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DEPENDABLE DONALD
By John Comstock
When I first went to work for Helene, I knew her only by reputation.
She was the founder and CEO of a software development
company in
I had no idea then what she really meant . . .
She was young, in her late 20s, but had already made her mark nationally and internationally, writing code in her teens and copyrighting everything she did. By the time she was 25 her company was generating more than $50 million a year in sales and she was a coveted speaker on the national lecture circuit.
Not only that – she was stunning. About five-seven, long black hair, a killer body, and four-inch spike heels that had rapidly become part of her trademark look. I admit I started fantasizing about her from the first time I met her at the conference.
My first few months on the new job were idyllic. We churned out one new software product after
another and the bonuses flowed in a never-ending stream. Six months after my arrival she asked me to travel
with her to a conference in
She was scheduled to be the keynote speaker and her hosts treated her like royalty. I wasn’t surprised to see every man in the room salivating at the idea of bedding this gorgeous, successful woman – but I was surprised when she started talking about them.
We were having an after-dinner drink on the first night of the conference. Her keynote speech had gone well and we’d retired to the bar with three of her hosts, all of them men. She leaned over to me after a few minutes and nodded at the other three, all of them temporarily distracted by a passing bar maid. “What do you think, Donald?” she whispered. “Do you think I should bed one of them tonight?”
I nearly spilled my drink, and when I felt her hand on my thigh I froze. A moment passed, then she took her hand away and started talking to one of the other men.
An hour later she left with one of the three and didn’t return. I didn’t see her again until the next afternoon, and she made no mention of the night before until a 4 p.m. meeting she’d scheduled for the two of us in her room. We needed to review our plans for a breakout session we would be jointly conducting the next day.
We talked about the session for a few minutes, then she asked if I wanted a drink. I was sitting on a couch and when she came over to me with a drink in each hand, she sat down next to me. Right next to me.
“Here’s to success tomorrow,” she toasted, looking me in the eye, and we both took a sip of our drinks. She didn’t remove her gaze, then toasted again: “And here’s to success tonight!” I didn’t know what to say, but I joined her in another sip. She put the glass down, leaned back and absently dropped her hand onto my leg.
“You know, Donald, it’s really rather amazing what men will do to get into my pants,” she said, and her hand began to move up and down my thigh. “I mean, they’ll agree to almost anything, and I’ve closed some of my best deals by giving them a taste.”
By this time my throat was dry and my cock was engorged. Her hand drifted idly across it each time she reached the top of my thigh, but she didn’t look down and didn’t seem to be all that interested in what was happening to me.
“Take tonight, for instance,” she said. “I’ll be sitting next to the CEO of one of the largest electronics companies in the country, and I know exactly what he’ll be thinking of. By morning, we should have a multi-year contract with his company.”
Suddenly she sprang to her feet and headed for the bedroom. “Time to get ready,” she called back over her shoulder. “See you this evening!”
As she left the room, I found it hard to breathe. I had no idea what was going on, but my blood was racing. It took a few moments for me to get up and leave.
That night I watched her from across the room as she and the CEO laughed and joked and maintained eye contact throughout most of the dinner – and the next day on the plane home she handed me the draft of the memorandum of understanding the two of them had put together that nailed down the contract.
The next few weeks were uneventful except for my fantasies. Clearly, this was a woman who knew what she had and used it to get what she wanted. Trouble was, I had no idea what she wanted from me.
The answer came at the next conference. We flew in two days early so she could do some shopping, and she insisted we stay in adjoining rooms so we could meet whenever the fancy struck her.
We spent the second morning working together on our presentations. As I started packing things up at the end of the meeting, she walked behind me and I suddenly found her hands on my shoulders.
“You know something, Donald?” she asked. “I think you just might be what I’ve been looking for.”
She began massaging my shoulder and neck muscles, gradually drawing my head back to lean against her stomach. I didn’t say a word.
“You may think everything comes easily for me,” she said. “After all, I’m still in my 20s, I’m a multi-millionaire, I run a major corporation and I have men stumbling all over themselves every time I come into a room.
“But I’m here to tell you the pressures are incredible, Donald. Just incredible. I need an outlet, a dependable outlet, somewhere I can turn where I don’t have to worry about flattering a man’s ego to get a contract or doing whatever he likes in bed to keep him on board.”
She stopped the massage and walked around the table, then leaned over and looked into my eyes.
“I need you, Donald.”
I stared back at her, the hair rising on my neck.
“Can you be my outlet, Donald? What do you think?”
“I . . . I . . . I don’t know exactly what you mean,” I said, my voice breaking a bit. She was such a vision, her breasts spilling toward me as she leaned over, her gorgeous face alight with interest.
“It’s simple,” she said, standing up and beginning to unbutton her blouse. “I need a man around me who doesn’t demand anything. A man I can toy with. A man I can have whenever I want him – without ever having to meet his needs.”
She finished unbuttoning the blouse, then took it off. “Can you be that man, Donald?” she asked. My cock gave me the answer.
She was wearing a deep black bra that matched the color of her hair, which spilled down across her shoulders. When she reached for the zipper on her skirt, I tried swallowing, and failed.
The skirt whispered down her legs and onto the floor as she stepped out of it and walked around the table toward me. She was wearing a black g-string and the bra, nothing else, and stood almost six feet tall in her trademark heels.
She reached down and took one of my hands, pulled me to my feet and began unbuttoning my shirt. Before I knew it she was releasing my cock from my clothes and stripping me. She pushed me onto the floor and stood above me, staring greedily at the size of my cock and my naked body.
Then she reached behind her and unhooked her bra. When her breasts fell clear my cock stiffened even more and began to bounce. She raised one of her legs and moved the tip of her stiletto heel to a position just above my balls, slowly lowered it until it touched the space between them, then gradually ground the tip into my groin.
“There are only two rules here, Donald,” she said, staring down into my eyes from far above me, her breasts crowding my line of vision.
“Number one, you do everything I tell you to do.
“Number two, you don’t dare have an orgasm. I want you ready, willing and able whenever I want you. I don’t ever want to wait for you.”
She didn’t even pause for me to reply. She knew she had me. I had no idea how to obey her second rule, but knew I’d try.
She took her foot away, then stood above me, one leg on either side, facing my cock with her ass immediately above my face. She slowly untied her g-string and let it fall away and I found myself staring at her beautiful black bush.
“Do you like what you see?” she whispered, but again didn’t wait for an answer. She bent her knees and lowered her ass toward me, and before I knew it she was speaking more loudly.
“Your tongue, Donald!”
She descended even further and my tongue plunged into her cunt. She gave a gasp, then ground her ass cheeks onto my face and simultaneously grabbed my cock with both hands.
I nearly came . . .
“Don’t you dare,” she barked. “We’re just getting started.”
Over the next five hours she fucked me every way imaginable, hardly spoke a word to me and had eight or ten orgasms. By the time she finished with me and headed for the shower to get ready for the opening dinner at the conference, I was a quivering wreck on the living room floor. I lay there for almost half an hour, listening to her moving about in the bathroom and the bedroom, and was still there when she emerged, stunning, ready to bedazzle every other man at the conference.
She looked down at me, smiled at the stiff cock and the engorged nipples that still tormented me.
“Better get ready for dinner, Donald,” she said. “And then come back here after dinner and wait for me.
“Of course,” she said, “it might be a long wait. I’m supposed to have a drink with the chief operating officer of a metallurgical company after dinner, and who knows what might come up.
“Just wait for me, no matter how long it takes.”
She walked to the door and looked back at me one more time.
“Oh, and Donald – don’t touch it while I’m gone.”
I didn’t have to ask what she meant. My cock knew.
I lay on the floor for another few minutes, then slowly pulled myself together and went to my room.
I arrived at the dinner a few minutes late, but managed to carry on an agreeable conversation with a young woman seated next to me. She was a public relations person for the conference and had nothing resembling Helene’s style or physical assets. But she was somewhat attractive and my hormones were running wild.
I looked up once and found Helene staring at me from another table with a big smile on her face. When she saw me looking at her, she slowly shook her head, and I knew the public relations woman was off-limits. Helene glanced at the side of the dining room and tilted her head, so I excused myself from the table and met her near one of the colonnades along the rear of the room.
“How are you feeling, Donald?” she asked, somewhat mischievously.
I didn’t answer. I didn’t think she needed or wanted an answer.
“Look, I know you’re turned on now,” she said, “and I know every woman in this place will light your fire.
“That’s fine,” she said. “I don’t mind if you get even more frustrated than you were when I left you in the room.
“But remember this: I own your cock now. That’s the third rule: You can tease yourself all you want by hanging out with other women, but if you ever have sex with any of them I’ll fire you instantly and you’ll never spend another moment with me.
“It’s your choice, Donald,” she said, then smiled again and walked away.
I watched her moving languorously back to her table and nearly came on the spot, then went back to the young public relations woman and flirted with her shamelessly for the next hour. I’m sure she expected me to take her for a drink (and who knows what else?), but as the final speaker concluded his remarks, I excused myself and headed back to Helene’s room.
The hour with the public relations woman had been delicious. I was so turned on I’m sure it radiated out of every pore, and I could tell she was responding. When I reached Helene’s room I immediately took off all my clothes and lay back on the bed. My entire body was throbbing, and I realized Helene’s second and third rules were the ones that had thoroughly ensnared me. Giving up control of my cock was the most exciting thing I’d ever done.
I eventually fell asleep, and she didn’t return to the room until almost six a.m. When she did, she was horny as hell. “I fucked him, Donald,” she said as she crawled into bed with me. “I fucked him three times, and by the end of this conference we’ll have another multi-year contract. I’ll be fucking him again tonight and tomorrow night.”
She whipped the covers off the bed and saw the size of my cock. She leaned over and took it into her mouth, began sucking it ferociously. I thought I’d erupt, but she squeezed my balls as hard as she could and I cried out.
She slapped at my cock once, hard, then again, then threw herself onto the bed next to me on her back and spread her legs.
“Suck me,” she ordered. “Suck all that cum out of my pussy.”
I slid down the bed, knelt between her legs and buried my face in her cunt. It was full of juices, some of them hers.
“All of it,” she commanded. “Suck all of it out.”
She came three times in the next two hours, then fell into a dead sleep until noon.
The next two nights were the same. I teased myself by flirting with attractive young women each evening, then waited for Helene’s return. Each time, I sucked her to repeated orgasms.
And then it was time to fly back to
I just blinked, and she laughed.
“Okay,” she said. “Here are the rest of the rules. From now on, I want you available to me all the time, not just during conferences. That means you’ll be moving into the same building as my penthouse. I don’t want anybody else knowing about us, but I want you there whenever I want you.
“Of course, you have a choice. You can quit and try to find another job. Might be hard, though. You’d need a good reference from your boss.” She grinned and ran her hand up my thigh, pausing to squeeze my cock.
I found my voice.
“I don’t want to quit. Just tell me what to do and when to do it and I’ll be there.”
She leaned over and looked into my eyes.
“You really dig this, don’t you?” she said, and I nodded.
“Unbelievable,” she said, and shook her head. “I thought I’d have to blackmail you into being my permanent boy-toy, and here you love it!” She grinned again and leaned back in her seat.
“We’ll see,” she said. “We’ll see just how much you love it as time goes by.”
I didn’t like the tone in her voice, but I didn’t let it
worry me much. I just sank back into my
own seat and surrendered myself to my fantasies.
Over the next few months we fell into a routine. At the office we were the picture of decorum. I wrote code, she did deals. But at home and on the road, everything changed. I could always tell when she’d had a bad day at the office: My phone would ring shortly after 7 p.m. and within minutes I’d be on my knees in her bedroom, my head buried between her thighs.
She actually did understand that I needed to have an occasional orgasm, if only to protect my health, but she didn’t want it to happen at her place or when we were on the road together. “I’ll let you know when you can go back to your apartment and masturbate,” she said, “but don’t count on it being very often. And if I ever catch you fucking another woman, we’re history.”
Because she was such a well-known executive, she frequently
attended black-tie events in
Things went on this way for almost a year. Sometimes she wouldn’t call me for days on end, and wouldn’t even give me permission to masturbate. Total arousal. Nowhere to go with it. She knew that and did it on purpose.
But I really couldn’t complain. I was earning a lot of money, making love to one of the most beautiful women I could imagine, and not incidentally acquiring a reputation myself for superior software. Helene was generous in that regard at least. She didn’t try to take credit for my work -- although she did remind me that everything I did belonged to her since I did it in her employ. I couldn’t take it with me if I ever decided to leave.
Not that I wanted to. I couldn’t imagine being away from her for any lengthy period of time. I was totally in her thrall . . . and when she upped the ante again I didn’t hesitate.
“I want you to watch,” she said one night while she rode me to her third orgasm in an hour, her cunt sliding up and down my shaft as she hovered above me.
“Wh . .. wh . . . what do you mean?” I gasped, trying to hold onto my sanity as she drove down on me again.
“I’ve installed a hidden camera in my bedroom and a monitor in your living room,” she said once she’d shuddered to a stop. “From now on, whenever I bring a man back here, I want you to be sitting in your living room without any clothes on watching the monitor. I mean, it’s great having you show up after the fact and listen to my stories about the men I’m fucking, but it will be even better to have you watching. If I know you, that’ll just take your frustration up another notch and make you an even better lover for me.” She reached over and began squeezing my cock as she spoke and within seconds I was gasping for release.
It didn’t come.
That night I sat in my living room, naked, my cock rigid, and watched as she came into the bedroom with one of her CEO friends. It was clear she intended to please him, something she’d never done with me. She sat on the edge of the bed, making sure she was directly in front of the hidden camera, and began unbuckling his belt. His pants slid to the ground and she pulled his cock out of his briefs, began licking it. The camera caught her raven hair moving up and down as she sucked him for a long, long time. Somehow, he didn’t explode in her mouth, and when she moved her head away I could see his enormous cock, glistening from her juices. She pulled his briefs down, unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off, left him naked, then turned her back to him and bent over the bed, raising her dress above her waist. The camera displayed her naked ass, pointing upwards toward him. He moved forward and quickly, harshly, rammed his cock into her cunt! She lurched forward, but caught herself on the mattress, then held herself rigid as he banged in and out repeatedly.
He came quickly, but that wasn’t the end of the evening. Within moments she was kneeling on the floor sucking him again to make sure his cock wouldn’t diminish. Not long afterwards he pulled her to her feet, whirled her against the wall and rammed his cock into her cunt with a tremendous upward thrust. Helene rose almost a foot off the ground, then threw her legs around his thighs. They rocked there, back and forth, with him pounding into her as hard as he could. She came first and he wasn’t far behind.
When it was over, she pushed him away onto the bed and stared down at him, then slowly unbuttoned her blouse and took it off. Her skirt fell to the floor and her breasts sprang free when she unhooked her bra. Last were her panties, and the camera caught the full glory of her pussy as she crawled onto the bed and straddled him.
For the next half hour she was all over him, sucking on his nipples, playing with his balls, kissing him, rubbing her breasts on his face, sliding her cunt over his slowly recovering cock.
When he was ready, she let him turn her onto her back, raise her legs and enter her once again. It took him a long time to cum this time, but the camera followed every movement, and when he finally exploded, she looked directly at the camera throughout his orgasm, staring at me before erupting herself.
He left soon afterwards, and she looked at the camera again, waiting. I was in her room two minutes later – and she spent the next two hours fucking me, having one orgasm after another. “What does it feel like, Donald?” she asked, moving seductively on the bed. “What does it feel like to watch another man fuck me, watch him get off, and know you’re never going to have that experience? What’s it like knowing I can fuck anybody I want and you can’t have anybody but me?” By that time I was trapped between her thighs, licking her cunt, and she was playing with my cock as she teased me with her words. I nearly blacked out, but, once again, she sensed my point of no return and released me.
By morning I’d fucked her four times. She finally fell asleep, but the last thing she did was grip my straining cock, stare into my eyes and smile. “You’re mine, Donald,” she whispered, kissing me lightly on the lips. “You’re mine.”
Then she shooed me away and I headed back downstairs.
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