Gain Access to Member Area

Signup for the free Bronze membership (it takes 20 seconds), which gives you access to not only the full 15,000+ story library, but also the exclusive member area with lots of cool features like: Voting on stories, Bookmarking stories, searching for stories, reccommended stories, member forums, profiles and much more!.

Click here to create your free account



Story Info

Posting Date 2009-09-04 19:01:54
Author riotpriest
Title Payday Loan Part II
Category slept with my boss/teacher/colleque
Where it happend On my desk
Age then 26
Age now 39
Gender MALE
Viewed 100
Story Length 1533

(12 votes / 77 points)

Rate this story











Bookmark this story! View Authors Profile!
Send comments to Author. View Authors BookMarks
Report this story to the admin!

Back to latest search results

Payday Loan Part II


Part II

Almost a week after I spanked her, Keesa was still leery around me. Not especially frightened but no longer falsely cheerful. On a Tuesday morning I heard her crash through the outer door of the suite. I was just opening the lobby door as she struggled with a boxed coffee maker.

“What’s this?”

“I know you like coffee and I know you don’t like the stuff in the can,” Keesa said almost out of breath. “I got this on clearance and a friend told me that place you like sells their coffee in a bag.”


“To thank you,” Keesa said, looking at me in the most vulnerable of ways.

“For what?” I asked, looking into her beautiful hazel eyes.

Keesa’s café latte complexion darkened to cinnamon but her eyes stayed with mine and there was the briefest of momentary smolder. Then she dropped her head and stared at her sensible shoes. “The clothes… I got them but, I mean I don’t have them, but ...”

“Alterations, I’m sure,” I supplied.

“Yes, they said I can pick them up today, this afternoon,” Keesa gushed. “I could wear them tomorrow.”

“See that you do,” I said.

Keesa looked expectant, then disappointed when I walked back to my office.

The next day I was concluding a phone call when Keesa walked into my office with out knocking. She looked better than I could have ever imagined. Her oversized slacks were replaced by a high-waisted skirt; a chain-belt accentuated her slender but pronounced hips. A lavender colored, men’s cut Oxford blouse was tucked into the skirt, the three top buttons undone to just hint at her ample cleavage. A pair of four inch Farragamo heels amplified her long legs. Her hair, normally pulled back in a braid or folded up in a bun, was unrestrained and lusterous.

“I brought you a cup of coffee,” Keesa said, carefully approaching my desk.

“You came into my office without knocking?” I challenged. “Without my permission?”

Keesa’s eyes went wide and she stopped stock-still. As I stood, I could see her eyes better. There was fear but there was something else also. Slowly, I sat back in my chair.

“Well, bring it here.”

Complying, Keesa rounded my desk and sat the mug down on my desk. “Do you take sugar or milk?”

“It’s too hot, I can see the steam rising off the cup,” I said, ignoring her question. “Blow on it.”

Keesa started to pick the cup back up.

“I didn’t tell you to pick the cup up, did I?”

“No,” she replied hoarsely, bending to the cup.

“I didn’t tell you to paw all over my desk either, did I?”


Keesa bent at the waist, puckered her full lips and softly blew on the cup. I rested my hand on her bare leg. Keesa had trouble breathing and blowing.

“I didn’t tell you to stop,” I said. “You’re taking all kinds of liberties today, aren’t you?”

I eased my hand up. Over her defined calf, I caressed the nape of her knee, causing more breathing problems for Keesa.

“Oh, God…”

“Did I tell you that you could speak?”

“Nn, no…”

“Hmm,” I said. “I think you need another lesson.”

This produced a shudder in Keesa’s breathing. Her knees trembled under my hand and her back faltered in the bent position.

“Do you suppose that I am being unfair?”

“No, no,” Keesa seemed to be having trouble with her speech also.

“Do you suppose that I ask too much?”

“No, of course… nng,” she slurred as my hand crept up the inner sanctum of her madding thighs.

Her back gave but I caught her shoulder with my left hand before her face hit the cup. “Maybe this is too much for you and you should quit.”

“Nooo,” she husked.

My hand was at the crown of her thighs; my index finger rested on her pubic mound, my thumb was cradled in the cleft of her ass. Heat permeated the thin silk of her strained, size-small panties. She was still buying as if she were not pregnant and putting on weight daily.

“Well, do you think you’ve repaid what you owe me?”


My index finger was softly circling her slit, my thumb pressing and probing her crack, all through silky panties.

“Do you want to place your hands on my desk?”

“Yes, sir, please.”

“Do think you’ve atoned for your misbehavior today?”


“Do you want to spread your legs?”

“God, yes.”

I pushed my chair back but when I began to withdraw my right hand, Keesa locked her thighs on it.

“Spread you legs or it will only be worse for you.”

As I pulled the hem of her skirt up over her thighs, exposing her ample ass, Keesa spread her legs vulgarly, bent over, elbows on my desk. I squeezed her ass through the sheer, lavender panties. With my left hand, I found the top of her shirt and fondled her tits inside the shirt and embroidered lavender bra.

I stood behind her, pressing my erection into her cushiony-ass, stroking her cunt with my right hand, and messaging her tits with my left. Keesa’s breath was heavier. I pulled her back by the hair of her head and bit her neck. She teetered on her heels but I kept her pressed against me.

“Do not cum,” I said in her ear.

As if on cue, she pitched forward, calling out loudly. “Oowww!”

I held her up, one hand on her snatch and the other groping a D-cup tit.

“I told you not to cum,” I said, sitting back in my chair. “Bend over.”


“You heard me.”

She bent over the desk again. I tugged her panties off her ass and smacked her right cheek. There was no sharp intake of breath this time; she was ready for it. I smacked her left check, right, left, again and again and again. After several minutes, I watched her pussy drip on her panties and then down her thighs.

“All I do for you, have done for you and you still don’t listen,” I said, thumbing her cunt with my left hand as I pressed my right in her face. “Show me how you suck.”

Keesa sucked my index, middle, and even my ring finger as I worked her slit and clit. She was trembling with another climax on the horizon. Pulling my hand out of her mouth, I pressed my middle finger against her asshole. Keesa pushed back until the first digit of my saliva-lubed finger was in her ass. I pulled her by her disheveled shirt.

“Suck my cock.”

Towering over my lap and bent forward at an awkward angle, with her legs spread obscenely, Keesa must have been uncomfortable to say the least. Still she stood stiff-legged, bobbing on my phallus. Her succulent hips were in my face, my arm around her thighs as I finger fucked her ass in counter-time to stroke of her head.

As I intensified, my hand slamming into her cunt sprayed us both with fluid off of her pussy. Keesa intensified her sucking. I inserted my ring finger with my middle finger and her knees nearly buckled. Still, she was unable to stoop or bend her legs as I had her ass hoisted on my rigged fingers.

But I was fighting my own discomfort. Finally, unable to tolerate the frustration, any longer, I rose from the chair, lifting Keesa in one motion. I placed her gently on the desk, my fingers still in her ass. She was on her side now, facing me. Her long legs were spread wide, her panties long gone. A thin strip of hair seemed to point at her neat little snatch.

“Stroke it,” I said.

Keesa worked my cock with both hands, pumping and jerking. I finger fucked her face and her ass in unison. She stopped to unbutton her shirt and free her heavenly cocoa breasts. I squeezed and slapped her nipples. I pulled her hair.

“I’m cumming from your fingers in my ass,” she hissed.
I continued to punch away. Two fingers pistoning in her ass, my knuckles slamming into her pussy, my thumb slapping her clit.

“Can I cum, can I cum, please?”

“Cum, bitch,” I managed as she screeched and growled.

In turn, I shot a full load in her face and all over her hair.

We spent the next twenty minutes sharing my chair. Clothes half-on and half-off, shoes strone across the office, I tried to return my breathing to normal as Keesa cooed. She was curled in my lap with her face pressed against my chest. After a while, I realized she was asleep and as gently as I could, I moved her to the overstuffed leather couch in my office and covered her with a Navajo blanket that was draped over the couch as décor.

The coffee was lukewarm but very good. Next time I would have Keesa light one of my cigars to go with it.


Gain Access to Member Area

Signup for the free Bronze membership (it takes 20 seconds), which gives you access to not only the full 15,000+ story library, but also the exclusive member area with lots of cool features like: Voting on stories, Bookmarking stories, searching for stories, reccommended stories, member forums, profiles and much more!.

Click here to create your free account