Joanie Joins the Workforce

Bob was one of those increasingly rare people who still smoke. His breath smelled of tobacco and wine, and I found it intoxicating. I discovered I became aroused just by the smell of cigarette and alcohol.

When I thought about it later, I guess I enjoyed the taboo nature of cigarettes and alcohol. I should explain; neither one is illegal of course. Lots of people smoke and almost everyone drinks, but smoking makes you sick in the long run. Perhaps because of that, people are moralistic and paternalistic about it.

People have the same Puritan attitudes of disapproval about being drunk in public. I'm not talking about being "a drunk," for example a homeless man whose best friend is the bottle. They get pathos. No, I'm talking about a regular, hard working guy like Bob who one night drinks too much and is walking around in public drunk.

That describes how Bob was that very evening. Maybe that's why I found the combination of the smells of alcohol and cigarettes on his breath so sexy. I have always been upfront about it: I am weird. I guess you could say I am alienated.

I surprised myself by kissing back, opening my mouth, and letting our tongues mingle. This turned a harmless affectionate kiss into a sexy one. I was aroused.

We kissed for a while, letting the sea breezes that rush up the Hudson at night caress our faces as we got more and more aroused by each other. I was still sober enough to ask at precisely this moment if he would approve my move to the City government for a year.

He said, "Yes, Joanie. And I'll do it first thing tomorrow at the office if I can go home with you tonight." Then before I could answer he kissed me again.

"Bob, you are a jerk,' I said pulling away from him. "You could easily have seduced me into your bed, but you made me sound cheap, like I would be fucking you to get what I wanted. Actually, I wanted to fuck you tonight, but making it a condition to get the approval ruined it."

I couldn't believe I said that. Bob turned red and was stammering, trying to speak but unable. In a moment of clarity, I spoke a revealing truth, I don't know why. Well, I do know why: I was too drunk to stop myself.

I said, "You're lucky, though, even if you are an asshole. Rewarding me for fucking you makes me feel like a whore, and that truly turns me on." I kissed him, and stroked his cock. My kiss had passion. Bob was at a loss. His head was swimming at what was happening, although I could see his cock was rock hard. I had him confused and I liked that.

Next I surprised even myself.

"Why wait?" I said. I took off my suit vest and my blouse, putting them on the ground, neatly folded. I was down to my bra. I dropped to my knees, and right there on the public walkway of the Cloisters, overlooking the Hudson with New Jersey beyond, I undid his pants and pushed them down, along with his briefs, revealing an impressive erect, hard and throbbing cock.

"Mmm, nice," I said, as I licked it like a Popsicle.

Bob was in a state of shock, and nervous to have his cock out in public, I could tell. "Don't you think we would be more comfortable..." he began. I swallowed his cock in my mouth, sucking him in almost all the way to his balls. His cock was too big for me to get it all inside of my small mouth. But I did a good job.

I released his cock from my mouth and said, "No. Isn't it nice out here in nature? And there's nobody about."

I quickly stripped, but still taking the time to neatly fold and place my skirt on my jacket. My panties I took off slowly, and he was rapt watching them slide, little by little, down my hips and then drop to the ground. I was standing in front of him naked. I just stood there, stark naked in front of him. The next move was his.

The walkway was lit up at night, so it was not really dark. Bob was clearly stupefied by my boldness and completely flummoxed. I had become a brazen hussy. My body glistened in the glow from the walkway lights.

He did not know what to do. His pants were around his ankles, and his hard cock was pointing at me. He must have known the next move was his to make.

He moved forward to kiss me again, and while he kissed me I grabbed his cock in my hands and began to pump it. I was having fun. It was exciting for me to take control of my boss and make him so ill at ease. Here he was, in a New York City public park, with his sexy female employee naked before him, stroking his cock as he kissed her. He was scared. He was turned on. He did not know what to do.

I took his cock and started to rub it around my pubic hairs. This was not easy, since he was so much taller than I am. I am a short girl. I took his hand and led him to a part of the walkway that climbed a little hill. I stood uphill from him, and then I was able easily to rub his cock around my genitalia. I must confess it felt nice. That and the kissing, and being naked in public, were all turning me on.

We were lost in this, and we did not notice a couple walking down the path. The woman said nothing and walked right past us. Nothing fazes New Yorkers. But her date clapped Bob on the shoulder as it to say, "Way to go, buddy." He winked at me and smiled. This got Bob much more relaxed.

Now Bob took charge. He took my hand, and led me to the grass. It was symbolically fenced off so that it could stay healthy, but we ignored that. He lay me down on the grass, and it felt nice beneath me. He spread my legs.

He removed completely his pants and climbed on top. He kissed me and played with my boobs for a few minutes, and then positioned his cock at the entrance where all men desire entry. He said, "Are you sure about this, Joanie?"

I said, "We shouldn't. You're my boss."

He said, "I need you. Just this one time. I have to have you."

"And your signature?" I wanted to make clear I was fucking for him for my reward. Just like a whore.

"Oh God, yes. Yes!" he said.

I saw the lust in his eyes. God, I love seeing lust in men's eyes. When the lust is for me, that is. I said, "Go for it, lover boy."

My cunt was wet and welcoming as he plunged in. I think he was not getting much pussy in his routine life, because a few minutes later he exploded months of saved up cum into me. It seemed like his cock was a fire hose, filled with cum. It felt wonderful, actually, but I was far from sexual release.

I knew the answer. "Let's go to your place."

We almost ran back to his car. He dressed, but I stayed naked, carrying my clothes. I draped my clothes over my private parts, after I fastened my seat belt, but my tits were clearly on display. He drove that way, obeying all laws to avoid being pulled over. After all, he was driving drunk, and I was nude, sitting next to him.

He lived in Brooklyn. He parked on the street. It was late and nobody was about, so I made a naked dash to his building's door. He punched in the code and we entered, him laughing, me giggling.

We took the elevator to his floor and went to his apartment, and he took me directly to the bedroom, lay me down on the bed, stripped off his clothes, and jumped on top of me. I told him he had to get me wet first.

The idiot did not know what to do. I could not believe it. I said, "Try pretending your fingers are a cock." So he tentatively stuck a finger in me. "Now move it in and out, Bob." He did. That helped.

I gradually got wet again, but he was so embarrassed and ashamed, he had lost his erection. So I gave him what must have been his first blowjob. This poor guy! Here he was in his mid to late thirties, and he had precious little experience with a woman, that was clear.

When he was good and hard, I stopped the blowjob and opened my legs wide. This he understood and soon we were fucking away. He actually wasn't bad, now that he was no longer scared from being outside, and reassured about his manliness.

I ended up spending the night, and in the morning I introduced him to doggy style, as we did the deed again. I got up and made us breakfast wearing only an apron. It was a half apron, tying at my waist, and covering only the front of my body below the waist. He enjoyed pinching and massaging my bare ass as I cooked.

His apartment had lots of windows, and I had opened all the blinds and drapes, ostensibly to let the sun in, but in reality to show off my body to any neighbors who could see in.

To make it easy on the neighbors (I did not want them to get eye strain, thoughtful girl that I am), I saw he had a little balcony, with a tiny table and two chairs. It was not been used for a long time, if ever, so I cleaned the dirt off the table and chairs and served us breakfast on the balcony. He used it only for smoking.

I kept on my apron, but I was stark naked underneath, and he was wearing a robe and nothing else. While we ate, me on display to his neighbors (if they were looking), I pushed my leg straight out and fondled his cock with my toes. He got hard again.

I noticed some neighbors across the street were looking. They were not subtle. I figured this was not a common sight in those parts: or really, if you think about it, in any parts. But I was out of control. I was still drunk from all of the alcohol the night before. And I liked being the more experienced one, and in charge, a state I had never before been in.

To keep the mood I discovered he had champagne in the fridge and I made us mimosas. We each had three, but then the bottle was empty, so no fourth mimosas for us. But I was seriously drunk again.

So I told Bob to bring the furniture from the balcony inside. He obediently did, although he did not know why. Then I led him back to the balcony and got on my hands and knees and waved my ass at him. He could not do it. He could not fuck me in front of an audience, even if I was there, young and luscious, naked and willing, even inviting him. He just couldn't do it.

I was disappointed. I was drunk and a slut, and he was too uptight. What a fool. But I am sweet and charitable, so I let him take me one more time, and this last time, I had my first orgasm with Bob. I even squirted. He was so innocent he did not know what was happening when I squirted. Wow.

While we were lying there in the afterglow, his cum dripping out of my cunt, I said, "Let's go to the office and you can sign the form, okay?"

He said, "Sure. Boy, this has been some ride we've been on together. Is it over?"

"Yes Bob," I replied. "You wanted to fuck me in order for me to get your signature on the form, and I decided, why not do it in style? Don't read too much into it. I could just as easily have fucked Sam, Frank, or Jerome, or all of them in a gangbang, you know?"

That was a super, super dumb thing to have said. "Really?" Bob said. I could see the wheels turning in his head. "How about I sign it on the condition you allow the team to gangbang you?"

"Bob, I was being sarcastic. Who or what do you think I am?"

"Well, Joanie, I guess I'm learning as we go. To be honest, I am not that knowledgeable about women."

No shit, Sherlock, I thought. But I did appreciate his confession. Even though it was patently obvious, it is not easy for a man to say that, I should think. Especially not a man his age!

"Oh shit," Bob suddenly said. "Joanie, it's Sunday. What time is it?"

"It's 10am. Why? The office is open, we can still go."

"Don't you remember the plans we made to do fantasy football this morning? At the bar? Or were you too drunk even to listen to us?"

"You noticed, did you?" I said, giggling. "So you come to fantasy football late. No big deal."

"Joanie, the men are coming here. At 10am," Bob said, as we sat on the bed.

"Oh," I said, trying to think fast in my drunken state.

A minute later I heard the voice of Jerome yelling out, "Anyone home? We're all here! Where are you, in the bedroom, still sleeping it off? Julie go wake him up the way you woke me up this morning." Even from the other room, I could hear the sexual innuendo in his voice, it was so thick. Or maybe it's just that my mind is in the gutter.

A woman's voice said, "Do it yourself, asshole." This made me think she did something. A wake up fuck? A wake up blowjob? A wakeup strip tease, but no action?

While I was ruminating, I forgot to get under the covers, and saw Jerome's face in the doorway staring at my naked, cum filled body. I quickly slipped under the covers. Frank's voice came from the other room, yelling, "Come on Bob! I've got the beers open and we're starting the pregame drinking! Guacamole and chips await!"

Jerome closed the door to the bedroom, saying loudly, "Bob's getting dressed. He'll be out soon." Then I detected whispering. So everyone knew we had just fucked. Men talk, especially about sex. Shit.

Bob got dressed, mumbling sorry. I was drunk, so my thinking wasn't perfect. Bob is a lot taller, bigger, and a hell of a lot heavier than I am, so I rummaged around and found a clean white shirt, and put it on, being careful to button all the buttons.

I checked the buttons, too, and there was no risk of them falling off or coming undone. I checked the label: the shirt was made in Eastern Europe. Made no doubt by woefully underpaid artisans. But doubtless they were paid more than Asian wage slaves.

I looked around some more and found a collection of silk ties. I took off the shirt. I found the longest one and tied it around my neck, and then pulled down on it and slipped my boobs above it. It gave them a little support. I put the shirt back on.

I have a tiny waist even for a small girl like me, so there was no way one of Bob's belts would fit, they were just too huge. So I got another tie, and even that was too big, so I used it as a sash around my hips.

I found a huge handkerchief, and I do mean huge. It barely fit but it served as a belt around my waist. Bob had no mirror, so I looked at my reflection in the mirror. I unbuttoned the top few buttons, and did not like what I saw.

I unbuttoned the shirt to my waist, and then used another long tie as another breast support. Then I used a third. Finally they altogether had the effect of a push up bra. Then I buttoned up and again looked at my reflection in the window. I unbuttoned one final button, so I showed some cleavage. Perfect: I looked sexy as hell, and even attractive with my colorful silk "sash."

My clothes, panties, and bra were in a pile somewhere in the apartment, but not in the bedroom. I entered the room when they were passing around cell phone pictures of me at the bar. Sam smelled my panties and was grinning. I was furious. I squashed my anger.

The men, and the woman called Julie, stared at me. I smiled sweetly at them, saying, "Good morning boys. Drinking a bit early, wouldn't you say?" Then I walked over to Julie, and said, "We haven't met yet. I am the totally embarrassed Joanie, and I work with these animals."

Julie smiled. "Pleased to meet you. I've heard a lot about you: all of it good, and all of it sexy I see it's all true, too. You look spectacular. I love what you did with what you had to work with." She winked at me. "How about a beer?"

I don't like beer, but I didn't say that. I pointed to the empty champagne bottle, saying, "Bob and I had a head start. Mimosas. I already have a serious buzz"

Julie smiled. She had a pretty face and a decent body. She was wearing tight jeans and a tank top, and clearly a bra. It was a good choice for a drunken fantasy football session. Not like me: Wearing a huge man's shirt and absolutely nothing else, except of course for four silk ties and a handkerchief.

Julie sat on the couch, and I sat next to her, feeling safer next to a woman. This was an illusion, as it turned out. Jerome said to her, "Julie, I want you to dress like Joanie. Go into Bob's bedroom and change." He said it firmly. I suspected Julie is a submissive.

"No," she said. Actually she kind of whined. Her tone was tentative, questioning. "I'm comfortable like this. You promised, remember?"

I wonder what Jerome promised her? Maybe that he would behave at the fantasy football gathering, and not force her to do things? What things I could only imagine. Well, I guess one thing he could ask her to do was to change her clothes, since he just did that.

"Do it, Julie," Jerome said.

Julie was clearly reluctant, but she slowly got up off the couch. Jerome's voice suddenly got fierce, almost threatening, as he turned to me and said, "Unbutton, Joanie."

Well, I am not a submissive. Far from it! But sometimes, when I am drunk, I enjoy being ordered about by a man who takes firm control. I know it's bogus, but I let myself believe it relieves me of responsibility for my actions. I undid the top button.

"Keep going," Jerome barked. Julie began to walk to the bedroom, almost crying. I undid a second button. All the men were looking at me. Bob was almost drooling. "Undo all of them!" Jerome said, and I noticed his hands were clenched into fists.

I thought about saying no, but the words would just not come out. Instead, idiotically, I complied, but painfully slowly. All the men's eyes were riveted on me. I could see the lust in their eyes. Every single one of them. I was getting wet.

Fortunately, my handkerchief belt and my silk tie sash kept the shirt closed, even unbuttoned. But it opened around the boobs, and the men could see around half or more of my boobs. The nipples were still hidden, but only barely.

Apparently Julie had returned. "You too, Julie. Joanie, help her." I could not believe it: both of us were in his power, as if we were in a trance. I helped Julie unbutton the buttons. She did not have a belt, or a sash. The shirt fell wide open. Julie clutched it closed.

Jerome turned to the men. "Sam and Frank, would you mind please verifying that the girls are naked underneath their shirts?"

Sam came to me, and Frank went to Julie. They both opened our shirts. Sam had fun removing the handkerchief and the tie sash. He felt me up as he did it. We were both quite obviously naked underneath them. Jerome said, "Now check for cum."

This got us both alarmed. I looked at Julie and her eyes looked terrified. But seeing my eyes probing her, she simply shrugged. The men stuck fingers in our cunts, pumping them a little. Julie groaned. "Well?" Jerome barked.

Frank said, "Clean. Julie is clean."

Sam said, "Not so for this little wench." His finger was covered in Bob's cum. Jerome told him to offer it to Julie. Shaking a little she tasted it.

"Whose cum is it, woman?" he said roughly, looking at Julie. She pointed at Bob, who blushed. "How does it taste?"

Julie said, barely a whisper, "Good."

"Say it again, woman. Louder."

"Bob's cum tastes good. It's yummy," Julie said, as tears streamed down her face.

I forgot how embarrassing and humiliating this was for me, and I forgot to wonder why I was even doing this. Instead I was consumed with fascination by what was happening with Jerome and Julie, and where on earth this was going.

I knew about gangbangs. My former lover, Philip the banker, had used my body to get ahead. In Paris he had me fuck a potential client, who was into bondage and sadism. It was not too bad, but after he finished with me, he left me there bound, and basically I was gangbanged, without my consent, by four more men I had never even met. Philip won the account, and I was angry with him for a month, before he gradually won back my affections.

Part of my weakening and coming back with all my love to Philip was that, while I never told anyone, and still haven't, looking back on the experience I found that I actually enjoyed the bondage element, once again because I had no responsibility for what happened. Even more outrageous, perhaps, is that if I were honest with myself, I had to admit that I liked the gangbang sex. I must have cum dozens of times.

I was bound and gangbanged again in Zurich, this time by ten men in succession, one after the other relentlessly, when I was sold into sexual slavery "for charity" for 24 hours. Philip had blackmailed me into doing that. I still have not forgiven him. But it's our secret, okay: I actually enjoyed being gangbanged, even if I could barely walk at the end. My cunt was sore for days.