Ad Men

His face reddened further. He appreciated that she was apparently not offended by his indiscretion, but her calling attention to it did make him feel more uncomfortable. "Oh my goodness, yes, yes." He would at times get hard-ons at work, at least when he took a brief moment to enjoy a Playboy hidden deep within his desk drawer. He often wondered if his secretary came across it. He would keep it well buried, but some days he felt that her morning smile expressed an amusement, a knowledge of a dirty secret, as well as an hello. In any case, after a brief consideration of the Girls of Hollywood, he would have to stay behind his desk for awhile. He would never parade it around the office.

"Well, never you mind your busy mind, Mr. Bradley. Let me take care of that pesky rascal." She handed him a mug of steaming hot coffee and slipped down onto her knees before the CEO. "After all, it was really my fault, wasn't it, sir."

That was a good point.

She smiled up at him as she began to undo his trousers. "I dreamed I performed oral sex in my Maidenform bra."

He did have to smile at that, although it was unlikely to be included in the campaign. But, here? "Right here? In the kitchenette?"

"No one will come in, sir, trust me," she said, as she reached into his slacks, feeling around his boxers, and his stiff erection, for the flap, for the point of entry. "The girls have all gotten their coffee for the morning. Nobody will come in here until lunch. Everyone is much too busy. Oh my goodness!" She exclaimed as she extracted his stiff cock.

Mr. Bradley glanced around in panic. The kitchenette was a small, narrow room, and they were fully alone, but any one of the girls he could see through the open entrance into the kitchenette would also easily observe his exposed erection. Beads of sweat formed on his brow as the pretty big-titted secretary handled his stiff, hard erect dick.

Mr. Bradley did not realize, however, that this had all been planned in advance, and the secretaries within sight of the kitchenette had been instructed to provide teasing glimpses, perhaps even ogling views, of their brassiere clad breasts, but to avoid actually looking into the kitchenette while Babs attempted to convince Mr. Bradley of the effectiveness of their pitch, their proposed campaign. The fate of the contract was now, quite literally, in Babs' hands, and soon will depend on her oratory, as well as oral skills.

"Mr. Bradley, I can see why you are such a terribly successful, powerful businessman. My goodness. You're just so awfully big."

Well, he was taking a pretty big chance here. It would not be good to be caught with his stiff cock sticking out in a company's headquarters. Surely that would make the evening news: the head of Maidenform caught exposing himself. He shifted over so that Babs was at least blocking a direct line of vision to his erect dick.

Babs, though, did not appear to be at all self-conscious or concerned. He wondered if perhaps once you become comfortable dressed only in your Maidenform, you become comfortable with quite a bit more?

She asked, "Do all the men at Maidenform have such big penises?"

It was a rather silly remark, to say the least, but rarely is flattery regarding one's cock perceived as being silly, particularly when it is from a pretty lady who is fondly fondling it.

"I really wouldn't know, dear," he modestly replied.

Babs smiled. "Well, of course not. How silly of me. It's not like all you big powerful executives show each other your penises or anything. Goodness. I can be so stupid sometimes."

He patted her on the head reassuringly. "That's alright, dear."

She looked up at him. "You know, sir. I'm not a bad girl or anything. I don't do this sort of thing all the time, you know."

"Oh, I know. I know." He was thinking though that she really should get moving before anyone came in.

"You won't tell Mr. Draper, will you?"

"Of course not."

"I could get into a whole lot of trouble." Mr. Draper though knew full well what she was doing. He had asked if anyone would be willing to volunteer, and Babs was the first to raise her hand. She wasn't Mr. Draper's secretary for nothing.

Mr. Bradley, though, was more concerned about the trouble he could get into, and his desire to get those luscious pink lips wrapped around his cock.

"But, I just can't help myself around such a big, manly penis." She continued to admire it, lightly drawing her fingers up and down its length. "It's so stout, and stiff, and tall."

She looked up at him, past his thrusting cock, into his eyes, as he looked down at hers, and her lips. "I don't think I could get one as big as this in me."

That was perhaps pushing it, but advertisers rarely understated the value of their clients' products.

"I'm going to have to really open up my mouth wide to get this thing in," and with that she leaned forward on her knees and slipped the head of the CEO's dick into her mouth.

It actually wasn't at all difficult for her to absorb, and her pleasure in tasting him was immediately apparent. "Mmm mm good. Mmm mm good," she said through the cock stuffed into her mouth, releasing it briefly to add, smiling sweetly up at him, "Mr. Bradley's cock is mmm mm good," and then returned the engorged, bulbous head of his dick back into her mouth. A girl who liked the taste of cock better than Campbell's soup was a pretty darned good girl. She began to wash and caress the smooth, soft, swollen bulb with her tongue.

It was true that Babs did not do this for any guy, but she had done it more than a few times and she did like doing it. She did it a lot for Mr. Draper. He could get so tense sometimes. A secretary's job wasn't just a matter of taking dictation and retrieving memos. Advertising was a very competitive, very stressful business, and sometimes Mr. Draper just needed some relief, a moment of blissful distraction from the pressures of the job, and Babs was quite happy to provide it.

"Mmmmm," she moaned again, delighting in the feel, the taste, of this thick, bulbous dick in her mouth. She had been a bit over the top in her flattery of Mr. Bradley, but he did have a very nice, thick, tasty cock. It was perhaps not quite as good as Mr. Draper's, but she doubted that she would ever find another cock as good as his. Still, Mr. Bradley's did feel so good in her mouth. There was something that was just so right about having a cock in her mouth, about giving a powerful man pleasure in this very special way. She might not herself be able to lead a powerful company, but she could make that leader a very, very happy man.

She dove down into her task with considerable gusto.

She licked and lapped her tongue all around and around the head of Mr. Bradley's dick, and it was Mr. Bradley's turn to moan with pleasure. He leaned back against the kitchenette counter and softly, subtly thrust his hips forward and back, gently sliding his cock in and out of the pretty secretary's pink lips.

Yes, it was a little risky. Perhaps really risky. But, actually, the riskiness of it also made it more exciting. He gazed out over the secretarial pool, at all of the lovely ladies in their pointy Maidenform bras, as he felt the head of his dick being caressed and washed in the mouth of Babs. He was really beginning to appreciate the playfulness, the delightfulness, of the Sterling Cooper proposal. His eyes caught the sight of one poster in particular. It read, "I took the bull by the horn in my Maidenform bra," as the brassiere clad maiden was grasping hold of a bull's horn as Babs took hold of his, stroking her fist up and down his cock all the while continuing to suck and lick the head.

Yes, this was an excellent idea for a campaign. Really, really good. It just felt so right, so intensely good, so very inspiring.

Babs then began to meet the gentle thrusting of the executive's hips with a more forceful bobbing of her head, fucking his cock with her face, sliding her lips up and down the shaft along with her fist, the kitchenette now filled with the slurping and slapping sounds of her sloppy suck.

He was going to cum. He could feel the building surge, the sense of the inevitable, the moment before the profound release. His eyes glazed over as he met the eyes of one of the secretaries within the pool, who just smiled at him in her white, pointy brassiere and blew him a kiss.

Out popped his cock. Babs again smiled up at him, looking this time though a little flushed and out of breath, her pink lips and chin shining with moisture. "Does she or doesn't she, Mr. Bradley?"

Mr. Bradley was out of breath as well, his balls straining, longing, panting. "Excuse me?"

"I bet you're wondering, does she or doesn't she?"

Mr. Bradley had indeed been wondering, although it wasn't about hair color.

Babs would have to admit that her question had been an ad proposal of Miss Holloway's, not her. "Well, she does, Mr. Bradley," Babs said, as she continued to stroke his cock. "She swallows." Her sky blue eyes twinkled as she said it, and as she saw his eyes light up at the idea. "I like it. I like it when a man shoots his hot sticky cum in my mouth and on my face." Her stroking became more urgent, more rapid, more pressured. "I like it anywhere you want to squirt it. You just give me all the manly frosting you want, anywhere you want." She leaned her head back and opened her mouth up wide.

"Oooooh," Betsy said, as she strode into the kitchenette with Pam, each holding a largely empty coffee cup. "It looks like we got here just in time." They had decided they needed a refresher. They knew they were defying Mr. Draper's instructions, but they just didn't want to be left out and, besides, maybe they could in fact be of some assistance.

Mr. Bradley's heart leaped into his mouth, which fell open in silent shock.

"Mr. Bradley," Pam added, "Are you going to squirt that nasty thing all over Babs' pretty little face?"

Babs shut her mouth on Mr. Bradley's cock, a look of concern washed over her face. She liked performing for men, especially powerful men, but only in private. She was not used to this. She paused, the man's cock lodged in her mouth as Betsy and Pam strode over to the coffee decanter.

Mr. Bradley was even more concerned. "Oh my! It's not what you think!" Although it clearly was. His knees were buckling with fright and the urge to cum.

"Relax, Mr. Bradley," Pam said, as she poured herself some coffee. Her brassiere was low cut with considerable cleavage, providing a rather nice view of the tops of her breasts jiggling as she filled the cup in her hand. "In fact, maybe you can provide the cream. We just have that Pream Cream. I much prefer a thicker, tasty, masculine cream." She held out her mostly filled cup to Mr. Bradley as she handed the carafe to Betsy.

"Oh yes," Betsy added, "Please do. I like lots of cream in my coffee." Betsy wore one of the more traditional pointy bras, although it was quite lacy and snug fitting.

Mr. Bradley had panicked when the two secretaries first came in, his worst fear of being discovered now becoming realized. But, he was now not only relieved, he was inspired, inspired by the fact that not only was one pretty secretary waiting, wanting, urging him to gush his spunk into her mouth and onto her face, the bulb of his cock lodged within her pretty lips, her tongue pressing against his crown, there were now two others who wanted to watch and to receive his seed. His cock regained its strength, its desire, and his balls cocked back to try again.

"Besides, Mr. Bradley," Betsy said, as she poured out her coffee, "I've always dreamed of watching a man cum on my Maidenform Bra."

Babs resumed stroking and licking his cock, her big round eyes staring longingly into his, her breasts heaving in a yearning desire to receive his seed.

Mr. Bradley's heart rate accelerated, his head felt faint, and his eyes misted over as he felt the surge of cum drive up his shaft and burst out his cock, splatting somewhere deep down into Babs' mouth.

"Hmmmmm," Babs sighed as she felt Mr. Bradley's cum slide past her tongue and splash in a deep back corner of her mouth. It was too late now for any lingering doubts about the presence of the two other ladies and, besides, they were all now washed away by the cleansing fluid of Mr. Bradley's cum.

She licked at the glob lodged deep in her mouth, enjoying his manly flavor, as further spits and gobs shot forth into her mouth. She quickly pulled her face away though so that she could receive a good portion on her face. She knew he would like that. Miss Holloway had suggested that powerful, successful executives always seemed to like to cum on your face, and Babs fully respected the Office Manager's sage advice.

Mr. Bradley braced himself with his hands on the counter and watched with deep pleasure, with orgasmic satisfaction, as his dick twitched and jerked in her hand, squirting ropes and wads onto her smiling face.

"Oh my, Mr. Bradley, when it rains and pours," exclaimed Betsy.

"Shot from guns," Pam added.

He could not help but think how very compelling ad slogans seemed to be pouring from these girls' mouths as the gism gushed from his cock, splashing and spraying onto Babs' face. Perhaps his cum was inspiring them? In any case, this was indeed a very talented and creative ad agency.

Babs became thoroughly drenched. It might indeed be true that CEOs have the largest balls, or perhaps it was simply that Mr. Bradley had not cum in quite some time, being deprived by a rather disinterested wife. Well, whatever the reason, it was all good for Babs, and very much appreciated. She did so much like the taste of manly cum, particularly the cum of rich, successful businessmen, and Mr. Bradley was everything of that, plus more.

It was by far one of the nicest, richest, and most satisfying orgasms Mr. Bradley had ever had, with one girl taking it in her mouth and on her face, while two other pretty ladies watched with gleeful pleasure, even clapping, dressed in their stunning brassieres: the pride and joy of Maidenform and Mr. Bradley.

A man likes being admired. Mr. Bradley always enjoyed it when his wife would watch him play golf, admiring his skill, his athleticism, the strength and accuracy of his shots. But, there was something so much more fundamentally satisfying to have pretty ladies admire your cum shot. He gave himself over to base pride and the primal pleasure sweeping over him as he gushed and splatted his cum all over Babs' face. It seemed to go on forever, much to his satisfaction, and to theirs.

When he was done Betsy held out her coffee mug beneath Babs' face and caught two rather large globs as they dripped off her chin. "Hmmm," she said as she brought the mug to her nose. "Such a rich, deep aroma. Everything you love about coffee." His mind was confused, but he could swear he had heard that before.

Babs scooped off a few globs for herself and, while smiling up at Mr. Bradley, she licked her fingers clean. "Finger lickin' good, Mr. Bradley." He had not heard that before, but it sounded nice.

Pam slid a finger along Babs' cheek to get her own serving and then let it drip into her mug. She took a sip and said, "The best part of waking up is Mr. Bradley's cum in your cup."

Mr. Bradley was duly impressed with the ability of Mr. Draper's so very gifted, talented, and lovely staff to generate so many good ideas. This was indeed a very impressive ad agency. He would have to give them his most serious consideration, once he was able to catch his breath.

Babs used her hand to squeeze out the remaining gism from Mr. Bradley's cock into her mouth and said, smiling up at him through her cum splattered face, "Good to the last drop."

Needless to say, Sterling Cooper landed the contract. They were well on their way to winning this year's Clio, and to even bigger, better, more innovative campaigns.

THE NATIONAL AIRLINES ACCOUNT

Sterling Cooper was not always successful. They had approached the Borden's Milk Company with a proposal to have young attractive wives appear with splashes of creamy milk on their faces, some of it dripping off of their noses and chins. Each would just say, smiling into the camera, "Got Milk?" But, for some reason, the potential client didn't go for it. Perhaps the double entendre was too obvious.

Sterling Cooper though was not deterred. They just felt that they were ahead of the times, in front of the game.

Their next client was a challenge. It was an airline, National Airlines to be more precise. What was particularly sexy about air travel? They considered many options, like 'Fly the friendly skies of National,' "We have to earn our wings every day,' ' We never forget you have a choice,' and 'We love to fly. And it shows.' But, none of these seemed particularly appealing or catchy. Plus, they just didn't have the mark of a Sterling Cooper campaign.

And, then, naturally, Mr. Draper had an inspiration.

It would require a further demonstration of the dedication, the resolve, of the secretarial pool. But, he had faith in their investment in the success and future of Sterling Cooper. Their future was Sterling Cooper's future, and the future of Sterling Cooper rested on their shoulders, or at least on their breasts, and, of course, their mouths, and then perhaps somewhere else as well.

The agency was a titter with anticipation for the arrival of Mr. Dudley Swim, the CEO of National Airlines. A lot of effort had been given to their presentation, and his reception.

When Mr. Swim stepped off the elevator he was greeted by the sight of facsimiles of the top halves of two bomber nose cones, one on each side of the reception's desk, each capped by large knobs. Their resemblance to a particular anatomy of a woman was quite inescapable.

They were indeed bomber nose cones, for painted on each was an enticing airbrush pin-up girl. One girl was dressed in a long flowing, and revealing, pink nightgown, the other in a green baby doll. The paintings were really quite nice. Mr. Swim smiled. He had always enjoyed airbrush pin-ups. Most every man of his generation would, and did, smile at the sight of "Bomber Babes."

Mr. Draper offered Mr. Swim a Luck Strike and explained, "One component of our proposed campaign will be to have the nose cones of your larger passenger jets be decorated by traditional bomber art."

Mr. Swim was intrigued. He nodded in approval, but he did have a rather significant concern. He declined the cigarette (not a good sign for Mr. Draper) and responded, "Aren't they a bit provocative, I mean, sexually, you know? I mean, well, many of our flights include mothers and their children. This isn't the Air Force anymore, you know. It's not just men who will be riding these planes."

Mr. Draper pursued his pitch. "National Airlines garnered considerable PR in the war by providing a portion of its fleet for the Air Transport Command, as well as operating Air Corps contract schools for pilots, mechanics, radio operators and navigators. I would in fact suggest commissioning some of the original bomber artists to provide the artwork. Who would object to that? You would only be embracing your patriotic history."

It was a compelling argument but Mr. Swim was not convinced. He furrowed his brow.

Mr. Draper took a long drag on his cigarette and pursed his pitch. "In addition, women will be directly and explicitly involved in this campaign. They will not be ignored. More specifically, the models will not be professionals, there only because of their attractiveness, perhaps only because they were being paid. The models will in fact be your own stewardesses!" He turned toward one of the two nose cones and called out, "Joan, Babs, if you would."

Each of the two ladies appeared from behind her corresponding cone. Joan was dressed, or more accurately, undressed, in the flowing pink nightgown that was depicted on her nose cone, and Babs in her cone's green baby doll. The CEO's eyes widened in shock, and pleasure.