Her Fiancé's Father Ch. 03

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Isabelle is late: Jack finds a substitute.
3.8k words
4.56
220.9k
70

Part 3 of the 8 part series

Updated 10/30/2022
Created 11/03/2001
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jxa2012
jxa2012
1,472 Followers

1. It was just after noon and the foyer of the office block was crowded with office workers rushing to lunch. Jack was wandering out disconsolately. His son's fiancée, Isabelle, had called to say that his wife Carmen had asked her to go on yet another pre-wedding shopping trip. So she would be unable to meet him for their lunchtime tryst at the office park Hilton. He had gone by the hotel in the morning to pick up the room keycard and had been looking forward to Isabelle's hot body all morning. Even now he was semi-tumescent and had his hands in his pockets to conceal the bulge.

He was lost in thoughts of Isabelle's assets when he felt a sharp bump and a cry of annoyance.

'Now look what you've done!' He had literally bumped into a woman and knocked a set of files out of her hands. She quickly stooped to pick them up, jolting Jack into the present. He could not see her face just see the top of her head, covered with a silky mass of blonde ringlets. She was wearing a dark pinstriped business suit jacket, but from his vantage point, he could see that she was not wearing a blouse. The jacket pulled open as she squatted on her haunches and retrieved her files. Standing above her, Jack got a clear view of the tops of her full breasts straining against a lacy her fire engine red brassiere.

Jack stooped and took her arm and helped her up.

'I'm so sorry,' he began. She had a heart-shaped face and her china blue eyes were clear behind thin wire-rimmed glasses. She wore a red lace choker with a gold heart hanging on it. Her breasts were full and rounded, her waist quite narrow and her ass was generous. Too generous, in fact for the short pinstriped skirt that was the lower half of her suit – the bottoms of her round derriere peeked out and were only covered by her black fishnet pantyhose. She smoothed it her skirt with one hand, pulling at the hem, but it still just covered her crotch.

She looked like she was in her mid-thirties. In ten years, she would probably be fat, but now she positively dripped sex. Jack knew if he let his mind dwell on that, he would get a hard-on and no amount of hands-in-pockets could conceal his huge erection.

She had been prepared to snap at this clumsy oaf, but when saw Jack – his tall athletic frame with his dark hair and distinguished gray at the temples, his piercing gray eyes and thin aquiline nose – her sharp response melted in her mouth.

'Maybe, I'm not sorry,' continued Jack smoothly. 'I'm glad to meet you. I'm Jack Grierson.'

'I'm Trixie Ann Peters,' she said, hesitantly.

'You look busy,' he said. 'Going to lunch or too many deadlines?'

'Lunch!' she said, suddenly voluble. 'I've no time for lunch! My boss wants me to summarize all these reports this afternoon, I have to download a bunch of stuff on Australia for my daughter's school project, just after work I have to attend my son's PTA meeting and go straight from there to my evening MBA class where I've paper due.' She sighed.

'Sounds like you need a neck rub,' Jack said, grinning. 'I happen to be very good at neck rubs.'

She laughed. 'That's not all! My old beater's transmission is dying and I need to drop it off at the shop – that's going to be another couple of hundred dollars that I don't have! Just as well I don't have time for lunch – that's a few bucks saved. You wouldn't be good at fixing cars as well, would you?'

'I think we can work out your problems,' said Jack, easily. 'I have a room over at the Hilton – why don't you have my cock for lunch and take home two hundred dollars to help with your transmission?'

She thought she had not heard him aright. So she laughed again, but rather uncertainly.

'It was nice meeting you,' she said, turning to go. 'See you.'

His gaze was drawn as by a magnet to her round bottom, exposed by her very short skirt. Her fishnet pantyhose emphasized, rather than covered it.

'Three hundred,' said Jack in a quiet, but carrying tone.

She had taken a step away from him, but now she hesitated. Hooked! She was about to continue walking away, when he said:

'Three fifty and a set of tires for your beater.'

She stopped. Jack quickly walked up, took her arm and propelled her out of the building and across the parking lot into the lobby of the Hilton.

'I've never done this before,' she said in a confused tone, 'I'm a faithful wife and mother. I love my husband and children.'

'I know, I know,' said Jack soothingly.

'I have so much to do,' she went on. She was babbling now and Jack let her run on, as they entered the elevator. It was a glass shell that rose above the lobby atrium. As soon as the doors closed, Jack backed her against them. Thus screened from the lobby, but still in public, he unfastened the top button of her jacket and spread the lapels. He almost salivated, for the red brassiere was low cut and her aureoles were large so that their tops were visible. He pulled the top of the bra down and let her nipples escape, tweaking them between thumb and forefinger. They began to pucker up and stiffen just as they reached their floor and the doors opened. Jack's hands returned to his pockets and she just managed to pull her jacket lapels together with her free hand.

A teenage girl and her mother were waiting to get on. Trixie Ann blushed beet red and hurried out by them. Jack smiled at them both – the mother was overweight, but the daughter was pubescent and scantily dressed in a halter-top, drop-waist denim shorts that showed her thong and a belly-button ring. She was probably about fifteen and jailbait. Besides, Jack thought, I have business to attend to.

Nonetheless he managed a quick squeeze of one the daughter's firm little breasts as he exited the elevator, unseen by the mother. He heard the girl's startled gasp as the elevator doors slid shut and her mother's 'What's the matter, Ashley?'

He now propelled Trixie Ann to his room, used his key card and pushed her in. She put her files and leather sling purse on the dressing table. Before she could turn to face him, Jack reached around her and quickly unbuttoned the three large buttons of her jacket. Her brassiere was still pulled down from his mauling in the elevator. Looking in the mirror, he could see her magnificent breasts straining pushed up out of the red bra and cupped one in each hand, kneading quickly and adroitly. He worked his way around the supple melons in ever-diminishing circles, until he reached her sensitive nipples and tweaked them again, this time working on them at length. She started to protest, saying, 'Wait, wait, …'

But Jack did not wait. He stripped her jacket down her arms, pinioning them behind her back. He unzipped his trousers and stepped out of them. He undid his shirt with uncanny speed. His probing hands darted down under her short skirt and unerring found her crotch, continuing to knead, discovering that she wore no panties under her fishnet pantyhose. He found a small tear in the central seam of her pantyhose and drew a gasp from her as he pushed a finger into it and ripped open a long rent. A second later two fingers sank into her cunt and now she cried out. Sex at home had never been like this! All the while, Jack's lips and tongue were working on the sensitive regions just below either ear, down to her choker. She found the sight of what he was doing to her in the mirror incredibly erotic and her cunt began to grow moist. As he continued to finger fuck her, she grew wet and her breathing became quicker.

She felt his hard-on against the small of her back. His left hand now grasped the back of her neck and pushed her forward till her chin rested on the dressing table and her face was a foot from the mirror. Her black high-heeled pumps elevated her round derriere and her short skirt was hiked up by her posture. He stuck his right hand between her ass cheeks and spread her legs slightly apart. She felt the warm bulbous tip of his cock at her wet cunt lips. She knew now that he meant to fuck her here, right on the dressing table. Her arms were still pinioned in her jacket.

'Please,' she said in a shaky voice. 'Not here. Let's go to the bed.'

He did not appear to hear her. His grip on her neck tightened and his dickhead entered her without ceremony. She was only moist and his cock was HUGE.

'OH!!' The cry escaped her unbidden for she was unprepared for his huge size!

Still holding her down by the back of her neck, he rocked back and pushed hard, sinking most of his enormous length into her, feeling the wonderful tightness and warmth of her underused pussy. Her tightness stripped back his foreskin and her first reaction was one of discomfort followed by sharp pain. He was still only partly sheathed in her when his penis tip came into contact with her cervix. Her whole body was quivering with the invasion of his huge dick and now she felt his cock head at her innermost gate.

He drew back a few inches and thrust hard into her again, the tip of his thick cock-head just slightly opening and squeezed by the tight constriction of her cervix. His thrust lifted her off her feet and her heels dangled in mid-air until he drew back.

'AAARGH!!' she cried out again.

She was breathing hard now and her glasses slipped down to the tip of her nose. Jack was afraid she would begin to hyperventilate. He began to rock gently, drawing more and more lubricating vaginal fluid from her cunt as he whispered:

'What a tight little cunt you have, Trixie Ann. It's really turning me on. You are a great fuck, really great. Just rock into me, baby. Slowly, easy does it.'

Her breathing slowed, but her excitement continued to rise; she began crying out:

'Oh, God! Oh my God! Don't stop! JUST DO IT! DO IT! JUST FUCK ME!'

By now her vaginal fluid was flowing so copiously that she began to drip on to the carpet between her legs. Jack thrust against her cervix again, harder and harder, until the warm cervical sphincter yielded. His last three inches sank into her and his mount struck her soft, thick cunt lips with a wet smack. For the first time she felt her womb invaded by a cock head. She screamed. He remained deeply embedded in her, his hard dick throbbing like a great diesel engine.

Then he began to fuck her again, now working up a tempo. Soon he was hammering into her like a piston, slapping her wonderful rounded derriere each time he penetrated her fully. This was sex like Trixie Ann had never experienced it before. Her cunt stretched by a huge cock that penetrated into her very womb and fucked on and on and on! She began to come, suddenly, surprising even herself. And the intensity of her orgasm surprised her even more, for she had never known her contractions to be so powerful and wild. She rotated her hips and cried out: 'Oh, fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me! FUCK ME HARD!' over and over again like a litany.

Her wringing contractions almost drove Jack over the edge. With great effort, he controlled himself, slowing the pace of his fucking. Just as her contractions were winding down, he began fucking her again, quickly rising to a rapid tempo. She could not believe her excitement. His mount smacked against her behind with rapidity. Her arms were pinioned and he held her down with his iron grip on the back of her neck. Every so often his thrust would lift her off her feet. Then he began to slap her buttocks – sharp, hard slaps that left red welts. The sharpness of the pain brought on another orgasm, almost as hard. She screamed incoherently this time and Jack came with a series of grunts. He pumped gouts of thick, musky semen into her through a series of thrusts. She felt the warmth deep inside her, for the semen was ejaculated directly into her innermost womb.

When he gradually withdrew, he held her up, for her legs could barely support her.

'My God!' she panted. 'MY GOD! I'm in outer space!'

Still supporting her, he turned her around and pushed her down to her knees.

'You're not done yet,' Jack said. 'Lick it and suck it, Trixie Ann. Get it up and I'll fuck you once more for dessert.'

She was still panting with her exertion, but she obediently arched her neck and her tongue flicked out to lick his tip. His hands sank into her blonde ringlets and he guided his cock head, now semi-tumescent, into her mouth. She sucked strongly, but inexpertly as he pushed into her mouth and her tongue worked artlessly on his cock as he drew out. He thoughts leaped to Isabelle's expert cock sucking. However, her sweat covered face, her pinioned arms, her full and firm breasts, all aroused him and he quickly regained his hard-on.

He raised her and sat her on edge of dressing table. Immediately, one hand was again at her crotch, kneading her cunt lips through the fishnet nylons. The other held her neck in a vice like grip. With his forearm between her shoulder blades, he mashed her half-naked breasts against his rock hard chest. She felt the head of his renewed erection at her cunt. She tried to gain leverage by reaching for the floor with her sling-back high-heeled pumps, but could not. Her efforts brought her fishnet encased thighs even more tightly around his haunches. His grip on her neck tightened and his dickhead entered her without ceremony.

The hand that had guided his cock now held the roll of her skirt in a fist at the small of her back, steadying her lower body. His lips now found hers. Her wet cunt was slippery with copious amounts of their intermixed juices and his huge cock went straight through her cervical sphincter into her womb in one powerful thrust. He simultaneously bit her full lower lip and drawing blood. She cried out hoarsely, partially muffled by his lips.

He drew back a few inches and thrust hard into her again, his mount striking her soft, thick cunt lips with a wet smack. He bit her lip again as he entered her fully. His thick cock-head was squeezed by the tight constriction of her cervix.

He reveled in the feeling of her closeness – full, firm breasts with hardened nipples against his chest, warm and tight cunt gripping the length of his shaft, fishnet covered thighs threshing around his haunches, mint-flavored breath expelled into his face with her heavy breathing. It even excited him to know that he was fucking her for the second time and she still had all her clothes on.

He thrust into her again and then again, picking up speed and tempo. Soon he was power fucking her with hard, short strokes, eliciting louder and louder moans from her. Her cunt had grown wetter and wetter and by now her vaginal juices had created a wet spot on the carpet. The pain of his cock was long gone, replaced with heat. Her arms were pinioned, but her thighs gripped him tightly and she bucked on the dressing table as she climbed higher and higher. Never had her husband taken her to such heights. No one had ever fucked her like this. So even she was shocked by the violence of her third orgasm. It came in waves, beginning in the deepest recesses of her womb, and radiated outward along her vaginal walls, contracting hard and spasmodically. She screamed with each contraction, so loudly that his lips covered hers and his tongue invaded her mouth to stifle the sound.

Her wild contractions were too much even for Jack's iron control and he began to come again, pumping another gout of thick, musky semen deep into her womb. Spent, they leaned on each other, covered with sweat, still breathing heavily from their exertions, the mixture of her vaginal fluids and his semen leaking out around his softening cock to further soak the thighs of her pantyhose and drip onto the dressing table and carpet.

'Really, you could have used the bed, Jack,' she said, her voice shaking. 'I feel like a whore, fucked here on the dressing table with all my clothes on.'

Jack withdrew from her and plumped her breasts, one in each hand. He tweaked her nipples hard, drawing a high-pitched cry of pain and saying – 'What you feel is just so, my dear. I pay you, I fuck you, and you're a whore. Its that simple.'

He tweaked her meaty nipples again and again, now even more roughly, drawing squeals of protest and leaving bruises that would later turn red and purple. Taking her in his arms, he lifted her bodily and carried her to the wide king size bed and laid her down. She sprawled, arms pinioned behind her by her jacket, bra pulled down, skirt hiked around her waist, body covered with sweat.

'Bastard,' she said, too spent to move. 'Filthy pig!'

Jack did not respond. He picked up his trousers, withdrew his wallet and counted out some bills. He rolled them up, leaned over the bed and pushed the roll into her wet cunt. She squealed again and wriggled to get her jacket back on and free her arms.


'There's three hundred and fifty there,' said Jack, grinning. 'Call my secretary and she'll take care of your new tires.' He threw a business card on the bed beside her.

She drew the bills from her cunt, now wet with vaginal fluids and semen, and stuffed them into her jacket pocket without counting them. Swinging her legs off the bed, she picked up the business card and pocketed it as well.

There was the sound of slow hand clapping. Isabelle leaned on the doorjamb, wearing a short skirt, flowery halter-top and thong slippers with stiletto heels.

'That's what I love about you, Jack,' she said, smiling. 'Short and to the point. Would you introduce your mistress to your whore?'

Trixie Ann's mouth dropped open. Without stopping to cover herself, she hurried to the bathroom, breasts jouncing and slammed the door. They soon heard the sound of running water in the sink. Isabelle began to giggle helplessly. She tottered over to Jack and threw her arms around his neck, rubbing her magnificent breasts on his chest.

'The look on her face!' she sputtered, between giggles. Finally gaining control of herself, she continued, 'Even a stud like you is going to be flat for a while after that performance. I'll have to wait till the evening for my share!'

His grin broadened.

Trixie Ann emerged from the bathroom with her face set and left without saying a word. She did not slam the room door and they heard the receding clicks of her heels in the hotel corridor.

* * * * * * * * * *

2. Trixie Ann hurried into her office and quickly made her way to her cube. A dozen client emails had accumulated and as she dealt with them she multi-tasked into report summaries that she emailed one at a time to her boss, who was at an off-site meeting. She was so busy that it was an hour before she took any notice of the warm sensation between her legs. It was only when it squished when she turned in her chair that she clicked her tongue in irritation and stood up – and froze. She felt wetness in her cunt and thick fluid burbling out onto her upper thighs.

Isabelle's appearance in the room had been acutely embarrassing. Jack had treated her abominably, but she could have rationalized it to herself. But to have another woman observe her humiliation! She had wanted to get out as fast she could. She had just straightened her clothing, given her face a quickly rinse and wiped herself off with some toilet paper. This was all she did when (on rare occasions) her husband grew amorous before she left for work in the morning.

But Jack had pumped a huge load of semen deep into her womb. No one had done this to her before. It would have taken a thorough douche to cleanse him out of her. Thick, musky semen was now seeping out of her cunt – the dried fluid on her pantyhose now grew wet and sticky again. Soon the semen would seep through and raise a wet stain on her skirt. She hurried to the ladies' room. Quickly examining herself in the mirror, she applied a thick coat of lipstick to hide the traces of Jack's bites. Then she locked herself in a stall. She fashioned a thick wad of toilet paper into a cylindrical shape. Then bracing her legs apart, she hiked her skirt up and steadying her cunt between fore- and middle fingers, inserted the TP cylinder into herself.

jxa2012
jxa2012
1,472 Followers
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