Finding the Whore Within

I would like to thank celafille for inspiration and feedback on this story. It's a little different from my other stories, but different is good, yes? Let me know what you think.

*****

She struggled to keep her composure as she sat waiting on the uncomfortable chairs that lined the hall. She was the last to be interviewed; a stream of young men and women had once filled the hallway, each in turn being called into the office ahead of her. Each leaving, some looking relieved, others muttering to themselves. None looked exceptionally confident.

When they called her name her heart leapt. She wanted this job so desperately. She stood, smoothing her pencil skirt by running her palms over her thighs. She took a deep breath, repeated to herself the words of her mentor. "Be confident, be positive, smile." But at that moment she didn't feel confident, at that moment she felt smaller than her petite 5'3" frame, she felt younger than her 20 years. Still she managed to walk confidently into the room and close the door behind her.

She forced her best smile and extended her hand, "Hello, I'm..."

"Laurie Eagleton," the man behind the desk said, not looking up at her, his nose, instead, buried in what must have been her file, "Take a seat."

She was thrown by his lack of warmth, troubled that he didn't bother to shake her hand. But obediently she sat in the chair in front of his desk, trying her best to keep a good posture, chin up, knees together, hands folded awkwardly in her lap. She could never figure out what to do with her hands.

He put her folder down and looked at her for the first time. He was attractive, she thought, older certainly, mid 30s. His brown hair had just the beginnings of a few touches of grey. He ran his hand over his chin thoughtfully as he looked her over, and gave a half smile.

"I've read your resume," he began, "and it's very impressive, but truthfully, I don't want to hire you for this job."

Her heart sank, and her mouth opened as if to speak but nothing came out. She fought back the tears from frustration and anger and disappointment. He hadn't even asked her a single question. How could the interview be over so quickly?

He stood up and walked around until he was directly in front of her. Leaning back against the heavy oak desk, he folded his arms and looked down at her gauging her reaction.

"But," she finally managed to say, "But I waited all day. You didn't even ask me a question." Her voice was breathless as if she had been running for a long time.

"I know," he nodded his head, "I've seen you there, all day, every time my door opened to interview another applicant. Sometimes your legs would be crossed, sometimes not. Sometimes you played with your phone, sometimes not. Anxiously waiting your turn." Here he chuckled to himself, "I even moved your file down in the stack so that you'd be at the end."

"But why," she almost begged, "if you weren't going to hire me?"

"Well," he said, "there are two reasons. The first is that my colleague in another office has a job that you're much better suited for based upon your resume. I've already lined that job up for you. This position would be a waste of your obvious talents, and my friend has agreed to take you on, at my word." He handed her a business card. "Call him when you leave here, he'll give you the details."

She stared blankly at the card, not really taking in its content. She looked up at him, her mouth crooked with confusion.

"Like I said, there are two reasons," he began again. "You see, I've been watching you all day. The way you hold yourself, your posture, the way you wet your lips with your tongue whenever your name wasn't called. And each time that door opened, I'd flip back to your profile, get a better sense of you, there's something..." he trailed off. "Something different about you."

She wasn't sure where he was going with this, but she suddenly felt very aware of the fact that it was past 5 pm and the two of them were alone in his office. She fidgeted in her chair, looking over her shoulder at the door and then back to him.

"You see," he said standing straight and taking a step toward her until he towered over her, "I'm a man of principle. And if you came to work for me, well that wouldn't be good at all."

Staring up at him she said in a small voice barely above a whisper, "Why not?"

"Because I don't fuck my employees, and I am going to fuck you."

The words dazed her, but not just the words, the confidence, the authority. He said it as if she had no say in the matter, or at least as if he already knew that he excited her, that mixed in with fear and anxiety over the interview and the situation was a tingle of a sexual charge that was growing.

Still she felt she had to get away. Standing with an intent to leave, she found that he hovered so close to her that in moving to get away she had inadvertently moved closer to him, her small chest brushing against his torso.

Her eyes looked up at him; her expression hovered between insistence and helplessness. He gave no ground, and when she reached out her small hands and touched his waist, her intent had been to push him aside so she could leave, but instead she lingered.

His hands took her by shoulders and held her firmly, but not forcibly, the way one may hold a egg, knowing how fragile it is. There was power in his touch, and it coursed through her body like the stunning shock of an electric eel.

As he lowered his lips to hers, she told herself she had no choice, that she was pinned and helpless, but that could only explain why he was kissing her, it would never explain satisfactorily why she was kissing him back, or why it was her tongue that ventured out in search of his. His hands moved up her neck from her shoulders, until he cupped her face in them as he kissed her.

"Take off your blouse," he said into her mouth as they kissed. And without hesitation her slim fingers began undoing buttons.

She could sense him smile at her obedience and she hated herself for it. She had read stories of women who longed to be taken by a man in control and never thought herself to be one. But now, in the midst of being taken by such a man, something instinctual took over, her unconscious desires betrayed her, and she was his willing conquest.

When her blouse was unbuttoned, he slid the silk material down her shoulders, just to her elbows, but then stopped and roughly twisted the fabric behind her, binding her arms. She whimpered at her helplessness, but did nothing, shouted nothing to protest.

His free hand went to her small breasts that were still encased in the lacy material of her bra. He guessed rightly that it was a front clasp, and with a dexterity that spoke to years of experience taking young women, opened the clasp and exposed her chest.

Taking a firm grip on a soft mound of flesh, he found her hardened nipple with his thumb and forefinger and rolled it until it was harder still. She whimpered into his mouth, her breasts and nipples being especially sensitive.

"You moan like a whore," he whispered before plunging his tongue back into her mouth, stealing any chance to reply. His tongue parted her lips just as his finger twisted her nipple harder, making her whine again to demonstrate his comment.

"My god," she thought, "am I really so easy that I let a man I just met..." her thought interrupted as he gave her nipple another twist, and a mix of pain and pleasure shot through her young body and she melted into another moan.

He released her with his hands, letting her shirt finally fall completely away. Taking hold of the back of her neck he said, "I want to see how good you are with your mouth." He gave a gentle downward pressure on her shoulders and without question or resistance she sank to her knees in front of him until she was eye level with his zipper.

Her eyes darted up to his, a mix of anxiety and expectation. She'd only ever given one blow job in her young life and she didn't know how to proceed. She didn't want to embarrass herself by revealing her inexperience, so she waited for him to tell her what to do.

"Go ahead," he smiled down at her, bemused by her naiveté, "undo my pants." She hesitantly reached her slender fingers for the clasp of his trousers. She fumbled a bit, but once undone, his zipper fell easily. She could see the bulge in his boxer briefs as his pants fell away and without thinking she reached out and rubbed her palm along it, feeling his cock grow beneath the fabric.

She hesitated, not sure whether to slide his underwear off, or reach her hand into the flap. Her cheeks reddened at her own embarrassment for not knowing. Luckily he reached down himself, pushing his boxer briefs down just low enough to free his cock, which now stood mostly erect mere inches from her mouth.

She reached out and took hold of his cock. It already felt so much bigger than the other boys she had touched. Maybe this man was special, or maybe men's cocks grew bigger as they reached middle age. As she began to slowly run her hand over him, she realized how little she actually knew about men.

He reached down and stroked her hair, but at the same time gave her firm guidance to bring her mouth to his cock. He wasn't forcing her, exactly, but he was tired of waiting for her lust to overcome her inexperience. She drew closer, opened her mouth wide, and took the mushroom shaped head into her mouth.

He tasted salty already. Was that precum? She had only given one blow job before but she had insisted the guy not cum in her mouth. Now as she slowly worked her head back and forth over just a few inches of his thick cock, she was consumed by the thought that she was tasting his cum, or precum anyway. What was the difference after all? It was on her tongue, she was swallowing it.

She almost cried as she thought about how slutty she must seem, to be so easily taken. Almost cried, because in the end every time she thought the word; slut, whore, tramp, harlot, a jolt shot through her and she could feel herself become slick. So she kept going.

Suddenly she felt his hand entwine in her hair. Her mouth still full, her eyes shot up and met his as he gazed down in lust at her. She could feel the strength in his hand and hips as he began pushing more of his cock into the wetness of her mouth. She opened wider, trying to accommodate him. Trying to please him.

She moaned and the vibration shot through him and made his cock grow fatter between her lips. She wasn't blowing him anymore, he was simply fucking her mouth, impatient with her hesitation. His hips found a fluid motion and she let her hands fall to her side, giving herself over to being used.

Then there was a knock on his office door, her eyes went wide and she tried to pull her mouth off of him, but her pushed deeper into her mouth and held her there, his strength too much for her.

"Yes?" he called out, his cock pulsing deep in her mouth and she made little moans and squeals around it. This was his office, and he'd do as he wished without concern for propriety, just as her body was now his to do with as he pleased.

The door opened. An attractive young women Laurie recognized as the receptionist stepped in. She looked over the scene before her, a wide eyed Laurie, topless, mouth stretched on her bosses cock. The receptionist smiled an almost purred at the sight.

"My, Mr. Reeves, you sure know how to pick 'em," she said with a condescending look toward the girl on her knees. For his part, Mr. Reeves, began moving his hips again so that his cock ever so slightly began sliding over Laurie's lips.

"What is it, Liz?" he said, his voice a little breathless and slightly irritated.

"I just wanted to see if you needed anything before I head home for the weekend," she smiled wickedly, "But I see you're being taken care of."

Laurie felt so small, so whorish. This other woman's gaze proved it. Laurie was just another girl who reeked of unfulfilled desire, an easy mark for the boss to take charge of and use. She would never have imagined that morning that she would be getting her mouth fucked by a man she just met while someone else watched. But here she was, doing just that.

"No," Mr. Reeves grunted as he pumped his cock in and out of the young woman's mouth, "I'm good."

The receptionist moved closer until she bent over bringing her face close to Laurie's, "She is cute." Looking up at Mr. Reeves she continued, "Kinda slutty though. What? You just met her about 20 minutes ago?"

Another moan from Laurie which meant to say, "I am NOT a slut, this is only my second blow job." But the message was lost as her new lover fucked her mouth like it was a whore's cunt.

"She was a bit easier than most," Mr. Reeves admitted. "Maybe I'm getting better at picking them."

Liz walked behind her boss, put her arm around his chest and whispered in his ear, "One day, I'm going to quit just so you'll let me join in."

Laurie felt the assault on her mouth become more urgent, she even thought she could feel Mr. Reeves' cock swell. But naïve as she was, these signs weren't understood by her. The vastly more experienced Liz, however, could tell just by feeling the rise and fall of her boss's chest knew what was about to happen, and she whispered again into his ear, "Go ahead, cum in the little tramp's mouth."

Just then Laurie encountered the warm saltiness of her first mouthful of a man's cum. He had pressed deep into so she had no choice but to try to swallow, especially since he held her head firmly in place with both hands. Quickly though she was overwhelmed, and while she swallowed what she could, the mass of his second third and fourth eruptions overflowed her lips and drooled down her chin, falling onto her exposed breasts.

Having emptied himself into her mouth, he released her and fell back against his pretty receptionist, who wore a devilish grin of satisfaction and arousal. She kissed his neck playfully, before letting him go and again approaching Laurie.

For her part, Laurie was a cum covered mess. She fell back on her folded legs, gasping for breath after Mr. Reeves basically tried to drown her. Liz, leaning down, put keeping her distance from the wet and sticky girl, reached forward and with her index finger collected a big dollop of her bosses seed from Laurie's chin, and then shoved her finger into the younger woman's mouth.

Not know what else to do, Laurie cleaned her finger, and cleaned it again when Liz repeated the action, feeding the applicant her bosses cum one finger full at a time. When Laurie's face was shiny, but mostly clean, Liz leaned in and kissed her deeply, letting her tongue replace her finger in Laurie's mouth, tasting her boss by proxy.

With both Mr. Reeves and Laurie still regaining their composure, Liz stood up, smiled at her boss, and licked her lips. "Now," she said, "I have to go find someone to fuck me, since you won't. Stupid workplace rules." And she left.

Mr. Reeves laughed to himself. "That was Liz," he said evenly, "One day, if you're good, I'll let you lick her pussy. Just because I can't touch her, doesn't mean you can't."

Laurie was almost in a daze, she only half realized what he had just said and began to protest, "But..."

"Stand up and take off your skirt," he said authoritatively as he cut her off. He knew what she was going to say. She wasn't a lesbian. So what? She was submissive, and Liz would dome the fuck out this young girl. But not today, today she was all for him.

Laurie stood slowly, the sensation of the semen slowly drying on her chest just reinforced the idea that she belonged to this man she only just met. Again she lied to herself, making excuses for why she was undoing the buttons on the side of her skirt, why she was slowly sliding it down her legs, why she was suddenly glad that her mother encouraged her to wear stockings instead of pantyhose.

He smiled at the revelation of her sexy under garments. She had been taught well by someone, almost prepped to please. "Sit in the chair," he told her, and she did, demurely, her body angled, her knees together.

"No," he shook his head, "not like that. Spread your legs." She obeyed, but felt awkward. "Wider," he commanded again, and she leaned back in the chair and tried her best to oblige.

"Better," he said as he walked toward her. With her legs spread like this she could tell how wet she was, and it excited her to know that he wasn't done using her petite body. And even though it might have been obvious to someone more experienced, she was surprised, and a little bit terrified, when he fell to his knees between her outstretched legs, and kissed her upper thigh just above the black of her stocking.

Her immediate reaction was to close her legs, which she did, only to momentarily trap his head between them. He could smell her wetness with her sudden movement, as if she had fanned her scent toward him. He took hold of her knees and pressed her legs firmly apart.

"Has no one tasted you?" he asked. She looked down at him, her eyes locked onto his, and in the most deviously innocent way bit her lower lip and gave her head a slight shake, "no." He felt his spent cock twitch at both the sight and the thought of being the first tongue on her.

He kissed her thigh again. Close enough this time to feel the fabric of her lacy panties against his cheek, rough with shadow at the end of the day. He rubbed his cheek into her and she mewled like a kitten at the attention.

He then moved to cover her panty clad pussy with his mouth, teasing her with the barrier between his tongue and her clit. She moaned deeply, but half out of anxiety. Would she like it? What if he didn't like her taste? At this point she couldn't stand rejection.

With the deftness of experience, he nudged her thong to the side with his nose, still holding her shaking legs wide apart. She felt his breath on her lower lips and shivered. She even bucked her hips unconsciously, trying to close the gap between her pussy and his mouth.

He closed the small gap between her waiting pussy and his mouth, and planted a simple closed mouth kiss on the young woman. She had been expecting so much more that it confused her and for a moment she lost her anxiety. It was then that his tongue rolled out and parted her pussy with a long, slow, electrifying lick that made her gasp into the empty air of his office.

He knew what he was doing, even if she didn't quite understand what to expect. He flicked his tongue over her swollen clit and she whimpered, then another long slow lick. She reached down and ran her fingers through his hair and tried her best to push herself against his mouth, but whenever she pushed up, he backed away in the most infuriating way.

She all but wept with frustration, and he smiled at the sound.

As he continued his torturous alternating between licks and flicks, he released her legs and let them settle over his shoulders as he feasted on her.

"Oh god," she cried out, "I never knew..." the thought trailed off into a high pitched squeak followed by a long slow moan.

At this point he settled in, sealing his mouth over her cunt, he moaned in delight as he adopted a repetitive circle over her clit, punctuated every now and again by his tongue taking a detour deeper into the folds of her flesh.

She thrashed wildly and bucked against his mouth, a mess of whines and moans building in intensity. He reached up over her body and fondled her breasts. Twisting her nipples, mixing a slight bit of pain into her pleasure.

As his mouth was fixed over her cunt, his eyes were fixed on her face. She was such a pretty girl, but the contorted expressions his tongue now inspired revealed her for the sexual entity she was. He had broken through that innocent church girl expression and found a depth of desire.

He knew she was close, and he debated whether to let her cum against his tongue like this. Her breathing became erratic, her moans more desperate. He gave in to her body's needs if only because he wanted to watch this young woman cum, truly cum, for the first time in her young life.