The Boss’ Trophy Wife part 1

The Boss’ Trophy Wife part 1

First of all, let me say that as a 64 year old man, I feel fortunate, even ecstatic, to be able to say this is a true story. It really happened… it really fuckin’ happened.

As a teenager, I had learned that the quickest way to interest a girl into turning loose of some pussy was to joke around a little, get her to smile, look into her eyes and just ask… if it didn’t work on one, there was always another. Did I mention that I dearly love to fuck? So much pussy, and I decided very early that I was going to get all I could.

Several years ago, after being able to retire at a relative early age, I began taking on a few part time jobs, just to stay busy and enjoy being around other people. Volunteer firefighter, janitor at the local school system, carpenter, small time rancher and, of course, writing.

From the age of 18 until age 50, I worked a physically demanding job, and I was still in pretty damn good shape. 5’9” and 190 lbs, not a ‘hunk’ by any means, but strong and fairly smart.

On occasion, the distance from home and job (40 miles) would afford me an excuse to sneak some time into another woman’s panties. (Lotsa traffic in St. Louis) Sometimes, my work took me to other exotic places, like Detroit, Cleveland, Chicago and a couple others. There was always some woman looking to have the same fun, away from her husband, as I was looking for… away from my wife.

Also, when my wife would stay with her grandma for a week or so, there were neighbors. Tina, the divorced Italian across the street, or Frieda, the Texan next door whose husband worked nights. Both of them were so easy, I’d only have to pick up the phone and say, “You ready?”

Over those years, I probably had sex many times with eighteen or twenty different women… then I retired.

I had so much energy for the first two or three years, I went crazy hunting snatch. My poor wife was getting filled in her cunt and mouth daily, (she wasn’t into ass fucking) and I still had to have more… enter the volunteer firefighting

You need to remember, most volunteers have full time jobs. Being retired, I was available for nearly all the daytime calls. If I were 18 again, firefighting would be my chosen profession. There’s always a rush, whether it’s a big fire or a small one. Yep, there were women volunteers, too. Over the ten years I was with the VFD, I fucked three firefighters/EMT’s (all female), three of their wives and two daughters (both still in high school) Of those eight, only one wanted me to split with my wife and leave town with her. I really hated to turn her down because she had fantastic pussy (plus she needed to finish her senior year)… then there’s the janitor’s job.

I’ll make this part short. Three sex hungry teachers, all single and not so attractive. Fine pussy on all of them, though. Then there was Mr. Ball, the jr. high science teacher. I caught him jacking off, peeking into the boy’s dressing room from a janitor’s closet. To keep my mouth shut, he offered me a weekly blow job and I took that offer, too… then there’s the carpenter work.

It seemed like there was never a husband at home when my partner, Louie, and I went to a home to install new cabinets. The little woman of the house always had to be in the kitchen, supervising. I mashed many fingernails several times during those two years because I was looking up the leg of some woman’s loose shorts, or at a camel toe inside some tight ones. Twice I did it on purpose so I could get the woman alone in the bathroom, looking for a Band-Aid. Simple comments like “You know why I hit my thumb? It’s simple. I was distracted when I looked up the leg of your shorts. Nice, ma’am. Very nice.” About three out of five times, I’d get an invitation to come back later to ‘re-check our work’. On two occasions, Louie and I both returned. His cock was a monster and one of the housewives is still fucking him, ten years later… enter ranch life.

Most of the ‘on the side’ pussy I got while we lived on the ranch was from relatives.. actually, my wife’s relatives. It was always easy to get someone in the old pickup when I’d say, “Who wants to go check on the horses? (or cows, or goats) Invariably, some of the stock would be breeding. There, again, plain and simple comments like “If I were hung like that horse, I’d be pumping everything I could find, including you, young lady.” In addition to my wife’s aunt (four years older than me, but appreciated being called ‘young lady’….DAMN! How she appreciated it!), there was her daughter (scared but willing) my sister-in-law(still hanging cock in her when we can) and a neighbor who voluntarily, and frequently came by to help check on the horses. My wife knew what was going on, but didn’t care, she was past menopause and her sex drive was pretty much nil. She passed away right after we sold out to a bigger ranch… enter writing..

It’s always been my opinion that ANYBODY can write about things they love. Some do a better job than others, but anybody’s mind can remember details about their kids first ball game, IF they’re passionate about that kid’s sports activity. They can remember their wedding day, vacations with friends, the tragedy of losing a loved one, or millions of other scenarios. If you can remember it, or if you can IMAGINE it, you can write it. What’s amazing to me is how many people (women especially) seem to be awestruck by knowing a published author. Eventually, one of them will ask, quietly, “Does your book have any dirty sex scenes in it?” I always reply that I write things I’m familiar with and I’d need something I could relate to, before I could write about dirty sex. In the three years since my first book, I’ve found four who like ‘teaching’ me about dirty sex. 1023
words later, the story about my best ‘dirty sex’ teacher begins…. The Boss’ Trophy Wife.

The Boss’ Trophy Wife part 1

The local truck stop (Jake, the independent owner, likes to call it a ‘truck plaza’) has sixteen pumps, a large convenience store with a cafe (four employees on each shift), ‘sleeping’ rooms for the truckers and any whore (male or female) they can find, and a small casino in the back with sixty machines. Jake readily admits that he makes more money off those machines than fuel, and he sells a lot of fucking fuel.

About the second or third time I was in the casino, I caught my first glimpse of Joy. My first thought was to hit on her, then I realized she was Jake’s wife. ‘Late thirties or early forties’, I thought, ‘that old millionaire found himself a young trophy. He’s so fat, she must have to do all the work. The snooty little bitch could work my dick over anytime she wants, though’.

As I got to know Joy a little better, it was easy to figure that first impressions can be wrong, very wrong. She was friendly to all the customers, and quickly told rowdy or foul mouthed truckers to hit the road, “Any more of that crap and I’ll have the fucking cops here in three minutes, asshole.” I heard that exact comment every couple of days. She didn’t hesitate to run someone off for slapping the buttons, or jerking the arm down, too hard on the slot machines, either.

Joy was quick to help newcomers learn how to play a certain machine, and knew how to take care of most technical issues. No bigger than she is, she can still swing one of them away from the wall, reset the program, clear the bill acceptor or fix a hopper jam. I just always enjoyed watching her cute little ass bending down, or climbing onto one of the machines…. and I’d always let her know by stopping my own game and watching her with a smile.

I’ll never forget our first ‘flirty’ exchange.

She had just fixed a hopper jam (the box which accumulates the dollar bills) and was walking back to her desk when I spoke up, “Nice jeans, Joy, are they the new ‘stretchy’ stuff?” She knew I was talking about how nice her ass fit in them. She just slapped me on the shoulder as she went by and called me a pervert… with a smile.

Similar things went on for a couple of months, she’d walk by while I was concentrating on a ‘bonus round’ and stick a wet finger in my ear. I’d catch her bent over and tell her, “I’d love to take a picture of that, but I don’t have a wide angle lens.” The resulting comment was usually, “Pervert!”. When I asked why she and her first husband split, she told me that she’d cheated on him… “Hmmm, Nice to know,” I responded.

Jake, who incidentally inherited all his millions, spent most of his time in the cafe bragging about his new pickup, all his rent houses, his son’s finance company (it was Jake’s money being loaned at high interest rates) or about his missed opportunity to buy the Rams franchise. Very little truth passed through Jake’s lips, but there was always somebody who would sit, listen and act impressed.

Joy pretty much ran the casino, with three other women as her employees, two of which were even older than myself. The third, Mary, wasn’t too bad looking but one of her grown kids (at least one) were there most of the time. It probably wasn’t a bad idea though, she worked nights… when the creepies came out.

One morning I was in the middle of a bonus round on ‘Texas Tina’ when Joy plopped her cute little ass down in the chair next to me, “Shit! You don’t need a job, do you, Don?”

“Whut?”

“Betty just told me she’s going to have hip surgery. She’s probably going to move to Summersville with her son & his family. I’m going to need someone to take over at six a.m., five days a week. I pay $9.50 an hour.

“A perfect opportunity to put a serious hit on her,” I thought, “The worst that can happen is she’d tell Jake and he’d pay one of these truckers to kill me. Everybody dies sooner or later, here goes…”

“Oh… THAT kind of a job. For a minute there, I thought you offering me a blow job.” When she sat up a little straighter, with a funny look on her face, I said, “Hell, I’D pay YOU $9.50 an hour for that!”

There were only two more customers in the place and neither of them were sitting close. Joy leaned forward and told me, “See, I was right, you are a pervert. Cash this machine out when you get down to forty dollars and come to my office. We’re going to talk.”

I tapped on the office door before pushing it open. I nearly fell over when I saw Joy on her knees, licking her lips, naked and rubbing her snatch. “It took you long enough, I thought I was going to have to start without you.”

“Nice!,” I said, “We’ll both die if we get caught.”

However, my belt came loose and zipper dropped in the three seconds it took to say that.

“It’s okay, I told Betty we were going to have a discussion about you working here. Now, c’mon.”

My ‘half hard’ cock popped over the waistband as I dropped my boxers. Joy vacuumed it right into her mouth as I was still shuffling closer to her. I easily placed a hand on each side of her head and kneaded her hair and scalp as she worked her magic.

She took her mouth off long enough to tell me, “Be careful of the scars between my eyes and ears, they’re sensitive.”

My old dick swelled to full capacity. Joy’s mouth was well experienced, as I expected it would be. The great thing about it was being able to get all my dick in her small mouth. Most women I have had the same pleasure with had larger mouths. Joy took it all the way with NO sign of a gag reflex.

Looking down at the top of her head, as it bobbed up and down and made suction noises, not only could I see brown roots under the blonde hair, I spotted a little, grey line next to her scalp. I decided to wait about picking on her about that, my nuts were beginning to tighten.

Joy didn’t have to sense that I was going to cum soon, I told her. “Ohhh, you sexy little mother fucker! My God, woman, you’re driving me nuts! I’m gonna cummmmm…. ahhhhh… ahhhhh… ohhhhhhhh…”

As the hot load of sperm shot into her mouth and down her throat, her right hand went to her desk and pulled a tissue from the box. When she was satisfied that she emptied me, she looked up at me and licked her lips. Wiping her mouth with the tissue, she smiled and said, “$9.50 an hour and at least two blow jobs a week. If the right timing comes along, we’ll fuck, too… if you think you’d like this skinny little 59 year-old body.”

“You just hired your morning helper, lady. Will all that be written in a contract?”

“You don’t need a damn contract, just be here at six tomorrow morning to start training. Your turn, now…”

She sat on her desk and laid her slim body back. With the exception of her large nipples, you could hardly tell her chest from a man’s. But, there was no mistaking what was between her legs. With no hair, her pussy looked much younger than her 59 years…

WAIT! She DID say 59 years. I looked up from her cunt just long enough to ask, “What the fuck did you mean by ’59 years’?”

“EAT… That’s how old I am. I’ve had a lot of work done… Jake can afford it. That’s why… Ohh, yeah… right there. Mmmmm that feels so good. That’s why I told you to watch out for the scars on each side of my scalp. Facelift about seven months ago. Uhnngggg, yesss. So goooood..”

Joy must have been sex deprived for a while. I’ll swear she was cumming within two minutes.

I couldn’t help myself. My old dick was stiff enough to hit fly balls with, again. I stood, pulled her ass closer and jammed my cock in, hitting bottom on the first punch. She wasn’t tight, but she was damn good. As I began pumping really hard, Joy stopped me. She turned over and told me to, “Fuck my ass, Don. Fuck it as hard as you can.”

I learned 50 years ago NOT to deny a woman’s wishes when she’s giving you pussy…A few minutes later, my load emptied, again. At the time, I was sixty-two, but still, I managed two batches of hot juice in twenty minutes…. guess I must have been excited, too.

Joy grabbed more tissues for her leaking asshole and sat up, smiling, “Just one more thing…” She dropped back to her knees and took ol’ Fat Boy back into her mouth, shit slime and all. Her fingers slid in and out of her cunt as she cleaned me off.

“That’s the best I’ve had in a long time, Don. I don’t mind telling you, I’m looking forward to more and more. You ever piss in a woman’s face and mouth?

“Not on purpose… But not right now.” I zipped my pants up and reached for the door knob, “And to think you’ve been calling ME a pervert.”

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