"What's the big rush. What's so important. Here, sit down, you're shaking."

He walked to the bar and poured her a drink and handed it to her. He was dressed only in a silk robe and she could see his strong muscular, hairy legs as he crossed the room. The robe came apart slightly and she stared at his loose hung genitals as he sat down next to her on the couch.

She took a big gulp of her drink, cleared her throat and began to repeat the story as Al had told her.

"I don't know what they have already, but it doesn't look good and I thought that you might like to know."

"A young punk, eh?" he almost spit out. "Doesn't that just take the cake."

She just looked at him, not knowing whether she should say anything else, afraid of what he would say next.

"Well, love, I can't thank you enough. Looks like your daddy Conrad will have to have him cut down to size. I wonder who's been spilling the beans to him and how much he's paying for it."

He reached across the back of the couch and pulled her to him, his hand grabbing roughly at the warm, soft fullness of her breast. She fell against him weakly, opening her legs slightly so that he could reach under her skirt and begin to fondle the soft flesh of her inner thigh as his fingers searched for the elastic of her panties.

His robe had fallen completely apart and his massive organ was jutting up from between his legs like a long distended pole. Her eyes watched fascinated, as it jerked up and down as it grew more swollen with desire. She smiled to herself as she felt his fingers reach the juncture between her legs and begin to rub the tiny hardness of her clitoris.

"Take off your clothes," he whispered huskily. "I like to watch you while you undress, you're so beautiful."

Obediently she pulled herself away from his grip and slowly began to strut in front of him, unbuttoning her dress as she walked.