She began thrusting
herself up and down on my cock.
Taking her hips in my hands, I began
lifting her up and down on my cock as she rode me, pulling her hard
down on my member with each stroke, and listening to her gasp in
ecstasy as she furiously rode me.
The Escalade began gently swaying back
and forth on its shocks again.
Chapter Two
I snuck back into the office after
stopping at a bathroom on another floor of our office building.
After checking for telltale signs of lipstick or other dead
giveaways, I straightened myself up and returned to my office. I
instantly thought back about how I gotten myself into this
predicament.
Just out of college, my father was a
member of an African Safari Hunting club, where wealthy Dallasites
met to swap war stories and share resources for hunting, both in
the United States and abroad. Jake Goldman, an aggressive insurance
broker was a famous member of this group, and had recently
impressed my dad with a presentation he gave about a world record
mountain goat he had killed on a safari in a remote part of
Kazakhstan. Jake had traveled by plane, train, Land Rover, and
finally by donkey to reach the remote area where he shot the goat.
Knowing it was a world record class animal, Jake had had it tracked
and followed by tribesman for weeks, in preparation for his
arrival. He killed it with a single long-range shot from over 500
yards.
After the presentation, my dad
introduced himself and made small talk with Jake for a while. He
finally ended up mentioning that I was about to graduate with
honors with an MBA from Wharton School of Business in
Pennsylvania.
“ Oh, a Wharton man?” Jake
had asked.
“ Yeah, his mom and I are
pretty proud of him,” my dad answered.
Jake fished a card out of his pocket
and handed it to my dad.
“ Tell your son to send me
a resume. I have some openings I’m looking to fill, and having
another Wharton man would be nice.”
“ Oh, you have another
Wharton grad with your company?” my dad asked.
“ Yeah, I do.” Jake held up
his class ring from the University of Pennsylvania.
“Me!”
So just a couple of days later, I
emailed Jake a resume and almost immediately got a call from an
assistant in his company scheduling me for an interview just days
after I was supposed to arrive back home after
graduation.
I arrived at the interview and was
ushered in to meet Jake.
“ Chris Jenkins, Sir.” I
held out my hand in introduction. He took it and shook it
firmly.
“ Just call me Jake.” His
face sported a pleasant smile. “Nobody around here ever calls me
sir.”
My dad told me that Jake was an
aggressive businessman. Although he allowed himself some
extravagances every now and then, he didn’t flash much of his
considerable wealth, living in a nice, but not ostentatious
neighborhood in Dallas. My dad quipped that since Jake was Jewish,
he probably still had 95 cents out of every dollar he had ever
made.
His office was Spartan. An elegant,
but understated wooden desk was nearly bare, capped only by a desk
calendar, a phone, a computer and two pictures. The biggest photo
was of a gorgeous, young blonde woman. I could scarcely keep my
eyes off of the picture as we talked. I guessed it was his
daughter, as she appeared to be just a little older than I was at
23 years of age.
Jake noticed me continually