Welcome to Rolennia Ch. 02

I watched as Simma expertly wheeled the mouse around the spreadsheet, my hand resting lightly upon her shoulder next to a cascade of red hair. I had been working for three months now at the headquarters of Systems International in Yevczich, the capital of the small eastern European republic of Rolennia. Simma was my secretary—in fact she was the main reason I had quit my New York job and hauled my ass almost 4,000 miles to a berg no one I knew had ever heard of. The thing that amazed me is how facile she was with a mouse. It was like an extension of her hand... I had worked with computers for my whole career, but using a mouse just wasn't as second nature to me as it was to Simma. Maybe that's because Simma was just 23, and so she had been using a mouse basically since birth, when she had access to a computer. In a poor formerly Soviet-bloc country whose best-known exports were porn stars, those weren't always easy to come by.

"And zat is how you update ze exchange rate," she explained proudly. Her English was outstanding if accented in a country where not many spoke it.

"Simma, you are amazing. Are yousure you never went to college?"

"Only one University in Rolennia. Top five percent of... how you say, high school? ... get in. I finish six percent. I no have money to go school out of country, so I end up here."

"And am I ever thankful for it," I agreed, kissing the bright red hair on top her head gently.

"Stop it," she purred quietly, not really mad. "If you want kiss, I come in office."

"I'd like to come in my office," I agreed. Simma smiled, understanding my double-entrendre perfectly. She locked her workstation and followed me in, closing and locking the door behind her. I sat in my chair, turned sideways to my desk. Simma came by my chair, rested her hands on my armrests, and kissed me sweetly. Then with a smile, she proceeded to perform her duty... unzipping my pants, she expertly extracted my erect penis and proceeded to go down on me. See in Rolennia, not only does sexual harassment not exist, but secretaries are expected, required even, to attend to all of their bosses' needs—most especially their sexual ones. Being a secretary here can be a 24-hour job--at least it was for Simma, because I had never spent a night in Rolennia where Simma wasn't a welcome guest in my bed. But that is a somewhat unusual arrangement, which is why she didn't want me to kiss her in public. Most of the secretaries never got kissed by their bosses although they were dutifully having sex with them two or three times a day. Whereas most executives would send their secretaries away to sleep in their tiny private rooms on the first floor of the executive living quarters after the last fuck of the night, Simma spent her nights in my king-size with satin sheets, my arm wrapped around her slender waist to ward off the cold. I treated Simma like, well, a girlfriend rather than a sex toy, and I had heard rumors that there was some jealousy among some of the other secretaries because of it.

Simma sucked my dick with her usual mid-day efficiency. By now she knew just the right pace, just the right length of stroke, and just the right delicate spot over which to repeatedly run her tongue, so that she could suck me from zero to climax in just a few minutes. Efficiency was the order of the day when it came to mid-day blowjobs; she generally didn't bother to remove or even loosen any of her clothes--she knew I would take great delight in undressing her at bedtime. She would sometimes complain playfully on days where I was not satisfied with her talented mouth and wanted her body as well, that requiring her to remove clothing and lay down on my desk would put her behind on her work for the rest of the day. So most of the time I just let her suck me dry, marveling at the beautiful face wrapping its lips around my dick, watching her marvelous red hair bobbing in time with her neck.

I liked to rest my hand gently on her head, running my fingers through her hair sometimes, just to maintain connection to Simma the person while she was servicing me. She turned her eyes up towards me, knowing that I would be watching her yet not self-conscious. Our eyes met and gazed softly at each other. We weren't just a randy boss and his dutiful secretary; I felt like I had a relationship with Simma, and the way she looked at me sometimes made me think that she felt at least a little that way, too.

Simma was watching my eyes for another reason as well. She couldn't quite explain how, but she tells me that she can tell in my eyes when I'm about to cum even before she can feel it in my penis. She must be right, because just about the time I feel my nuts seize and start to churn out the spunk, Simma has switched from suck mode to swallow mode. The fast, focused sucking and tonguing is replaced by a slow, gentle movement where the sucks me deep, then twists slightly as the releases me, running her tongue along my length like she is wiping me down. It is almost always in this position that she receives my cum in her mouth. She will repeat this motion three or four times, collecting the sperm in until she feels the spasms end. Then she will release my dick, pool the whole load on her tongue, open her mouth briefly to show the spunk on her tongue, and then swallow it with a decisive, deliberate and incredibly sexy motion. She will open her mouth again to show that it is empty, and then she will take a moment to clean my softening dick, tongue licking it as a cat licks its kitten. While she does this I am usually reaching into the drawer for the breath spray; she knows where it is, but I think it's the least I can do to fetch it for her. When I'm too soft to bother with, she lets my dick fall from her lips and sprays her mouth with the minty freshness before leaning over and sharing a lingering kiss of appreciation.

This pattern may be predictable, but it never gets old. Today, however, there was a departure from the routine because Simma had something she wanted to talk about after the post-swallow kiss. "Do not forget... today all-secretary meet."

"Oh shoot, I did forget," I admitted. "With Ivana?" Simma nodded. Ivana was... the matron you might say of the secretarial corps. A house mother of sorts. She was one of the original secretaries when SI was founded--some say that the whole fucking-the-boss-is-expected thing was her invention, but there's no evidence to back that up. Now 40 something and three kids later, she could still turn heads walking into a room. She was the only female employee at corporate headquarters that did not directly report to a boss for whom she was expected to perform sexual favors. Instead, her job was to oversee the other girls to make sure that they were doing their jobs. If a girl wasn't doing a good enough job satisfying her boss for whatever reason, Ivana was the one to broach the subject. If a girl needed something to please her boss--a sex harness, a nurse's uniform or double-headed dildo--Ivana would get. And if a boss was getting too rough with his secretary and putting her in danger, Ivana would be the one to tell him to cool it or he would lose secretarial privileges. In short, she wielded as much power as my boss did, only in more subtle fashion. "Do you know what it's about?"

Simma shook her head again. "I do not, but other secretary tell me it is probable refresher training." Recruitment and training of secretary's was another of Ivana's jobs. She would find the most beautiful girls in the country and offer them jobs at SI; many had little sexual experience when they started. Ivana made sure her girls were up to whatever advanced kinkiness their jobs may require before placing them with an executive.

"Any idea when you'll be done?" I asked, thinking ahead.

"I not know. You eat without me, yes?" This was another way in which I was unusual. Most cooked for their bosses, then took mealtimes as a rare time off. Simma and I always had dinner together--and usually I cooked, for the simple reason that Simma's cooking was terrible. But I could cook some, and I hated eating along, so it was only natural in my mind that I cook for the both of us. When you're with a girl that's half your age and looks as great as she does, a little cooking is a small price to pay for the tail you get.

Simma went off to her meeting at 3. I hung around the office until 5:30 in case she returned, but she did not. I went home and started dinner, hoping she would be back to eat. When she didn't return I started eating. I was just finishing up at 7:15 when I heard the door open. I got up from the breakfast counter; we met in the middle and hugged. "Wow, that was a long meeting."

"Yes," is all she said.

"Are you hungry? There's food in the kitchen, I'll warm it up for you."

"No I not... well... jus a little please."

"Of course," I smiled and gave her a kiss. But there was something funny, something distracted about her demeanor. I wondered what they had talked about at her meeting as I went into the kitchen to reheat her food.

I came out with her dinner on a plate five minutes later. Simma was sitting in her usual seat at the breakfast bar. I served her and took the seat next to her as I always did. "So what did Ivana want to talk to everyone about?"

"She want everyone get ready for big convention," she said between bites.

"What convention?"

She gave me a funny look. "Mr. Thurman not tell you of convention?" I shook my head. "Rolennia Business Exposition. Rolennia is not big country--all big business man and government go to convention. They talk, deal get done--they say you not can operate in Rolennia if you not shake right hands at convention. Maybe give bribe too, I don know."

"That's interesting--no, I hadn't heard about it." But then I thought "so why was Ivana talking to YOU about it."

"Convention... not so much about business as is fun for business man? Lots of drink... lots of sex... all businessman bring secretary to convention. Then maybe he make trade to have sex with each other secretary, or maybe share..." My anxiety spiked immediately. I was not about to share Simma with anyone. "Ivana say is like orgy for three day. Many time secretary get offer new job after convention. If girl now job not so big pay, is good opportunity to move up. But SI is pay very well; we not want very much to get new job. So instead we host."

"What does that mean?"

"We work... like serve drink, greet guest, thing like so. So we maybe not have so much sex as most girl, but Ivana want we train in case. Is up to boss."

"What is up to your boss?"

"Dey tell us convention rule: no one touch other man secretary without permission. So is up to you if you want I have sex with other man or no."

"Not for you, Simma," I declared. "I don't care if the Prime Minister asks, I'm not sharing you with anybody!"

She smiled almost condescendingly and gave me a peck on the cheek. "You sweet man Marteen. I know you mean well. But is important to play by rule or maybe lose job. And if you lose job, I lose job. You not want that, I not want that. Is no big deal, have sex with other man sometime. Is just one day."

I paused, thinking. Yes, Simma and I had much more of a relationship than any other boss and secretary at SI, but her response reminded me that ultimately that was still what we were. I really had feelings for her, and while I liked to think that when we snuggled in bed after sex she had feelings for me too, the fact is that even after three months together I couldn't say for certain that she would have anything to do with me if it weren't her job. I could tell she didn't relish the idea of having sex with a stranger, but she had this resignation that that might be what is required--I'm sure that's how she first felt about me, too. I hoped that she didn't still... but I really didn't know. "I don't see why I would even be going to this thing. I work entirely with people inside the company; why should I go meet these people when I won't see them again anyway? I'll tell Tom I shouldn't go to the conference--and if I don't go, you won't have to go either, will you?"

She chuckled. "System International host of conference. ALL staff go to conference in some way. You want HOPE you go as guest, or else you will go as worker. Is better to be guest I think." I frowned... there must be some way. Simma changed the subject, sort of. "Even if I not go, I must still do training."

"Do training? You mean you aren't done? You have to go back for more?" I was really anxious now.

"Maybe. Is depend." She started to get the confident swagger in her voice when the topic of conversation turned to sex.

"Depends on what?"

"Is depend on if I show I not need training... because I already know how..."

"Ahh," I said, catching on to her suggestion. "So if you can prove that you are already doing it with me, you don't need to go back training." She nodded her head like a woman with a secret. "Is that the way you would rather do it?" Now I was the one teasing.

She flashed her eyebrows at me. "I MUCH rather you train than Ivana." I could tell she meant it.

"And just what do I need to do?"

She didn't answer, but bit her lip in a sexy schoolgirlish way. She slid off the chair, turning her backside in my direction. She thrust her butt out, then slowly and sensually hiked up her miniskirt. I watched with great interest, although I hadn't caught on to where this was leading yet. I saw the tiny thong she usually wore... only something was funny about the way it lay... loose-like, not tight to the crack. But Simma didn't stop... as I pondered what was different, she sensually pulled the strip of fabric to the side. Something bright red and plastic was somewhere it didn't seem like it ought to be. It took me a minute to figure out what it was. "Is that... a butt plug?"

She smiled over her shoulder with a twinkle in her eye, continuing to show me her ass. "How long have you been wearing that?"

"Since start of meeting... two three hour maybe."

I couldn't imagine sitting through a two hour meeting with a plug stretching my asshole. I also couldn't imagine starting a meeting by giving every attendee a butt plug and expecting them to put it to immediate use--but I'd like to be given a chance to try. "Wow... well I'd sure love to help with your, uh, training, but I'm not exactly an expert."

"Is not so difficult. I have train before." I imagined she did--I'm sure that before they let her audition for the secretary gig, Ivana made sure she could take one up the ass. I could just picture her with a big black strap-on... the possibility hadn't come up between us before, however. I guess I couldn't blame her for not volunteering that information.

"So you've been prepared to have anal sex with me from the beginning?"

She turned around, wrapping her arms around my neck with an I-have-a-secret smile. "I tell you from start, I do anysing you want I do..." and then she kissed me. My hands fell to her slender waist, naturally, comfortably; I had gotten quite used to holding Simma close, in a good way. But it was not lost on me that she was the one that initiated this kiss. Oh we kissed a lot, but I was always the one to initiate, except for sometimes right after she had an orgasm. The only other time I distinctly remembered her initiating a kiss was when I was interviewing for the job, and she was doing her best to seduce me in order that she could get this coveted secretary position. The fact that I was here in Rolennia was testament to her power of persuasion... although I wondered sometimes if it would have changed her mind if she had known in advance that I would want her by my side 24 hours a day.

The kiss ended; Simma flashed her eyes at me dreamily. "I not know, maybe is too early go to bed?" she purred.

"Oh no. I'm quite ready to go to bed now..." I growled lustily, kissing her again. I was already hard--not so much from the prospect of exploring Simma's ass as from the fact that she was the one initiating the festivities. I suppose there wasn't much need for her to--I called her into my office when it was time for our fuck-break at work, and at home it was understood that bedtime meant sex time. Unless I wanted it sooner, in which case I initiated that too. Here was a situation where she wanted to get things started, however, and so she was doing the fire-starting--and I was LIKING it.

Simma took my hand and we sojourned to the bedroom. But then Simma gently took my shoulders and sat me down on the bed. She stood before me confidently and unbuttoned her suit jacket. She slipped if off her shoulders and tossed it aside. Then she knelt before me, reaching for my belt with a twinkle in her eye. I lifted my butt off the bed slightly so Simma could slide my pants off. She folded them quickly and laid them aside, then pulled off my boxer briefs and socks, leaving me in just my dress shirt. Her eyes looked up at me knowingly as she bent over, opened her lips, and started caressing my cock with her tongue. She knew exactly how I liked to be sucked.

If I live to 100, I will never grow tired of feeling Simma blow me. For one thing, she had, like, different styles for different occasions. This afternoon was the no-nonsense blow job, steady and intense in order to achieve orgasm as quickly as possible and get back to work. But tonight, she was doing my favorite style. Her lips caressed the skin as my dick slid between them; her tongue teased my tip relentlessly, but her pace was slower. The result was to excite my penis to its absolute breaking point, and then maintain that level of arousal for as long as she chose to. She would sometimes stroke my balls or vary it up with the occasional deep-throat, but most it was concentrated pleasuring of my most sensitive spots. All she would have needed to do was pick up the pace a little and in no time she would have a mouthful of spunk, but that is precisely why she didn't. It was the perfect foreplay prelude to any other sexual activity, because it made my cock as hard as a frigging iron bar.

I loved to watch Simma's pretty, youthful face swallowing my cock, loved to see her red hair bobbing in time with her neck. As she sucked me tonight, she was simultaneously unbuttoning her blouse at a deliberate pace. I watched as more and more of her pale, lightly freckled skin became visible with each button. Familiarity did nothing to reduce the anticipation of seeing it again.

The last button undone, Simma stripped the blouse slowly from her shoulders and laid it aside. Her head was down, concentrating on sucking my cock the whole time. Then she unhurriedly reached behind her to release the strap of her black lace bra and slipped that off as well. I smiled slightly to myself as my eyes could feast on the sight of her young, firm breasts, standing out proudly in defiance of gravity. Like a stripper, she pinched her own pale nipples lightly between her thumb and forefinger then rubbed the length of her forearm across the, making sure they were excited and erect although it appeared to have been wholly unnecessary. Ahh... I felt myself get just a tiny bit harder, like from iron to steel, because although she could suck me off out of sight under a table (I can say that for a fact), my favorite way to watch her blow me was when I could watch and fondle her bare breasts as well.

Simma wasted no time moving from her buttons to mine, head still down and bobbing up and down on my Johnson. I watched, appreciatively, feeling this slight sense of surrealism I often felt watching her suck my dick. A woman nearly half my age, beautiful as a movie star, sucking like a porn star and it was my dick in her mouth--sometimes it was hard to believe that this was real life and not a fantasy dream.

Simma's eyes gazed up at me, wondering if something was wrong. Normally when she sucked me topless I held and fondled her breasts in my hands at the same time. I smiled at her gratefully, then gently ran the fingers of one hand through her hair. Reassured I just wanted to vary it up a little, she focused again on my cock and sucking me.