I don't know why I am so lucky with women named Susan coming to my door and begging for sex. It just seems to happen. I've already written about Susan J and Susan M.

This time, the willing participant was Susan McG. And the night we had together was unforgettable. 

I was working at a large advertising agency in Dallas at the time. I had just been promoted to Account Supervisor, handling several major accounts into a large national jewelry store chain. I had four account executives and two assistants ae's on my team, reporting to me. In turn, I reported to our VP, Management Supervisor. We all worked together in a "pod" with two secretaries in the bullpen. The rest of us had private offices. 

Before I got promoted, I was just one of the account executives, and I shared Marsha as our secretary. Marsha was amazingly competent and she had taken me under her wing, helping me get to the point where I was promoted. But Marsha was pretty rough around the edges. She was an older woman, who swore like a sailor (more about that in a bit) and lived in a trailer park with her redneck husband, and she smoked like a chimney. Still, I loved working with her.

When I got promoted, my boss (the VP, Management Supervisor) told me that Marsha would no longer be my secretary. Instead, I would work with Susan McG, who also worked for him. I was upset at first because I thought so highly of Marsha, but Pat (my boss) assured me that Susan would be best for me in the long term.

Susan was a lot different. She was young and more polished and also very smart. Susan wasn't actually a great looker. She was kind of mousy in the face, with dirty blonde shoulder-length hair and wide hips and small breasts. I preferred my women to be bustier for sure. But Susan did have a certain quiet seductiveness about her, and I had always wondered what she would think if I just came up behind her, bent her over her desk from behind, and took her doggie style. I kind of thought she would like it.

I wasn't the only one who reacted negatively to the change to make Susan my secretary. Marsha was devastated. She was left supporting all the lower-ranked team, while Susan was reserved for just Pat and me. When told of the news, Marsha began crying at her desk. One of the Account Executives, a very nice young guy named Henry came out and tried to comfort her. 

"What's wrong Marsha?" Henry asked

"I just got fucked in the ass without vaseline," was Marsha's reply. Like I said, she was pretty rough around the edges. 

Despite Marsha's protestations, the change went ahead and business went on like usual. Susan was very good and very attentive to me, and I came to realize that Pat had been right about her. 

Around the same time, I started getting anonymous cards left on my desk - usually about one a week. They said things like: "I'm really just a chicken", or "I haven't worked up the nerve yet." They were unsigned but I thought I recognized the handwriting on the envelope as Susan's. I assumed she had a crush on me, as secretaries sometimes do for their bosses. 

We even went out once together - sort of. It was actually a professional thing. Our jewelry client was sponsoring the local Virginia Slims tennis tournament and the agency had some things to do at the event as part of the sponsorship. So I dragged Susan along. I knew she liked tennis, plus I needed her to help out. Once the "work part" was done, we got to watch the night's feature match, which involved the legendary Martina Navritalova (who incidentally had just recently come out as a lesbian, which was a big deal in those days).

Susan and I had a nice time together, especially as I kept her laughing by threatening to shout out (from our courtside seats: "Martina is a dyke!" It was our little joke. 

The evening ended and I think we had even gone in separate cars, so nothing happened afterward, even though I noticed Susan was sitting VERY close to my seat, close enough for our hips and thighs to touch.

Back at work, the cards kept coming but I was pretty busy and I couldn't quite be sure that Susan was the author. Truthfully, there were some other slutty women at the Agency who I would have preferred to be behind them. In those days, "account guys" (or "suits" as we were called), were big shots. We had a job everyone wanted and lots of girls wanted to fuck us just because of our positions. 

As it turned out, not long afterward I hosted a small gathering at my house. It was Friday night and it was a kind of happy hour, early in the evening before people went on to other activities. There weren't too many people, maybe twelve or fifteen. Being in the ad business we were all drinking heavily and feeling no pain. 

Susan was there, wearing a long, wraparound skirt that looked pretty hot. One of the other women there was a female copywriter named Marty. Marty had enormous tits, but a rough face and I could never quite figure her out. I thought she might be gay, or at least bi-sexual. So even though I lusted after her breasts and wanted to titty-fuck her, I never made a move.

That night, Susan and Marty were chummy and Marty - being quite a bit older - was sort of serving as Susan's "wing-woman" (if there is such a thing). Susan must have been telling Marty that her social life sucked because, as the gathering was starting to break up, I heard Marty loudly announce "Just stick with me Susan, I'll get you laid in a second."

I think Marty was trying to bolster Susan's ego (like I said, Susan was a bit mousy looking and quiet and shy, so she probably wasn't going out much). But Marty's comment spurred me to blurt out an even better rejoinder: "Yeah, you sure could. Just leave!"

Everybody laughed at the implication of my joke . . . "yeah Marty, just get out of the way and let Henry fuck Susan here tonight." Of course, Marty was less amused and she brushed off the comment. I thought however that I'd seen Susan blush - first at Marty's comment and then at my comeback. 

Well, soon everybody was gone. I started to clean up the place (there were bottles everywhere), but I was tired from a long stressful week and drunk and didn't feel like going out afterwards.

It was probably an hour later when the doorbell unexpectedly rang. I opened the front door and who was there but Susan McG - WITH NO Marty alongside thank god.

Susan was a bit tipsy, but she just strolled in, threw her purse on the couch, walked right up to me, and began passionately kissing me - our tongues flicking in each other's mouths. Susan was already moaning and she rubbed her front against me as we kissed.

Then Susan said something I never expected to hear from her shy mouth, "I want you to fuck me tonight. I want you to fuck all my holes and fuck me all night, I want your cum. Make me your slut tonight. I've been waiting so long for this."

That was all the encouragement I needed. I turned Susan around, bent her over the living room couch, and lifted up her skirt to see she wasn't wearing any panties. I put my hand up to Susan's crotch and slit and found it sopping wet. I inserted my two fingers deep inside from behind, while I rimmed Susan's puckered asshole.

"Mmmmmm. That is just so good," she gasped. "Please keep fingering me and rimming me. I want to feel your tongue everywhere." Suddenly Susan shuddered, went rigid, and cried out, "I'm cummming, I'm cummming. Ahhhh. Ahhhh. Ahhhh." At the same time, a huge gush of pussy juice flowed out and soaked the living room carpet. Oh well, it needed a shampoo anyway from some of my other fuck sessions. (I liked to fuck my dates on the floor just inside the front door - but that's another story for another time.)

Once Susan calmed down a bit, I turned her back to face me and picked her up by her ample bottom, her legs around my waist, and carried her into the bedroom. At that point, we ripped our clothes off and I immediately dove into Susan's hairy pussy with my mouth.

"Ohhhhh. Eat my pussy. Eat me. Make my pussy cum," Susan practically cried out. "I am your slut tonight. I will do anything with you but please, please make me cum again with your tongue and fingers."

I worked Susan's wet pussy as she lay on her back on the bed and it wasn't long before the convulsions started again. "Cummming. Cummmming. Cummmming," she announced and then Susan shouted out"  "Ahhhhh, Ahhhh, Ahhhh," multiple times. I've never seen such a transformation from what I thought was a quiet mousy secretary to a dirty talking, nasty, loud, vocal slut. 

"It's my turn now," I announced. And I pushed Susan's plentiful thighs aside and slid my rock-hard cock right to the hilt in one hard thrust. 

"Unnnggghhh. Ohhhh, Fuck me hard," Susan begged.

I was happy to oblige. This wasn't love-making, it was hard fucking. I slammed into Susan over and over. Our pubic hairs were meeting I was going so deep. Susan's pussy was making sloshing sounds and she was moaning up a storm.

"Take it deep you slut," I commanded. "You've wanted this for a long time and now you are going to get it - and get it the way I want to give it to you - hard and fast."

"Yes. That's what I want. That's what I need. Keep pounding me."

"I want you to cum in my dirty cunt and watch it ooze out. Give me a creampie"

At that point, I couldn't hold out any longer and I exploded insider Susan's wet pussy.

"I'm cummming in your dirty pussy. I'm giving you my cum. Take it all. Take it you slut."

Over and over, the ropes flew out, spashing her walls and providing even more sloppy lubrication. Finally, I was done and my cum and pussy juice-coated cock slipped out, still semi-hard. 

"Clean me off slut," I ordered as I placed my cock in Susan's mouth. Taste my cum and your juices and swallow them all."

We were both panting hard. Finally my cock softened and Susan swallowed whatever she still had in her mouth. We collapsed together, basking in an incredible fuck. 

And the night wasn't nearly over.