Summer Help

This story was co-written by Trainman D (Ward Joseph’s Story) and LeasaJ (Heidi’s Story)

Ward Joseph’s Story
Part 1

“Shit, shit, shit!” I exclaimed. My best employee had just notified me that she was going to the hospital for an operation and would be out for at least 2 months. At least, our busiest period was over but she did more, knew more and worked more than the rest of my employees. “Crap, crud and just dammit to hell!” I was still fuming.

“Ward,” Billy said. “Why don’t you run an ad at the college. We can get by with an intern if she takes the load off of us. That should work through the summer anyway.”

I mulled that over. The more I thought about it, the better it sounded. Billy was like a blind squirrel; he would find an acorn once in a while.

That was about 3 weeks ago. I had contacted the college and had sent a letter explaining my business and how I needed a summer intern. I mentioned the pay and the hours and the duties that went with the job.

The college couldn’t promise anything but they said they would post the letter in the student union. I was about to contact an employment agency when I got a call from a woman who said she was a student and was interested in the internship. We made an appointment for the next day.

I don’t know what I expected but what I got was extraordinary! As she entered, I thought, if she can work as good as she looks, I would make her a partner!

This child, yes child, was about 5’8” tall and probably weighed 120lbs. I was wondering if she were English because of her peaches and cream complexion. At this point, I was willing to hire her just to sit around and let me look at her.

She entered my office and put out her hand. “Heidi Jons,” she introduced herself. “I called about the internship.” She looked at me with eyes that were almost blinding in their blue-green color. I was hoping she couldn’t read minds; else I was a goner.

“Ward Joseph,” I introduced myself taking her hand in mine. She shook my hand and then tried to withdraw hers. I held her hand, then took it into my other hand and welcomed her as I would a 9-course meal. “I own the company,” saying that as I released her hand. I pointed out a chair for her to sit in. She demurely pulled her skirt down as far as she could as she sat.

I explained that my company was a small accounting firm that specialized in corporate accounts. We had recently won an award as the best small company in the city. That meant a lot because the company also had won an earlier award for the best minority company. I didn’t really care about the minority part. The BEST award meant that we could look forward to new business.

She listened intently as I tried not to look directly at her body or her face. Her face was beyond description. How about beautiful? How about gorgeous? How about fabulous? How about all 3? I knew that fooling around with the help was bad business practice. I had an office rule that any intimate relationships between employees were frowned upon. I had just made up my mind to violate my own rule, if possible. Being the boss has its perks.

I asked her some questions about her age. She was 21. She was between her junior and senior year at the college. Her major was accounting and she had a minor in education. She lived not far away and could get to work in a short time. While she was speaking, I was working on my game plan. First, I had to discard my refusal to fool with young girls. Next, I had to give up my prejudice against white women. So far, these things were very easy to do.

I gazed at her very frankly. I wanted my look to let her know that I wanted her. I wanted her sexually, totally to be my fuck toy. As a younger man, I had developed a DJ voice that I used when I wanted to soothe a woman’s nerves. I employed that now as I explained her duties and the pay. I got the impression that about halfway through my speech, she had become somehow entranced with my voice. I was hoping so.

Heidi’s Story
Part 1

It all started my last year of college. I was dating the boy of my dreams Tommy Richards. Tommy was all-state quarterback for the football team and we were very close to becoming engaged.

I had been on the cheerleading squad but had to quit because, frankly, Tommy and I needed money to continue living together off campus.

One day while checking the posts in the Student Union building, I noticed one looking for an accounting student to intern at a local CPA’s office.

“Fantastic!” I thought, this may be exactly the break Tommy and I needed. Now I could get a part time job and we could afford the rent, which we were now actually a month behind on.

When I showed up the following day at the office I was surprised to find that the owner was a rather short, paunchy black man...maybe 50 years old. This wouldn’t have been a problem at all except for the way he looked at me. As soon as he came out of his office to greet me, he nearly stopped in his tracks and looked me over. I found it kind of gross.

Regardless of his impropriety, I was determined to get the job—for the sake of my staying with Tommy.

Mr. Joseph took me into his office and pulled his chair out from behind the desk, positioning it right in front of me. He began talking in this phony Barry White type of voice. I thought: amazing...this old black man thinks he is going to seduce me!

Mr. Joseph—he insisted I call him “Ward”—continued to prattle on about the office and how sure he was that I’d be an excellent “fit.” It was crude the way he accented the word “fit” when he said it, but I pretended not to pick up on the lewd message he was delivering.

As our conversation drew on though, I had to admit, I was impressed with his persistence and confident manner. Most boys on campus seemed to get tongue-tied around me. This was definitely not the case with this slight, portly black man. He seemed convinced he could seduce me...and I was both taken slightly back and impressed by it.

As Ward continued to speak to me, as corny as it was, I did start to get slightly taken in by the Barry White routine. He was good at it. I found myself liking the sound of it...somehow it made me feel...ummm...sexy, I guess.

The next thing I knew, Wards black fingers were stroking my leg. I had worn a very short skirt to the interview; I’ll admit it was to impress my interviewer. I now realized that unfortunately, it was having even more than its desired effect. I wished I had worn a pants suit. But now my own lack of business judgment was working against me. I had come to the interview showing myself off, and now this old, middle aged, very black man wanted me to show more—a lot more!

I was about to ask him to please stop what he was doing, but I was honestly afraid it would ruin my chance of getting this job, which Tommy and I needed badly. Several times just as I was about to say something he’d remove his hand, then as the conversation would go on for a while, the fingers would start gliding along my thigh again.

I’m ashamed to say, this old man was arousing me a little. I had never been with a man so self-assured and so aggressive, but subtly so.

Finally, he concluded and offered me the job. A smile played across his thick lips. I’m sure he was feeling very self-satisfied that he was able to play with my legs during the interview without my objecting. He probably read it as my consent to his advances. I didn’t mean it that way at all.

When I left I was angry I hadn’t told him to stop, and wondered why I didn’t. I convinced myself that it was the money—I needed the money—and, after all, it was for Tommy.

I got home and undressed. I was stunned to find my panty hose were damp in the crotch. To be honest, it was very damp. I stared at it for long moments. I held it up and sniffed it. It was my woman’s scent. But...it couldn’t be...that strange, little black man couldn’t...couldn’t ever..have made me...wet?

I got into the shower and as I lathered myself, I felt my body responding tremendously to my touch. My nipples were very hard. I squeezed my breasts and it felt so good. I squeezed them again, much harder and cruder this time. I was becoming very hot and very horny. It had been a long time since I’d felt like this. I loved Tommy, but the sex wasn’t really a part of it. He wasn’t very accomplished. I began playing with my clit. I whispered to myself, “Oh, Tommy.”

I strained in my mind to visualize the man I loved as I leaned along the tiled wall of the shower. My fingers were working furiously at the stiffening bud that was about to provide the strongest release I’d had in months. Then it came, almost with a flash of light. I shivered and moaned. I sank to the flooring of the tub as I continued shivering and quaking with the powerful orgasm. Finally as it subsided my lips whispered something...and it echoed back at me within the confines of the shower.

It was a name...

“Oooooo...Ward.”

I sat in stunned silence, my thighs splayed apart as wide as the tub walls would allow. I couldn’t imagine what was happening to me.

That night I lay in bed listening to Tommy snoring. But I was distracted wondering what I’d wear tomorrow. Should I wear the extra short black skirt, along with my white hose and white shoes with the spiked 4-inch heels?

Suddenly I caught myself.

Why was I thinking about this? What did it matter what I wore? I felt very confused.

The next day—after going back and forth several times—even after putting on my pants suit, I returned again to the short skirt. I took off the pants suit, and almost as if in a strange trance, found myself dressing in the white hose, extra short black mini, and 4-inch heels.

I looked in the mirror...I looked like a sex kitten. Why was I doing this, I wondered?

When I showed up at work Ward was obviously pleased. As short as the dress was that I wore to the interview, the skirt I wore for my first day under his charge was even shorter.

My heart was pounding in my chest. I felt I should know better. What was this over-confident man going to think? Of course, he would assume I was dressing for him. He would think I wore this extra short skirt so he could have a better view of me.

“Was I...?” I wondered.

“Heidi, join me for lunch today,” Mr. Joseph asked me, in a way that was more a command than request.

“Uhhh...well, ok, Mr.Joseph,” I responded, not knowing how I could decline without creating a scene.

Then he leaned over and said softly, “What do you like to eat, sweetheart?”

He knew that statement could be read two ways...and he knew that I knew it too. I played dumb to try to ignore the second possible implication:

“I like just about anything,” I replied, and then cursed myself for having answered so stupidly. My reply could be taken two ways, also. Ward smiled as if he had read my statement in the double entendre he was trying to use with me.

“We’ll see,” he smiled, lewdly. “We’ll see...”

Ward drove me to a very expensive restaurant in his Lexus. He was obviously well off. Surprisingly for this day and age, the sight of an older, black man with a very young, blonde girl still turned heads.

When we exited the car, Ward was the kind of gentleman that has gone somewhat out of style. He opened the door for me and took my hand as I exited. Unfortunately, as we entered the restaurant I felt his hand on the small of my back. I was surprised to find him so bold as to be insinuating his arm behind me, as if I were his date or something.

It annoyed me, but I wasn’t sure how I could stop it without creating an uncomfortable situation with my new boss.

We were escorted to a private table in the back and had a wonderful meal. Ward insisted I have wine before, during, and after the meal. I had drunk nearly 3 of the small glasses. I am not much of a drinker, so I was left feeling a little buzzed.

On the way back to the office, Ward could tell I was slightly tipsy. As he spoke to me he began to touch my knee, soon his hand was placed firmly on it and began to stray upward along my thigh.

I wanted to say, enough. But I was feeling weak and tired from the glasses of wine. Soon, Ward’s hand was confidently stroking my thigh as we drove. The damn skirt I wore was sliding easily upward to my hips. Finally, I placed my hand meekly around Ward’s wrist, as a way of implying I wanted him to stop. But he ignored my signal. His hand continued to stroke my thigh even more boldly, even as my hand enfolded his wrist. Indeed, it now would have appeared to an onlooker as if I were guiding his hand under my skirt and between my thighs.

We drove a few miles and I found myself looking down, stunned to see this old, paunchy black man’s black hand situated between my legs. My thighs were now spread widely apart. To any onlooker I would have looked like a young, blonde whore with her hand guiding an older black man’s up under her skirt and between her wide open, inviting thighs.

Ward was manipulating my clitty through the thin nylons I had on.

“MMmmmm...” I heard him moan lewdly as he felt my wetness spreading over the strained nylons.

“You like that, don’t you, Heidi?”

I could only moan in response. I was very horny and felt very weak under the vile ministrations of this confident black man.

He pulled the car into our work site’s parking lot. He parked in a secluded, reserved spot for his Lexus. Then I felt him grab the back of my neck, and gently, but firmly, begin to push my head down toward his crotch.

I heard him fumble with his zipper, then heard it unzip loudly. As he pushed my head down I could only offer feeble resistance. I felt so weak under the demands of this surprisingly confident, powerful man.

In the back of my mind, I thought of the previous day when I thought his come-on so ridiculous. Now here I was, my pussy hot and wet, with my head being forced down toward his unsheathed cock.

I opened my eyes to find his very fat, very black dick positioned inches from my mouth. He continued to confidently force my head down until my lips were firmly planted on the warm, wet head of the thick, black cudgel.

I felt like crying, but remembered that I was doing it for Tommy. It’s for Tommy I insisted to myself. Then my lips relented, and I took the warm, thick dick into my mouth.

“That’s ‘a’ girl,” I heard Ward Joseph snort.

“Lunch isn’t over yet, girl,” he chuckled to me.

I am ashamed to admit the rest. I just wanted to get it over. I began to bob my head up and down on his thick and rampant organ. I could taste the thick salty seed that was leaking from his dick in the form of precum.

It sounds terrible, but I liked the taste. He tasted wonderful. I was becoming more aroused as I swirled my tongue around his meaty African weapon. He grunted and it made me feel proud that I was giving this older man—whom I once thought ridiculous—all the pleasure I was capable of.

“Faster, bitch,” my black captor demanded. I responded. I began to work his dick, furiously bobbing up and down on it. Occasionally I’d pull my head off of him and lick the around the nozzle of his thick, black, beautiful cock. I even kissed it a few times...then I would devour it again, bobbing and working away at it like a woman possessed. I could hear my own snorting and grunting, as I worked the thick black hunk of meat that Ward offered me from the fly of his pants.

“Gonna get somethin’ to wash down all that meat now, girl,” he groaned.

Then it started. The man I considered a paunchy, old man now unleashed a fount of thick seed into my mouth, the likes of which I’d never experienced before or since. He came...and came...and came...until I had trouble swallowing anymore.

“Don’t you get any on those pants, bitch” he warned, as I coughed and swallowed, choked and swallowed more.

Finally, I felt I was getting full from the excessive loads of cum that my new employer was discharging into my mouth. I felt him grab the back of my hair and lift me off his drained member.

A string of cum hung from my chin. I stared at him and he smiled over at me.

“Well, that was ok for the first day at a new job. But don’t worry Heidi, once you been doin’ this for a few weeks, you’ll get better.”

After fellating my new black boss, Ward Joseph, in the parking lot, I returned to work the remainder of the afternoon.

A large cum stain adorned the breast of my blouse, which the two other co-workers gawked at, having figured out what must have taken place during lunch between the boss and the new intern.

All afternoon, I worked in stunned silence, like a somnambulist, while my new boss casually would ask for my assistance in his office.

“Please take these files and organize them by alpha and date, Heidi,” Mr. Joseph would casually instruct, and then on occasion as I turned to leave with the files, I would get a slight pat to my ass.

A few times his assistant, Billy, saw the pat to my ass and smiled admiringly at Ward, who would smirk back with smug satisfaction; he wanted everyone to know that the young blonde was his—completely!

By the end of the day, I was exhausted and defeated. Ward’s hands were now on my hips, then patting my ass. There was no stopping this dominant, arrogant black employer from having his way with me.

Occasionally I would try to stop his hands, but he would persist and I could see stopping the regular groping of my body was futile. By the end of the day, I no longer tried. At one point, Ward came up behind me at the file cabinet, reached around, and started groping my breasts. He was a little rough in doing it, but, again, I was too weak to stop him now.

Billy came around the corner and witnessed it.

“Excuse me!” he said loudly, with a huge grin beaming across his ebony face. Then he wheeled about and left us alone.

“Please, Mr. Joseph, this has really got to stop. I just want to do my job, ok?” I pleaded to this man who was injecting himself so fully into my life.

“This is your job, Heidi,” he said, firmly, “So get used to it...understand?”

What could I say?

“Yes...yes...sir.”

Then he began rubbing his fat, meaty dick into the crevice of my ass cheeks, and kissed me deeply on the neck.

I moaned. He was making me hot again. I tried to think of Tommy, but then Ward turned me toward him and leaned his face into mine. Our lips met and I realized this brazen black man was kissing me...it was still only my first day at work.

I pushed at him, but he was too strong and held me close. He was actually a few inches shorter than me, so it must have looked ridiculous, this paunchy little black man pulling this tall, young blonde to him...and making her submit.

Rather than wind up wrestling with him, I finally submitted to his lips. I even began kissing him back. My thought was to give him what he wanted and then to get out of there and never return. Forget the money. Everything had gone out of control; I was becoming this horrid man’s fuck toy.

As we kissed, my black employer began trying to insinuate his tongue into my mouth. I resisted, but his damn persistence made him continue to work my lips open. As my lips gave way, just slightly, to his ministrations, his thick tongue slid deeply into my mouth. Both our mouths were now open wide with his tongue playing crudely with mine.

Ward Joseph’s hand now caressed my breast, his thumb rubbing my hardening nipple. I grabbed at his wrist, but this time, I confess, I did little to pull his hand away. My grabbing of his wrist was only to show token resistance to his taking of me. Psychologically, I needed to feel I was at least trying to resist, even as my tongue now played with his willingly.