When you are out of work you will take any job and put up with most things just to keep it. I do not like snobs and people who think they are a cut above everyone else, look down their noses at people believing they are of a lesser order than themselves. These people are usually shits, first class shits, and the Chief Executive of the bank was typical of this kind of animal; but he wanted a chauffeur and I wanted a job.

"I expect you to be at work on time and I want you to be there when I want you. When you are taking me anywhere make sure the car is spotlessly clean both inside and out. You always refer to me as 'Sir' and there will be no familiarity. You always wear a uniform during working hours. Keep it clean and smart and without exception you will polish your shoes until you can see your face in them. One last thing, there will be no smoking in the car. Now, have you any questions?"

"No Sir." Well, as I said, I needed the job.

Sir Alistair Mitchell, was used to being the boss. He expected people to jump when he entered a room and usually they did. He dressed immaculately. He looked wealthy and he was.

I would pick him up about 7:30am to drive him to the office. The one pleasure I got out of it was driving his Bentley, well apart from the other benefits and perks. I would park the Bentley in the underground car park and after making sure it remained spotlessly clean I would go into the little office, about as big as a broom cupboard, where there was a telephone just in case the boss wanted me. There was also a kettle so I could at least make myself a cup of tea.

Rogers was my name, never Stuart.

"Rogers, I need you to drive me to St. Albans. Rogers, bring the car around to the front entrance. Rogers, Rogers, Rogers. He never sat in the front seat, that would have been far beneath him and he might have felt obliged to talk to me.

Sometimes when he was going abroad I would drive him to Heathrow, help him with his baggage and, once the plane had taken off, I would drive back to the garage and until he got back. I could do much as I liked, and I did. If I used the Bentley I would have to make sure I didn't over use the petrol but there was latitude. What he didn't know about was the fucking that took place on the backseat of his precious Bentley. Well he hadn’t made a rule about that so I assumed it was just fine.

Chloe, the young office assistant was such a pretty little thing. She was blond and petite. She lost her virginity on the backseat right where Sir Alistair would sit issuing orders on his phone, often selling and buying shares as well. Little Chloe became a constant supply of cunt for me and believe me, at sixteen years of age she was a real beauty. She had the loveliest little twat, soft feminine arse cheeks and gorgeous thighs when they were spread out. I nearly felt guilty about forcing my cock between her tight pussy lips but I was able to quickly overcome that problem.

It was a wonder Mitchell never asked me what I was doing with a broad smirk on my face as he sat on the very spot where young Chloe's hymen had been popped.

She was young, impressionable and certainly not street wise. I shamelessly took full advantage my mature experience to get her virginity. I had the usually difficulties. She just wanted to kiss and go no further she wasn’t expecting me to move on her pussy. She resisted for what seemed ages before succumbing.

“Please don’t, don’t hurt me will you,” she moaned with my cock-end poised at the entrance to her tight pussy.

“I promise it won’t hurt my lovely,” I assured her, pressing gently against her little-hole feeling for the resistance of her hymen. She made one small yelp and her face grimaced but my cock was through and into her softness. Her cherry was gone and her young cunt was getting thrusted up by her first hard, solid, length of cock and soon she had her first cuntful of spunk on her cervix.

I have found that a man should always carry the morning-after-pill. She swallowed it with a swig from of my water bottle just to make sure I hadn’t popped her one.

I think Chloe was very giddy about her first-time and told her friend, Kathleen, who was Mitchell's secretary, and whenever I had to pick up papers from the offices to deliver them somewhere, I always got a wry knowing smile from Kathleen. I tried, on a few occasions, to chat her up but to no avail. I really wanted to know what she had under that skirt in that precious little place between her thighs. I would love to send her home to her husband well and truly spunked-up.

Kathleen was a married, very attractive redhead, always smartly dressed. She was class. Not class in the Alistair Mitchell sense of the word, she was just class in every sense of the word. She dressed class; she looked class, she walked class, she had to be class to hold down a job as Mitchell's secretary. She had the loveliest tits, with just the hint of nipple through her blouse. The cheeks of her arse moved rhythmically in her loose, black skirt as she floated effortlessly around the offices. The clickety click of her high heels made all the male heads turn. The seam of her black stockings seemed to point the way to delights the very thought of which made me drool and have mouth-watering thoughts.

One thing I had going for me was that Mitchell, with all his wealth and undoubted ability, will never have, is the simple fact that women are attracted to me. Why I don't really know what it is but they see something and I am not going to try to analyse it. I have never gone short of pussy and unlike lots of other men I don't do the chasing. That's what annoyed me about Kathleen, she wasn't interested in me and it made me want her all the more. I had to resist the impulse to chase her; that would be a sure way to make sure I never got it. She was a challenge no red-blooded male could resist.

Another of my duties was to drive the CEO and his family to their retreat, a log cabin hidden away in the woods and leafy glades of the Cotswolds. I had the keys and it was my job to go there a few days in advance and make sure it was clean and tidy, well stocked with food and wine and chopped-wood for the log fire. Sometimes, once the log fire was blazing, I would sit on the sofa and imagine I had Kathleen on the white sheepskin rug stretched in front of the hearth. As I visualized Kathleen with her knees wide apart I would unzip my fly and flip out my cock. It didn't take long to fill my handkerchief.

On such occasions I would return to pick up Mitchell and his wife, Janet, at their London home in Bayswater and sometimes his daughter, Lucinda, would come along when she wasn't at college. Janet seemed rather reserved, certainly in the presence of her husband, but Lucinda was a giggly, effervescent, fun-loving young woman about 19 years of age, though she actually looked younger. They all referred to me as Rogers though. No change there. All three sat in the back of the Bentley as well.

When the Mitchell's went on a family holiday to Tuscany, I talked Chloe into spending an evening at their house. We got in the Bentley and drove to the Bayswater mansion. We spent the night in the king-size marital bed, with her virginity long gone Chloe fucked like a veteran, totally uninhibited. Her long, flowing, blond hair splayed out over the soft, satin pillows, her legs stretched across the luxurious bedsheets while I drilled her for two solid hours. The little vixen had three orgasms for me, absolutely lovely. The next day I took her to the nearest chemist shop for the morning-after pill before driving her home and to take the heavily soiled bedsheets to the laundrette and then replaced them on the bed. I had to lay a towel on the bed after that. Chloe was a good girl and loved squirting all over the bed.

While at the mansion I couldn't help taking a look around the house before leaving. I stumbled across Lucinda's knickers drawer where, buried beneath a rich variety of thongs and panties of various colours, I found two vibrators, no wonder she is an effervescent fun-loving young girl, probably too late to get her virginity, that flower will have been picked already I thought.

I drove Chloe back to work, parked the car and spent a few hours cleaning the Bentley then wandered into the offices. Kathleen gave me that all-knowing look; what had Chloe been told her? I wondered.

"Where have you been all day?" She asked.

"I think you already know the answer to that." I replied. She laughed.

"It could be you, you know, all you have to do is loosen up a little," I continued half laughing, half serious.

"You wish."

"I certainly do, you'll never know how much I wish."

"Oh, I can imagine."

"If you only knew what I get to imagining, you'd be surprised."

"In your dreams!"

She was right, there; she was the most fuckable bit of crackling in the Home Counties as far as I was concerned.

Kathleen was married to Arnold who ran and operated his own courier business. They were, on the face of it, a happy couple but she had always wanted her independence and to pursue her own career. She was one of those very efficient secretaries with unswerving loyalty to Mitchell. Unfortunately for me she demonstrated the same loyalty to her husband.

A few weeks later I was sitting in the little pokey office I had in the underground car park when the phone rang. It was Kathleen.

"Sir Alistair wants you to go to his house and pick his daughter up and drive her across to Western-Super-Mare to meet her boyfriend. He wants you to spend the day there and bring her back in the evening."

Almost before the Bentley came to a halt outside the front door Lucinda skipped out and was sat in the front seat. She was wearing a short skirt, no stockings and thigh boots just over her knees. She didn't try to hide her thighs either. She was wearing a low cut blouse with the top two buttons undone and an ample amount of cleavage on display. I had a long drive in front of me with this young sexy girl for company and it was going to be difficult to ignore the numerous distractions she represented.

She was a beautiful girl, stunning blue eyes and long red hair which lapped over her shoulders and down towards her breasts which were young, smooth and firm looking. Her nipples stuck out like two missiles ready to be launched from there silos. Her thighs were long white and smooth. We talked about her college studies; she was studying law and finding it hard going. She knew her father would easily find her a post with one of the leading law firms once she had graduated.

Her boyfriend, she told me, was also a law student and that she had only been going out with him for two months.

I dropped her off at her boyfriend's house and went to a café for a meal and a coffee then killed time walking around Western-Super-Mare. I picked Lucinda up at around 7.00pm, she kissed her boyfriend and as I held the car door open she got into the car rather amateurishly and flashed her little, black thong that hardly covered her quim. I averted my eyes but thought lovely, very sweet.

We set off home and she never attempted to cover her thighs even though she was wearing a very short skirt. I kept my eyes firmly fixed on the road but it wasn't difficult to take a regular glance. Constantly she crossed and uncrossed her legs in exaggerated fashion letting her little skirt ride further up each time until her crotch was constantly on show. I knew what she was doing but she was the boss's daughter, one false move or suggestion from me and my job was gone. I had been there before with teenage girls; they give you the come on, like come and get it and then into panicked shock horror and yell, "What kind of a girl do you think I am?"

Lucinda asked me to pull off the main road; saying she needed to answer the call of nature. It was dark when I turned off at the first reasonable opportunity and found the nearest country lane and stopped the Bentley where there was a gap in the hedges. Lucinda got out of the car and didn't bother to disappear behind the hedges. She found an appropriate spot and in full view hitched up her skirt, crouched near the hedge, pulled her thong to one side and in the full glare of the headlights had a piss that seemed to last forever. I could see the stream of piss coming out of her pussy and making a little pool in the grass beneath her.

Up she got, pulled her thong into place like a hammock for her cunt, with the Bentley's headlights still on I could see she had a deliciously shaped and protruding pubic bone. She pulled her little skirt down and straightened it out then came back to the car and surprised me by climbing into the backseat.

"Rogers, are you going to fuck me or not?"

It sounded like the kind of instruction her father would give.

This was a chance too good to miss whether it cost me my job or not. I was going to fuck Sir Alistair's gorgeous young daughter on the backseat of his Bentley. I turned the headlights off and got into the back of the car. I unbuckled my belt and unzipped my fly and pulled my trousers and Jockeys down over my arse. Soon Lucinda was stretched out on the backseat; her thong was hanging on the steering wheel where I had tossed it. Her thighs were open and her head has hanging out of the car door with her long red-hair streaming towards the ground.

I opened her thighs as wide as I could in the cramped conditions and I rubbed my cockend along her sweet, little slit, spreading her young labia. I circled and massaged her clit with the hard tip of my knob-end until she was wailing for it..

"Fuck me Rogers, fuck me. Fuck me."

I slid my cock down to find the cute, little ring of her tight cunt-hole and extracted from her the longest groan I had ever heard from a woman as she took thick cock right up her young little cunt.

Now I reckoned, what with the pathetically low wages I got from her father, I was fully entitled to this fuck. What a delightful way to screw a young bit of pussy while her father paid me for doing it at time-and-a-half of the normal hourly rate.

There was no doubt that for Lucinda, feeling a man's hard shaft inside her, was therapeutic heaven. For the first fifty or so, unhurried thrusts, I gave it to her ever so slow and deliberate, enjoying the mounting ecstasy spreading across her face and her long intakes of breath. I didn't want to just fuck her I wanted her to enjoy the feel and thick texture of my cock, to be able to dwell on each length and savour each throb, each twitch and each pulse. I guessed that she would have been fucked by her young boyfriend, immature and inexperienced and I wanted her know what seasoned cock really felt like. I wanted to send such erotic feelings swirling around her brain cells. I wanted her to feel the intoxicating and rapturous feelings that a slow, length of thick cock can give a woman.

Her first orgasm was a revelation to me, it was a mixture of tormented rhapsody and spasmodic waves after which I banged her remorselessly, slamming her backwards and forwards, her head still hanging out of the car, her mouth open, gulping air until I felt hot cunt-fluid drench my balls.

I couldn't hold it and I wasn't going to pullout, I wanted to soak her young vagina. She told me later as we drove home that it was the first-time she had ever been spunked but she was on the pill and did not need the morning-after-pill. I told her to get one just in case.

“You have a load of serious sperm swimming around inside you searching for one of your eggs right now my pretty little popsy,” I told her. The last thing I wanted was her telling her “Daddy” that I had pregged her up.

She didn't stop talking about it all the way home. "Wasn't it wonderful? How was it for you? I thought it was great. I have never felt anything like it, I had an orgasm you know?" Of course she had an orgasm, three in fact, and I had to clean the backseat of the car, where she had emptied her cunt. I had to do it before I could go home.

I got her home and took the car back to the underground car park. I took the torch from the boot of the car and looked at the backseat; there were fuck stains all over the upholstery, female cunt-fluid and my thick, male, cock-porridge.

The next day I had to drive Mitchell all the way to Edinburgh. Although the stains of the fuck with his daughter had gone it was as if I could smell the richness of sex. I kept looking in the rear view mirror but Mitchell was dealing with business documents and making phone calls. He was totally unaware that less than 12 hours previously his daughter's little cunt had made a mess on the seat right where his arse was now plonked. His "Little Princess" as he often called her had been well fucked and cum-filled.

He didn't speak to me all the way to his meeting in Edinburgh or all the way back again. To be honest it made the journey better, I don't think I would have wanted any kind of conversation with him. I just enjoyed the gloating.

It was about a month after I had screwed Mitchell’s daughter that Kathleen asked me for a favour. One of the girls in the typing pool was getting married and needed to go to a shop in town to pick up her wedding dress at lunch time. Would I take her and wait to bring her back to the office afterwards? Her name was Emily - she was an absolute cracker and she was marrying one lucky guy - that’s sure.

We arrived at the shop and I dropped her off before parking the car nearby and walking back to the shop to wait for her. She went into a booth to try the dress on and emerged looking absolutely stunning and I told her so.

She returned to the booth and changed back into her other clothes. The white wedding dress was placed in a box and I carried it back to car. She was very excited about her dress and said she could not wait to wear it with everything else, her shoes, stockings etc, - the full Monty as it were. She said we still had plenty of time to get to her house where she could again try on the dress with all the trappings.

“We only have about an hour or you will late getting back to the office,” I warned.

“It doesn’t matter, Kathleen knows I am excited about this and has told me it does not matter if I take an extended lunch break,” Emily said.

I pulled up outside Emily’s house and told her I would wait in the car while she went and tried her dress on again.

“No, everyone is out, you can come in. I want your opinion anyway,” she said in a very excited voice. I had to laugh at how giddy she was over her wedding dress but I knew that all brides just need that special dress to be just right and she was obviously so happy with it.

We went into the house and I sat in an armchair while Emily went upstairs to change again into her wedding dress.

“Stuart,” she shouted.

“Yes.”

“Come up here and take a look, tell me what you think.”

I climbed the stairs and looked around wondering which room she was in.

“In here,” I heard her shout again and I went into the second bedroom on the landing.

“What do you think?” Emily giggled, doing a little twirl.

“What do I think? I think you look simple amazing, the most beautiful bride I have ever seen and I mean it,” I said, meaning every word.

“You can be the first to kiss me in my new wedding dress if you like Stuart,” she said, holding her arms out invitingly.

I stepped forward and kissed her on her cheek

“Oh come on you can do better than that Stuart,” she said looking me in the eye.

I again kissed her solidly on the lips thinking how I would love to be the first to fuck her in her new wedding dress never mind the first to kiss her.

We broke the kiss and looked at each other and our eyes locked for what seemed an age before I took her firmly in my arms and pulled her towards me, feeling her body yield against me and our lips again met in a much more passionate kiss.

I rolled Emily onto the bed and kissed her again reaching for her dress and pulling it up over her knees. Her breathing told me she wanted some cock up her whether she was wearing her new wedding dress or not.

Within seconds her pretty dress was gathered up over her silk panties and I unbuckled my belt and dropped my trousers and jockeys. I slid between her thighs feeling her white stockings and suspenders against my hips. I pulled the leg of her panties out of my way to get at her cunt. My cock was heaving into one almighty erection. I steered it up against her quim. She was succulently wet. I searched for her hole with my bullhead and rammed it right up her. I knew not her husband to be, I was sure he would be a very nice guy but right now as far as I was concerned, he could go fuck himself.

The sound of her wedding dress being pushed up and down on her stomach was beyond exotic. I punched her little twat with each thrust of my arse, occasionally slipping it out and sliding it up her crack and against her clit before punching cock right up her again.

Her legs were wrapped around me pulling me into her as she shouted “Fuck me, fuck me Stuart. I want to cum, make me cum.”

Frantically we fucked wildly, her little arse humping like a crazed bitch and her orgasm soaked my cock as I dragged her cunt petals backwards and forwards along my stiff shaft.

I felt the wicked sensations of my sperm swim into my cock. I felt I had every right to assume she was pregnancy-protected and without a second’s thought I spunked her up.

We laid there for a short while before she got off the bed and stripped her wedding clothes off giving me one amazing strip act to feast my eyes on.

Stripped off she looked supremely sexy and attractive as she went to pick up a pair of light-blue knickers from a bottom drawer She bent over with her back to me and I saw a trickle of my massive load find its way out of her crack stretching to the floor like a long icicle from between her cunt-lips.

“I hope you know I will have to wash my wedding panties now,” she said with a giggle as she wriggled into her knickers and got dressed.

I was still laid on the bed with my cock hanging limp and leaking the last remnants of my spunk.

“Do you want me to clean your cock?” Emily asked laughing naughtily.

“Be my guest,” I said, smiling widely, and she sucked me completely dry, swallowing the lot as I spunked another load into her mouth.

Emily was one sweet girl and a very kind girl where I was concerned. One week later she was married and entered a very happy and loving relationship with her husband. She had wanted one last fling before settling down. I was just the very lucky cat that got the cream.

A few weeks later I was taking Mitchell’s wife, Janet, on a shopping trip and although she sat in the backseat and called me Rogers, at least it was friendly and I was to find out that she was not all that reserved after all.

When we returned to the mansion I put the shopping down in the kitchen and turned to leave.

"Rogers, don't go yet." Janet said, sitting in the armchair holding one foot up in the air, "These boots are killing me, pull them off please."

I took the heel of the knee-length, white boot in my hands and started to slowly pull it off. Janet deliberately lifted her foot higher until I could see up between her thighs. I soon had her thighs apart enough to see her pink panties and the view got better when it came to removing the second boot.

“Is the view nice enough for you Rogers?” Janet asked spreading her thighs somewhat wider. The gusset of her panties was pulled up so tight into her crotch that her camel toe moulded into the delicate fabric.

“Come closer Rogers,” Janet sad, with a beaming smile on her face and I moved my legs between hers until she could reach my zip and pull it down

Her hand reached inside my trousers and whipped my cock out where she had a perfect view of it. Slowly her hand started to jerk me off.

“Come Rogers, shoot it for me, show me what your creamy cum looks like.”

Soon my trousers were down to my knees and she had one hand pulling my dick and the other cupping my balls with the slit at the end of my cock point directly at her face. I was about to give my bosses wife a full facial.

I could feel the ecstatic tingling cascading into the nerve ends of my thickening, purple cock-end. Janet's eyes widened as she saw my cock harden in her hand. By now I was thinking, if she wants to see my cock fire off its load she is about to get what she wants and see a display of cum-shooting as wild as any she will ever see.

"Come on, there’s a good boy, Rogers, shoot some jism for me," she said with a sense of excitement in her voice. My blue vein was getting thicker.

"Wank it faster, faster." I yelled knowing I was about to explode and fire off a load of cock sludge onto her pretty face.

I was grunting with the sheer eroticism of it all as a stream of my thick, white slush shot into Janet's hair and the next shot splashed onto her face. Janet took a handkerchief from her hand bag and wiped the spunk from her face.

“You dirty bastard,” she said, “Look what a mess you’ve made.”

Now married cunt has a fascination all of its own. Screwing another man’s wife gives a real sense of dominion over his property. It makes the interloper a conquistador, the bull, the Alpha male. I had Mitchell’s wife bubbling and I wanted to fuck her good.

“Come on Rogers I need you now!” Janet said lifting her legs higher so I could pull her panties off. I pushed her knees apart and stretched them over each arm of the armchair and got my first look at her wet minge. It was the cutest little thing that ever took cock.

Janet reached between her thighs with both hands and very invitingly pulled her cunt-lips apart. I could see into her hole. She needed it fucked and I obliged.

I spent the next hour deep inside Janet's pussy with her legs spread across the arms of that chair. I fucked to the exotic sounds of her yowls which reached a crescendo with each of her four orgasms. The last of which came with her on her knees in front of the fireplace while I drilled her from behind, slapping the cheeks of her arse like riding a donkey with my balls banging her clit. Finally I gave her what she really wanted most of all, a cuntful of jism. I swamped the rich, married bitch until her quim was overflowing.

In the weeks that followed I shagged Lucinda twice more before she returned to her studies. She had become an avid spunk addict. Sometimes she just wanted to wank me and watch me shoot a load for her, which I did with the utmost of pleasure, but mostly she wanted and got it where nature intended it.

Soon I was to see another wilder side of Janet. On one occasion, while Sir Alistair was away, she called me on the phone in my little box and asked me to pick her up and take her to do some shopping. I picked her up at the mansion and took her to some shops in the more down-market area of the town. I was shocked that Janet was readily shopping in that area. I offered to go with her but she said she wanted me to stay with the car.

About an hour later she returned with a big rugged looking brute of a man, very thick-set and muscles on his muscles. He had short-cropped ginger hair, his arms where covered in tattoos and he even had one on his face. He had a small ring pieced through one side of his nose. If she had gone looking for a bit of rough she had definitely found it. This uncouth bastard had a big broad smile on his face and was chewing gum as he crawled into the backseat alongside Janet

I thought she was going to take him to the mansion but she wanted to fuck this brute in the back of the Bentley. I was told where to go and pulled onto a small lane leading into a wood. I got out of the car and lit a cigarette while the Bentley rocked like an old Wild West stagecoach. From 20 yards away I could hear her painful squeals and thought the Bentley was going to be rocked off its wheels.

Once he had fucked her like a wild animal for over an hour I drove her home after dropping her bit of rough-stuff off in the middle of town. He looked at me, his big broad smile displaying a missing front tooth and the gum still in his mouth, “I’ve fucked the bitch legless make sure you see her home, OK Buddy," and he swaggered off into the nearest bar.

Janet looked utterly bedraggled. She did not ask me in, she had obviously had the fuck of a lifetime. She seemed to have difficulty keeping her feet as she walked to the house. She had better not let her husband see the bruises I was sure she would have all over her body. That guy was one big brute who had hammered her until she could hardly get out of the car let alone walk to the house.

Eight months later I was driving down the long country lane that meandered through the leafy wooded glades that was the approach to Mitchell's country retreat hideaway. It was a beautiful sunny Thursday morning. The Mitchell's were to spend the weekend at their country retreat and I was to get the place warmed through, stocked up with food and wine and carry out any minor maintenance that might be needed such as changing any light bulbs etc.

Apart from having stuffed Chloe's pretty little pussy on two occasions, by my standards the last six months had been sexually barren and I was really in need of some fresh pussy.

I did the jobs I had been asked to do and got the log fire going and undressed before stepping into the shower. I washed away the tiredness of the long day with a rich lather of expensive soap making sure my cock and balls received the lion's share of attention.

Stepping from the shower I wrapped myself in one of Mitchell's bathrobes just as there was a loud knock on the cabin door. Making sure I was well covered by the robe I opened the door. Stood before me was what I could only describe as a stunning vision of beauty. It was Kathleen.