Hey hey hey, how goes it you bunch of awesome perverts, hopeless romantics, total losers, happy boozers and jacuzzi users...

Here's the deal. The gist as it were. A little background to get everyone up to speed. Let's call me Carol. I like Carol. It reminds me of Christmas which I love and since its early December, it fits perfectly. I'm a five-ten, twenty-nine-year-old, redhead with a good figure, big tits, and a take no shit attitude, which isn't as bad as it sounds and is probably the main reason I've got to where I am today in this crapshoot they call life.

And where I am right now is head of finance at big city brokers, Morgan Credit Inc. How I got here is a long story, but to cut that long story real short let's just say I've jerked, fondled, sucked, blown, swallowed, and fucked more cock than I care to remember, and that doesn't include the amount of pussy I've gone down on to climb out of the gutter and up the career and social ladder.

You're either on the rollercoaster or not. Me, I'm a walking, talking, busty fuck toy who knows exactly how to use my assets to their best advantage. Look at me now. I'm Queen fucking Bee in a company full of crotch a-holes and I am not ashamed to admit I've slept with a decent percentage of them in my time here. 

What can I say? I love a decent length of cock. Both up the caboose and garbage chute. Hell, I even let the kinky ones slap, swat, spank, belt, strap, cane, and whip my butt if it meant I got a promotion or a raise out of it. And that's just your regular bread and butter shit. Don't get me started on the really pissy stuff. 

I look after number one. I did what I had to do to get where I wanted to go and now I'm here I'm going to fuck shit up and do it my way. Nothing ventured nothing gained. Who dares fucking wins. This bitch has been there and done it all. Now I'm in charge and what I say goes. Bring it fucking on.

No wonder they call me Medusa.

But despite everything. Despite all of the fucking around and other shit I've gone through, nobody has managed to discover the one thing that really matters to me. The most important thing of all. Finding the key to the lock. The key which opens the door to my heart.

Which, to be brutally honest, sucks major donkey dick.

***

Nineteen-year-old Kenny from Procurement was a little pocket rocket.

We were in his apartment. In his bed. Fucking like bunnies after a night out on the town drinking and dancing which was just as pathetic as it sounds. But, hey, what's a cock hungry girl supposed to do to get her dick fix?

Procurement was hanging on real tight as I rode his average Joe like a pro. High ho fucking Silver and all that. I was facing away from him so he had a faceful of my fat ass that was slapping up and down on his crotch doing the locomotion. I glanced over my shoulder and saw he was red-faced and blowing hard.

"Don't you fucking come, dude," I warned him as I ground my clit against his pelvic bone. I was nowhere near ready to pop as I started to bounce up and down his stiff pecker faster and harder searching for the magic button.

Kenny was having a crisis. "But Miss. Peterson," he gasped as I forced my hungry puss-puss down his average-sized noodle. "Shoot, I don't think I can hold it in much longer, I really don't!"

Oh, for Chrissakes. Give me a fucking break. As soon as he said it, I knew he was about to blow so like the good bad girl I am, I hopped off his dick, flipped around so that I was between his spread thighs and grabbed his throbbing penis.

He muttered a final "Oh Oh OH!" and I quickly dropped my mouth over his dick just as the spunk spurted from the purple head. Clamping my lips tight, I vacuum sucked the sperm out of each ball until they were both empty and when I was satisfied I'd swallowed the lot, sat back licking my lips as I rolled his jizz around my tongue savoring its bittersweet taste.

Not bad. Not bad at all. Pity there wasn't much of it but a girl can't have everything I guess.

My one night stand lay spread-eagled on his bed as I grabbed my short black dress and matching French panties as I bounced around his bedroom in just my black stockings and suspenders wondering where the fuck I had left my heels. Once I was dressed, I did a quick run to the bathroom to check my face before heading for the escape hatch grabbing my bag on the way.

Post ejaculate Kenny raised his dopey head. "Was," he blurted out. "Was I any good?"

Aw. You adorable little sherbert. "Sweetie," I said as I opened his front door to leave. "You were in and out before I could find out. Say hi to the guys in PD for me!"

And with that, I was outta there as fast as my legs could carry me as I heard him shout "Can we do this again?!" which made me laugh. I always love an optimist. They are so damned cute. There was more chance of me banging the Pope than enjoying the fruits of young Kenneth Sanders loins again. Still, he was another one off my list. Just another notch to add to the old bedpost at ground zero. At the rate I was going through the phallic delights of Morgan Credit Inc, I was going to need a bigger fucking bed real soon.

As the doors to the elevator closed, I wondered which lucky sonofabitch would be next?

***

Through my twenty-fifth-floor office window, the first snow of winter began to fall silently across the city far below.

The view was spectacular and I loved nothing more than to stand there looking out knowing that I'd pretty much achieved what I set out to do all those years ago when I was barely able to live from day to day with hardly a dime to my name. The twenty-fifth floor was as high as this tree would grow and whatever the future held, I had done it my own way.

There was a light tap on the door and an older woman entered carrying a tray with a pot of coffee and a plate full of goodies on it.

"Babette," I groaned. "You're going to get me fat and miserable."

My secretary laughed. "Those are for me," she said as she put our mid-morning snacks on the desk in front of me. "Yours is the yogurt. Strawberry or banana?"

We both sat down as she poured the coffee. Babette was old school. Nearly fifty, I had known her a long ass time from our probation days. Babette was my confidant. A mother substitute and my own personal confession booth. A none judgemental friend whom I loved dearly and whose advice always made sense even if I didn't always agree with it.

I grabbed a banana and spoon as she sat back in her chair nibbling on a cream bun. The woman was just so very French in both her attitude, manner, and outlook on life in the big A. But even she wasn't immune to the simple pleasures of office gossip and I could tell she was just bursting to ask me about my latest adventure.

"He had the funkiest tasting spunk."

Babette gasped and burst out laughing. "You are terrible," she scolded as she used her tongue to scoop away the cream around her mouth. "Such language and when I'm eating too!"

"Sorry," I blushed. "But you're the one who wants to know every last detail about my love life."

"Love life?" she shot back. "Cherie, you don't have a love life. What you have is a lot of sex with a lot of different people. You have more sex in one week than I have had in the last ten years!"

"Maybe you should talk to Mr. Walker about that," I offered innocently. "I hear he's got his eye on you. I can have a word if you like."

Babette waved a finger at me. "You will very much do no such thing or else I shall be very cross!" she scolded me. "Besides, if anything was going to happen it would of done so by now. And at my age.."

"You're only fifty for God's sake," I laughed. "You make yourself sound like an old maid. What you need is a good fuck. That will sort you out. Nothing like a poke to blow away the cobwebs."

The older woman just rolled her eyes and waved a dismissive hand at me. "There is more to life than just a roll in the hay!"

"You mean a fuck."

Babette picked up another cream bun and took a bite out of. "A fuck then!" she mumbled knowing how much I liked to tease and shock her with my fuckabulary. After a pause "Well?" she asked.

I shrugged. "It was okay, I guess," I admitted. "We had fun."

Babette stared at me and made a face. "And?"

"He's a needle dick," I sighed. "I've seen poodles fuck longer."

"The poor little thing," she commiserated. "Did you eat him alive?"

I smiled. "Not quite. But like I said, funky tasting spunk!"

"Well," Babette said brightly. "At least your date wasn't a complete disaster."

Yeah. You could say that as we both laughed at the absurdity of it all before the grim reality of my superficial existence said hello as it always did.

"Mon Amie," said Babette as she saw the shadow fall across my face. I gave her a wistful smile and got to my feet feeling hollow and empty inside despite my bullshit bravado.

Staring out of the window, I felt that dull ache in my chest as if there was something missing inside of me. That I was somehow incomplete despite everything and that I would never be truly happy until I found it.

Babette came to stand behind me. The woman could read me like a book and knew when to keep quiet and when to say something.

"My grand-mere always used to say that there is someone for everyone and it was only a matter of time before that special one comes along," She put a hand on my shoulder. "You only have to keep looking, my dearest friend. It may not be today. Or Tomorrow. Or even next week, month or year. But you have to keep looking despite wanting to give up. You will know in your heart when you meet him."

I reached up to pat her hand. "Or her."

Babette laughed. "Or her."

Outside the snow began to fall harder.

***

A couple of days later.

The door opened and in walked my Secretary to find me slumped across my desk, head in hands, hidden under a red veil of my unkempt hair.

Concerned, she sat down opposite me. "What happened?" she asked. "Are you alright?"

I didn't move but mumbled, "........... asshole."

Babette frowned and shook her head. "What?"

Reaching across my desk, I pushed the tablet towards her. "My crapola. Our German client electrocuted my asshole and it's driving me nuts." To prove my point, I eased up and handed her the rubber ring I had been sitting on.

She looked at the tablet and then at me. She pointed to the screen. "She used this on you?"

I groaned loudly with my head resting on my folded arms.

"Oh mon Dieu!" she gasped wide-eyed as she read the promo out loud which made the whole thing much more pathetically embarrassing and fucked up than it already was. "The Penetrator XL Strap On special edition dildo with additional accessories including the Vibro electro head for girls who like to go that extra shocking mile. The most intense orgasms guaranteed. Batteries not included. Made in China."

Yeah. Who knew Germans were into some heavy-duty BDSM torture shit. The woman had me barking like a dog by the time she was finished with me. Look, seriously, I've had bigger things up there but Jesus. H. Christ on a bike, when she turned that thing on I nearly hit the fucking roof in shock. "Surprise!" she had yelled. Surprise? Too fucking right it was a surprise. Deep-fried asshole is a helluva thing. I'll scream my apartment down when I have to poop.

"She seemed quite nice when I booked the appointment and made the reservation for your meal together," mused Babette. "Did she sign the contract?"

I grabbed the brown envelope from the out tray and waved it at her.

Holy fucking shit balls. The things I do for this fucking company.

***

Babette looked at the pot of cold cream she was holding.

"You want me to rub this on your papoose?" she asked.

We were in my office bathroom - one of the perks of my position -  as I slipped out of my panties and bunched my black skirt around my waist before bending right over and grabbing the toilet seat.

"Not on," I told her. "Up. You need to get right up deep inside. Use your fingers, Babs."

"Oh!" she gasped as she switched on the light. "Are those welts and bruises?"

Oh boy, I had forgotten about that. My asshole was so sore the pain from my spank strapping had pretty much faded away despite how nasty it looked. I don't mind being spanked at all. Sometimes you just need an extra slap to get over the line and, for me, getting my ass beat is a sure-fire way to do that. Besides, spanking is one of those trigger words. The type of word you rarely hear in polite company. "SPANKING" I just love the way it sounds. "You've been a bad girl and now I'm going to give you a hard ass spanking!" pushes all the right buttons.

"I know, I know," I winced as she prodded my buttcheeks. "I thought she was only going to swat me a few times but she went full metal jacket with this fucking leather strap she had. All things considered, I thought I took it pretty well."

"The company should pay you danger money," she said as she dripped her fingers into the tub of slimy gloop.

"No shit," I grimaced as I felt her rubbing the cream around my bald ringpiece. "Ow!" I yelped as she eased a digit through my anal orifice and up inside my back passage. Bloody hell, that hurt as I wriggled my ass in her face as she knelt between my spread legs.

"Deeper?" Babette asked.

I nodded. "Yeah, yeah," I sighed as I glanced over my shoulder. "Stick another one in and move them around a bit. OOOoo uh-huh, just like that. Geez, that feels so good."

Reaching back, I grabbed an ass cheek in each hand and pulled them apart to make it easier and I let out a loud groan as I felt her push real hard so that she was inside my butt right up to the knuckles. Heck, if she pushed her fingers in and out a few times I'd probably get off real quick and squirt. Maybe I could ask her and see what she...

It was then we both realized the bathroom door was wide open.

"Uh, ahem," said a voice. "I uh, I'm ah. Excuse me?"

We both turned to see someone standing in the doorway staring at us as I stood there bent over holding my ass apart with my Secretary kneeling behind me with two of her fingers stuck up my bum.

Uh. Okay.

The dude looked from my impaled rear to my blushing face and our eyes met. For all the world, he looked like a nerdier version of Clark Kent. Slick backed hair, the spectacles, tweed jacket, shirt and tie, tan chinos, the works. For once, I couldn't think of a thing to say and Babette looked like she wanted the ground to open up and swallow her whole.

He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "Sorry, I'm ah, new," he stuttered. "Library sent me. From the tenth floor. Something about files and records. I really did knock. Yeah, I knocked. Honest," He started to back away. "Maybe I should come back later. Good idea. Bye!"

And with that, he disappeared.

Babette let out a squeak and yanked her fingers out of my anus which made me yelp in pain as I twisted around to sit on the toilet seat which made me yell even louder. 

Oh my God. That was the most embarrassing thing ever. Holy shit.

Who the fuck was that guy?

My life would be a tragedy if it wasn't a comedy.

~~~~

End.
Look out for Medusa part 2.