"Would you give me your sexual favors if it weren't part of the job?" he asked, his eyes glinting like a cat toying with a mouse.

"Well, yes," Sara said. How could she lie? He looked so good standing there it was all she could do to keep from dropping to her knees and gobbling that big cock into her throat! "But that's not the point…"

"What is the point, then?"

"It's just that you… seem so, well, cold. Like this afternoon. And now, you're different."

"What do you want? Flowers?" He walked over to a large vase filled with tiny pink rosebuds. He yanked them out and handed them to her. "Music?" He walked over and flipped on the stereo, filling the room with violin strains. "What did I leave out? Uh, candy? Sorry, don't have any. Stick around… I'll make you some fudge. What else?"

Sara didn't know whether to slap his face or laugh. She didn't have time, however, to do either. She was engulfed in his arms, her head pushed back as he covered her neck and shoulders with kisses. As the delicious surges of pleasure raced up and down her spine, she dropped the flowers and threw her arms around his neck, pulling him tighter to her body. His cock was throbbing against her belly – big, hard and meaty.

"I want you like this," he whispered. "Like two alley cats, fucking and thinking of nothing else but fucking. I've had the romance and it stinks. I want you physically, like two dogs who lock themselves together. And I'm going to take you… now like that!"

Sara's mind screamed in revolt, but her body could only obey his wishes. She bit down on his mouth like a striking snake, thrusting her tongue deeply between his teeth, her breath coming quick. She pushed her mound of pussy forward, knowing that only a thin piece material separated their bodies. She fumbled with his zipper and released his swollen cock. She was about to drop to her knees, to satisfy that horrible hunger in the back of her throat, but he held her.