Manager Sex Stories Novels & Stories

“I’ve missed you. We don’t have to pretend anymore. She’s gone. We can finally-” “Don’t.” The word scraped out of me. I wanted to shove her off, slam her against the wall, make her disappear the way Aurelia had. But I held back. That rock my father had dropped on me years ago- the affair, the marriage he’d forced on me to clean up his mess- still pinned me in place. One wrong move and everything could crumble. ” Aisha, leave. “ I warned but Aisha didn’t listen. She never did. She leaned in closer, arms sliding around my neck. She pressed her breasts against my chest as she straddled my lap and her lips ghosted my ear.

He pulled out at the last second and painted thick ropes of cum across my lower back and ass. Marcus followed seconds later, flooding my mouth and holding me there until I swallowed every drop. They switched again. Daniel took my ass. Tyler claimed my pussy. Marcus recovered enough to use my mouth a second time. My father-in-law simply watched for a while, stroking himself back to hardness, eyes dark with satisfaction. “My son married a whore,” he said quietly, almost fondly. “Lucky for us.” I lost count of how many times they came. I lost count of how many times I came.

His thick, veiny cock, easily eight inches and glistening with her juices, slammed into her soaked pussy over and over with loud, wet slapping sounds. “Fuck… your cock is so much bigger than my ex-husband’s,” Mom moaned shamelessly, pushing her ass back to meet every thrust. “Stretch my slutty cunt… ruin it!” The man growled, gripping her hips hard enough to leave marks, and slammed into her even deeper. “That’s it, you dirty MILF whore. Take every inch. Your pussy is gripping me so fucking tight.”

I can hear some more shuffling and then he was telling me, "Yes, mistress, I'm naked." Mistress? I sighed internally. You seriously wouldn't believe how many men were into the whole dominatrix kink. In the beginning, it was kind of fun but by now it was getting pretty old. Mentally awakening my inner dom, I relaxed further into the sofa and flipped through the magazine."Good boy," I cooed, finding a 20 sex tips for women article. Huh, how fitting. "Now, here's what I want you to do, and you better listen closely, pet."

“Better than those dirty stories you write in your diary?” I winked at her and saw the coldness in her countenance. “I only write, I have never really experienced them.” “What do you write about then? Your fantasies?” “Even better…I write about how I fanstasize other people having sex.” I was dumbfounded. “Oh my goodness, that is the horniest thing I have ever heard.”

“If my agency fails, you better have a job ready for me in your company.” “Come on, stop working and get married. We’re getting older and less attractive, so it’s better to get married while we’re still good-looking,” I commented, tapping my chin. “Ugh, men are worthless these days. They don’t need beauty anymore; they just want money. As long as I have money, I’ll have boy toys,” Manager Kim bragged, and we both burst out laughing. We laughed together while sipping our favorite coffee. “Isn’t that Gabrielle?” Manager Kim pointed at the man talking at the next table.

"I am! I don't want you to leave! Never leave me!" The sex was more aggressive than the night before, fueled by the risk of the setting and the lingering tension of the morning. Marcus wasn't just comforting her anymore; he was claiming her. He reached up, grabbing her breasts and pulling her toward him, his mouth finding hers in a bruising kiss. Their tongues clashed, the exchange of saliva wet and messy, their breaths mingling in a frantic struggle for air. "You're my little secret, aren't you?" he whispered against her lips, his voice dripping with a dark, possessive heat. "My beautiful, dirty little secret."

Mark’s arm was right on my shoulder when I walked out of the rest room. He was my manager, a man in his mid-forties whose excuse for pushing most of his sex client to me was; “I’ve lost my juice, sonny. My waist doesn’t move like it used to, the ladies need more energy, you get me?” That was obviously a lie. Mark fucked only the richer women, those whose husbands were too busy with the political issues of the states to pay them any attention. He had an upper room just for them. He pushed the less rich women to me…and most of the men.

We promised to meet online the next evening (his wife worked 12-hour shifts at the local hospital in the evenings from 7:00 pm, so he had all the time in the world to chat). As soon as I could, I rushed home from work, grabbed a snack, and went online to read his stories. He had 17 posted stories about man-to-man sex, and I found myself so aroused I jacked off three times as I read them. At 7:30, a message popped up on my screen: “lovingman” is calling.

The idea in her mind seemed brilliant, and how not to be, having sex for money to get someone to leave her pregnant doesn’t require a lot of effort, but reality lashed her with real whips that made her wake up to the truth of the case. A couple of minutes past and May took several drinks to gather her courage. At that moment, a fat and sweaty man approached her, he seemed to have recently left an office job, and the look on his drunk face revealed that he had been drinking for a long time. He didn’t look very elegant, but the man’s status was irrelevant to May, who in her mind had a clear goal “Are you looking for action?”