Breeding My Boss’s Wife
By Natalia Darque
Published by Natalia Darque at Smashwords
Copyright 2012 Natalia Darque
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
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All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblances to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this book is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission of the author.
Chapter One
I slammed the phone down after politely ending my phone call with my customer. I looked up at the wall of my office at the piece of paper hanging to my left. It featured a large circle and instructions underneath for reducing stress.
The instructions were dirt simple. “Slam your head into this circle. Repeat as necessary until stress is relieved, or you are rendered unconscious.”
I was just about to get up out of my chair and proceed to the circle for the prescribed de-stressing, when my cell phone vibrated, indicating that I had a text message. I looked at the screen and saw who it was from.
Gabriella.
“Oh shit!” I thought as I read the message.
Parking Garage. Now.
“Just great!” I muttered to myself as I got up from my desk. I walked past the receptionist, telling her I would be right back. I didn’t expect this to take long. It never did.
I grabbed the elevator, hating myself for the predicament I had gotten myself into. I saw no way out. I punched the button for the lowest level of the parking garage, where Gabriella always parked.
Lost in thought and disgusted with the situation, I snapped to attention when the door chime indicated we had arrived at the lowest level of the parking garage. As the elevator opened, I saw the ass end of Gabriella’s Black Cadillac Escalade in the far corner. The gentle stream of exhaust visibly whooshing out of the muffler indicated the engine was running. I walked toward it. As I closed in, I saw nothing through the tinted windows. I reached out and opened the door handle for the passenger side front door.
“Back seat,” I heard Gabriella’s voice say matter-of-factly the second the door opened.
I closed the front door, and pulled open the rear door handle of the Escalade and swung the door open.
Then I saw Gabriella. I knew at that instant that I would be unable to resist her, just like every other time before.
Her long blonde hair hung down straight and layered. Her body was, simply put, made for sin. She was curvy in every place that a woman should be, and slim and trim in every place that they shouldn’t be curvaceous. Long hours in the gym, and a few visits to plastic surgeons had made her body into the spectacle that caused men to drool at her mere presence.
She was clad in a short, black pencil skirt, with a simple white blouse that made it amply clear she wasn’t wearing a bra. Her nipples stood out like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car. Her legs were long, lean and tanned, capped by a set of four inch heels that accentuated her already tall figure.
Men were drawn to her like a moth to flame, and I was no exception. From our first time together, I was putty in her hands. Furthermore, I knew it and so did she. This was despite the possible terrible consequences, and the friend and mentor I knew I was letting down badly.
“Come inside,” Gabriella purred seductively.
“Hey Gabi!” I said, trying to sound enthusiastic, but knowing what was in store for me. “What’s up?”
“I just came from that fertility doctor,” Gabriella told me.
“So how did it go?” I asked, doing my best to feign innocence. This wasn’t my first rodeo with Gabi. I knew exactly where this was heading.
“I hated it. It’s so… mechanical,” Gabi explained with a pout on her face. “You lay on a table, with this nurse standing next to you, and this door opens.” She paused
“Then you see these two arms pass this silver, gun-looking thing through and the nurse takes it. The next thing you know, this cold thing is shoved up your nu-nu, and…”
She stopped. I was glad. This was getting into the seriously (TMI) or Too Much Information category.
As I sat in the seat next to her, I looked across as she slid the hem of her short skirt up past her thighs. She wasn’t wearing any panties. Her smoothly lasered pussy stood out like a sore thumb, her lips glistening with moisture already.
“What a surprise!” I thought to myself.
“I don’t like that cold thing in my nu-nu,” she told me, moving to where her face was inches from mine.
“I prefer something hot!”
Despite my ambivalence about the situation I was trapped in, I felt my cock stir. Just like it did the very second I saw her for the first time, I knew I was powerless to resist Gabi’s charms. My soul was willing to resist, but my flesh was weak.
Or in my case, damned weak. I felt my cock begin to engorge at the sight of her glistening loins, knowing what promised treasures were waiting for me within.
“I don’t like how those mean doctors do it.” Gabi said. She pulled me close and began unbuckling the belt at my waist. Then I felt her hands expertly, and deftly unfasten the clasp at the waistband of my trousers, and then lower my zipper. Within what seemed like mere nano-seconds, her hands were curled around my cock.
I could keep up an air of indifference if I wanted to. At least outwardly. But when Gabi touched my member, I lost it. I was hers. Whatever she wanted, I was all in (to put in in Texas Hold ‘Em terms).
I felt her guiding me between her legs. Her hands, both shoved between our bodies, were urgently guiding the tip of my member to her eager pussy. I felt the tip of my cock briefly touch against the moisture of her eager entrance.
She gasped. Then I felt her, grasping my cock in both hands, slide it around the wet lips of her loins, and urge it into the slippery folds of her pussy. I felt her heels, still wearing her four-inch “fuck me pumps” clasped under my ass, pulling me into her.
Unable to resist, I sank deep inside of her body. Her dripping wet pussy was waiting for me, and I sank into the hilt in one swift stroke.
I heard Gabi gasp underneath me as I penetrated her fully.
“Oh, that feels so much better than the doctor!” she moaned underneath me. “So hot!”
Absolutely beyond giving a shit, I began thrusting insistently into Gabi’s sodden pussy. With each stroke, she gave out a harsh cry as I skewered her with my turgid member.
“Tell me what you want,” I hissed in her ear as her body began reacting to me.
“Cum inside me!” she urged, her voice coming between gasps as she appeared to approach orgasm.
“Cum inside you?” I asked, as if I didn’t know the answer.
“Why?” I asked.
Gabi was heaving for breath under me as I pistoned my cock in and out of her. She began quaking and I felt her pussy pulsating and quivering as I hammered myself into her over and over. I felt the shocks of the Escalade rocking back and forth underneath us as I rhythmically fucked her.
I saw that Gabi was consumed in an org
asm as she writhed underneath me.
“I want to have your baby!” she barely managed to stutter out as I hammered her relentlessly.
Hearing her words, I lost it. Struggling to restrain my own passion, I lost control and felt the sensations of my own orgasm hit me, hard and fast.
“Oh my god!” I managed to cry out. Then I felt the familiar sensation of my hot seed flowing down the center of my cock and filling the womb of my willing, but forbidden partner.
“Mmmmmmm,” I heard Gabi say as my seed filled her.
“So much better than that frozen stuff,” she moaned in my ear, as my cock quit pulsing.
I lay atop her, with most of my weight held up on my elbows. I heaved for air, almost breathless from the fury of our frantic coupling.
Immediately, as always, I was overcome with a feeling of guilt. I quickly disengaged myself from Gabi as my cock began to soften.
“Gabi, I need to get back upstairs,” I told her. “Jake’s gonna wonder where I am if I stay gone too long.”
Oh, please?” Gabi’s voice came out sounding like a whining little girl. “Stay just a little bit longer?”
“What if Jake comes looking for me?” I asked. The last thing I needed was that. Jake, Gabi’s husband, was also my boss. He would shit a brick if he found me fucking his wife. I would lose my job, my entire career, a great salary, a good boss, and one of my best friends.
Gabi sat up and then moved to straddle my waist. Her lips closed on mine. Her tongue darted between my lips as she kissed me furiously.
“Dammit!” I thought as my cock reacted instinctively. The old adage was true about two things you could always count on. The sun always rises in the east, and a stick prick has no conscience.
Guiding herself atop my rapidly burgeoning cock, I felt it slip slightly inside of her wetness. Then she lunged down on me, filling herself with my now fully erect meat.
“Fuck me again! She whispered urgently. “Fuck me really good!” She began thrusting herself up and down on my cock.
Taking her hips in my hands, I began lifting her up and down on my cock as she rode me, pulling her hard down on my member with each stroke, and listening to her gasp in ecstasy as she furiously rode me.
The Escalade began gently swaying back and forth on its shocks again.
Chapter Two
I snuck back into the office after stopping at a bathroom on another floor of our office building. After checking for telltale signs of lipstick or other dead giveaways, I straightened myself up and returned to my office. I instantly thought back about how I gotten myself into this predicament.
Just out of college, my father was a member of an African Safari Hunting club, where wealthy Dallasites met to swap war stories and share resources for hunting, both in the United States and abroad. Jake Goldman, an aggressive insurance broker was a famous member of this group, and had recently impressed my dad with a presentation he gave about a world record mountain goat he had killed on a safari in a remote part of Kazakhstan. Jake had traveled by plane, train, Land Rover, and finally by donkey to reach the remote area where he shot the goat. Knowing it was a world record class animal, Jake had had it tracked and followed by tribesman for weeks, in preparation for his arrival. He killed it with a single long-range shot from over 500 yards.
After the presentation, my dad introduced himself and made small talk with Jake for a while. He finally ended up mentioning that I was about to graduate with honors with an MBA from Wharton School of Business in Pennsylvania.
“Oh, a Wharton man?” Jake had asked.
“Yeah, his mom and I are pretty proud of him,” my dad answered.
Jake fished a card out of his pocket and handed it to my dad.
“Tell your son to send me a resume. I have some openings I’m looking to fill, and having another Wharton man would be nice.”
“Oh, you have another Wharton grad with your company?” my dad asked.
“Yeah, I do.” Jake held up his class ring from the University of Pennsylvania. “Me!”
So just a couple of days later, I emailed Jake a resume and almost immediately got a call from an assistant in his company scheduling me for an interview just days after I was supposed to arrive back home after graduation.
I arrived at the interview and was ushered in to meet Jake.
“Chris Jenkins, Sir.” I held out my hand in introduction. He took it and shook it firmly.
“Just call me Jake.” His face sported a pleasant smile. “Nobody around here ever calls me sir.”
My dad told me that Jake was an aggressive businessman. Although he allowed himself some extravagances every now and then, he didn’t flash much of his considerable wealth, living in a nice, but not ostentatious neighborhood in Dallas. My dad quipped that since Jake was Jewish, he probably still had 95 cents out of every dollar he had ever made.
His office was Spartan. An elegant, but understated wooden desk was nearly bare, capped only by a desk calendar, a phone, a computer and two pictures. The biggest photo was of a gorgeous, young blonde woman. I could scarcely keep my eyes off of the picture as we talked. I guessed it was his daughter, as she appeared to be just a little older than I was at 23 years of age.
Jake noticed me continually sneaking glances at the picture. He turned it to where I could see it.
“That’s Gabriella,” he said proudly. “My wife.”
I gulped nervously, hoping I hadn’t been too obvious staring at the picture. She was gorgeous. Blonde and with model good looks, she smiled at the camera showing a dazzling white set of perfect teeth. Her body was, simply put, stunning.
I looked back at Jake. He was well into his fifties. She was pretty clearly not out of her twenties.
“My friends at the Safari Club call her my trophy wife,” he said with a grin. I could see why.
He put the picture back on his desk and picked up the other photo. He turned it toward me. It was a picture of a man’s forearm. The arm was tattoed with a number that looked like it contained seven or eight digits.
I looked back at Jake quizzically. I had no idea what I was looking at.
“You don’t know what that is, do you?” he asked.
“No sir… I mean…Jake. I have no idea.”
“That’s a picture of my father’s arm,” he explained. “That number was tattooed on him when the Germans put him in Auschwitz when he was fifteen. He was nearly dead a year later when the Russians liberated the camp. He was part of the crew that removed the bodies from the showers, pulled out the gold teeth, cut off the hair and anything else useful, and cremated the bodies.”
I could only look at Jake in dumbfounded silence.
“I keep that on my desk so that, as a Jew, I’ll never forget,” Jake said, a chill in his voice.
I continued to stare back mutely.
“It also reminds me that I don’t like to take shit,” he continued. His voice carried a slight menacing tone.
“Yes, sir,” I barely managed to stammer out. I decided that this wasn’t the time to call him “Jake.”
Jake continued the rest of what was pretty much a slam-dunk interview, and then stood, shook my hand, and told me he would let me know something soon. “Soon” turned out to be an understatement. The next morning, a Fedex arrived at my dad’s house with a job offer. I excitedly opened the envelope and saw that I was being offered a job with his company as a marketing representative.
My eyes bugged out when I saw the salary he was offering me. I mutely handed it to my dad.
“Jesus!” he exclaimed as he saw the six-figure number.
“Is that in pesos?” my dad quipped. “Congratulations, son!”
That’s how I ended up working for Jake, making a ton of money from the very beginning. But it was only the beginning of my whole story.
Chapter Three
I settled into my new job quickly. I easily got licensed to sell insurance in Texas, and took to the job like a duck to water. Using leads from Jake’s Safari Club contacts, I closed a n
umber of big deals quickly, and made a good reputation for myself very fast.
Just days after starting, I saw Gabi for the first time. She would sashay into the office at times, ostentatiously walking to Jake’s office and make a big production out of kissing him in front of the entire staff. It turned out she wasn’t especially well-liked, especially by the women in the company, who all had her pegged for a gold-digger. If she was, Jake didn’t give a damn. He clearly reveled in having a gorgeous young wife.
After my first few years at the company, I was flying high. Doing extremely well, I settled in with the usual trappings of a successful young businessman. I drove a sleek BMW convertible, and had bought a luxury condo in affluent Addison, Texas, a north Dallas suburb. I did my share of skirt-chasing, and spread lots of pollen around the North Texas area and thoroughly enjoyed the night life.
Jake and I built a really close working relationship. While he was known in the office as a real hardass, I never recall him saying an unkind word to me. I wasn’t sure if this was because he liked me, or if it was just because I was kicking ass. I really didn’t care, although a lot of the other producers in the company were clearly jealous of my success.
Life was going great. I couldn’t have asked for anything else.
Then disaster struck.
Jake called me into the office one day. His face was grim.
“Close the door,” he brusquely ordered. I closed the door behind me and took a seat in one of the chairs in front of his desk, not waiting to be asked to sit down.
“Chris, I’ve got a problem that I need your help with,” he said bluntly.
“Sure thing, Jake. Anything.”
“I have cancer, Chris.”
I could only stare at him in dumbfounded amazement. I had always just viewed him naively as being indestructible.
“Shit!” I muttered the only word that came to my mind at the surprise of his announcement.
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