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CHAPTER ONEGilbert Morrison was proud of his business. He'd been in the garment district in New York City for most of his lifetime. His father had come there as a young man. Gilbert had decided to stay on.He was pleased with the opportunities that his Seventh Avenue garment company offered. He had an excellent designer who had scored with many winners year after year at the fashion shows. This always brought him so much business that he knew he had to expand. He was waiting for his son Greg, who was in his mid-twenties.Greg came home from college following summer school and was ready to start in the fall. His father took him around the office. The moment Greg saw a stylish-looking, red-haired secretary, he was excited.Gilda Clancy was his father's private secretary and she looked at Greg with an expression that indicated she might like to go to bed with him."You've got a nice secretary, dad," he commented."Yes, and I don't want you getting friendly with the employees," he reminded his son. "It's bad business."He walked into the next office and was pleased and surprised to see his name plate. There it was on the front of the desk, GREG MORRISON."I told you, you'd have a job waiting for you," his father enthused.He pressed a buzzer and a beautiful but shy blonde came in. She looked to be about twenty-five and the long, blonde hair that fell around her shoulders, complemented by her soft blue eyes and shapely figure, indicated to Greg he was very fortunate to have such a super-looking secretary."This is my son, Greg," Gilbert introduced him proudly, "and this is your secretary, Betty Richards."Betty came over and extended her hand in warm friendship."I'm so pleased to meet you, Greg," she told him. "Your father has said so many good things about you.""I'm glad to hear that," Greg nodded. "He usually is telling me I'm doing something wrong."Gilbert didn't like his son saying that."Thank you, Betty," he nodded, indicating she should leave the office.Once she'd stepped out, he shook his head."Son," Gilbert began, "I don't want you confiding anything in the people around here. If you would learn to keep your distance, it would be better for everyone concerned. And I don't like the way you looked at that secretary of yours. Maybe I should have gotten an older woman.""Oh, no, she'll do just fine," Greg flashed a knowing smile.His father made a phone call and then showed him around the offices of the Morrison Fashion Center on Seventh Avenue.When the day was over they went to The Top Of The Six's and had dinner. Vividly they recalled the first day that Greg had gone to college. His mother smiled, "You didn't know what you wanted to do then. But your father and I thought business would be the best course for you to take. I'm so glad that you finally agreed with us."Greg was pleased, too. that his parents were excited over his new career."A toast to all of us," Gilbert suggested, raising his champagne glass for the occasion.As they dined together, Greg looked out over the magnificent panoramic view of the lights of the city of New York. He was thinking. Somewhere out there in the night, that beautiful blonde secretary that he had observed in the afternoon, was no doubt having herself a ball at some uptown disco. He wished that he could be with her. Sure, he enjoyed dining with his folks, but his mind was on Betty.The following day when his father wasn't around, Greg walked over to Betty and got better acquainted with her."You're a nice girl, Betty," he told her. "What do you do when you quit working? All work and no play...."She looked up at him with little interest."I get around," she told him. "I go to fashionable parties and discos. But I have a boyfriend."He looked at her and asked anxiously, "Are you going steady?"He could be witty and charming as the occasion demanded."No," she told him. "What difference does that make to you?""All the difference in the world," he smiled.Just then a designer came in."I'm Caesar," he smiled, "and your father wants me to meet you. We're making dresses for the beautiful people, aren't we?"For a second Greg looked at Betty. Betty Richards looked up at him. Instantly she looked away. There was something about Greg Morrison's penetrating brown eyes that gripped her."The beautiful people buy our line," he commented. "Morrison Fashion Center Clothes, with designs by Caesar."Caesar carried some new dresses on his arm. He held them up proudly."These are my latest creations."Greg couldn't help it. He cut loose."As far as I'm concerned," he told him, "that stuff looks like a Goodwill sale."Caesar was beside himself with anger."This is a two-hundred-dollar pantsuit," he said angrily, "and this represents a three-hundred-dollar dress."Betty Richards broke in quickly. She had the self-assurance and sophistication to handle a delicate, awkward situation like this, and did so instantly."Yes," she exclaimed breathlessly, "Caesar has done wonders for your father. As a matter-of-fact, Morrison Fashion Center Clothes jumped fifty percent in business last year, with Caesar's designs."Caesar almost fluttered his eyelids as he looked at her."Some people around here appreciate me. There's true communication with you, Betty. I'm sorry."He was about to bow and take off when Betty stopped him."Caesar," she quipped, "get off your high horse. Greg is new to this business. Remember, your first day in the business? You didn't have the assurance that you do now. So relax. Actually, Greg," she continued, "some of these clothes can look quite glamorous on the right model."Greg shrugged."I guess it's not my job to judge what the public wants," he admitted candidly. "I'm supposed to look at the business end of it. And Caesar, if your designs produce results like Betty Richards claims, no wonder my father talks about you so highly."Having used a little psychology on him, pleased Caesar."It's wonderful to be appreciated," he nodded as he turned and left the room.Heaving a sigh, Betty Richards tried to explain to her young, handsome, new boss what his failings were in a tactful manner."I don't like to tell you how to run your. business," she said quietly, "but designers have been known to be tempera mental. Even though you may find some of their designs ridiculous, if they sell-that's what counts. Isn't that the bottom line?"Turning around, Greg Morrison took a look at Betty's beautiful bottom."Yes," he admitted. "What are you doing for dinner tonight?""Oh, I'll have one big evening in a beautiful restaurant," she told him. "That is, if I go out with...."She left her sentence dangling in mid-air, giving Greg an opportunity to interject, "You're going out with me.""Am I?" she smiled.Coming over to her, Greg wrapped his arms protectively around her."If I have anything to say about it, yes," he told her quickly. "I know a wonderful place where we can be tonight. There's a restaurant where we can have a tremendous view of Manhattan. I was there last night with my parents. But you haven't seen the light of New York until you've seen it with....""Don't get carried away, Greg," Betty warned him. "I know the pressures of your job are great. But you'll handle it."That afternoon he reminded her that he wanted to pick her up at seven."All right," she agreed, giving him her address.Seven o'clock that night Greg Morrison drove around her apartment. She lived in the high Fifties. He stopped at Third Avenue and Fifty-Third Street and spotted the apartment. There she was, standing waiting for him.His eagerness to get there quickly almost overcame his better judgment as he gunned the engine and drove over to where she was standing."Do you always drive like that?" Betty asked as she opened the car door and slipped in beside him."When I'm picking up a beautiful girl like you ... yes," Greg grinned, as he revved the engine and took off.He drove to a small French restaurant in Greenwich Village. He figured it would be the type of place that she would like. , "I thought we were going to The Top Of the Six's," she reminded him."I thought it would be nicer to come here instead," he said as he let the boy take the car in the parking lot.The front of the restaurant had a long, dimly lit bar and a few small tables. The back of the restaurant was quaint and did look almost as if it had been transplanted from the Left Bank. A man was sitting at a piano and singing a soft French ballad. A fireplace in the corner cast its glow around the room."I like little places like this," she agreed.Once they were seated, the waitress came over and took their order for drinks. Greg insisted on buying her a good vintage wine. Sipping their wine slowly, he was electrified by the beauty of the blonde seated near him. All the while he was thinking ... thinking about the problems that he had encountered earlier in the day with Caesar."Thanks for saving me today," he told her as he patted her hand affectionately."I knew you didn't mean what you were saying," she told him. "You just aren't used to the fashion world yet. But you will get used to it. It's actually a lot of fun."As the pianist began playing a French melody that Greg remembered from the time that he was in Paris, he looked at Betty with lustful eyes. There was a softness and sweetness about her and that excited him. But it was apparent that she was not eager for seduction. For when he pressed his legs against hers, she pulled away."Why did you do that?" he asked her.The beautiful dress that she was wearing encased her bosoms magnificently. Greg could see the sweet innocence on her face and it bothered him that he was getting so hot for her body, as he might be driving down a dead-end street."I know you're the boss," she told him frankly, "but that doesn't mean you can take liberties with me."He sat there as casually and unobtrusively as possible and simply stared at her. She was not at all what he had in mind for tonight. He figured she would go to bed with him. She wasn't the haughty, aloof or high-fashioned type. She was, however, a working girl who knew her way around New York. And she was confident of herself. So confident, in fact, that she figured it was worth sacrificing anything to preserve her innocence.When the waitress came and took their order for dinner, Greg pulled his leg from Betty's and was careful not to let her know for an instant what he felt. None the less, she understood completely."Am I a disappointment to you?" Betty asked when they had finished their dessert."No," he told her. "I just wanted to know about you. I'm glad we were out tonight. For example, I didn't know that you once thought of going to business college, too. And you decided instead to take a secretarial course. You see, we actually both learned something tonight."Once they were in the car driving back to her place in the Fifties, he made a pitch for her."Would you like somebody to stay overnight with you ... to protect you?"Betty shook her head slowly."That's real nice of you, Greg," she assured him, "but I prefer sleeping alone. Thanks, but no thanks."He lit a cigarette and turned on the car radio."I wonder if you always turn down the boss. Did my old man ever try to put the make on you?"Betty didn't say anything now. She was silent."I'm not gonna talk about you or what you asked me," she finally explained, "so I don't think I should talk about anything your father has said to me."Greg couldn't help but admire her. At least she was being as honest as she knew how. He pressed his leg against hers once more and she pulled away."I ... I had a good time," she told him, "and I'll see you in the office tomorrow."The following day in the office Greg was attracted to Betty Richards but couldn't make any headway about a date for the weekend. Gilda Clancy walked by and gave him the eye. She was a stylish-looking female in her thirties. She was a divorcee, he had found out from his father, and always looking for a man. Gilda introduced herself."I'm Miss Clancy," she grinned, "and I haven't gotten acquainted with you yet.""What a pity," Greg told her flatly. "Maybe we should go out for drinks after work tonight."Betty Richards overheard them. Greg deliberately talked loud enough so she could hear, hoping it would get her jealous.After Gilda had agreed to go out with him for drinks following the work day, he went over to Betty."Well, I guess it's ladies day," he told her. "At least, one lady wants me to go out with her tonight."CHAPTER TWOWhen Gilda Clancy and Greg Morrison were sipping drinks in a nearby bar, she didn't hesitate to let him know what she wanted. All at once she was reaching over and groping him."Not in here, honey," Greg told her."Let's go someplace," she whispered. "I'm horny for you.""I've never had a woman come after me like this before," he admitted, not knowing exactly how to react to the beautiful redhead's advances."I believe in sexual equality, don't you?" she winked as she pressed on his penis."Yes, if it means you giving me a good time," he told her."Baby, you come to my apartment and I'll give you the best time of your life," she told him.Greg realized that her finer qualities were probably hidden beneath the surface. And he was eager to get in her apartment as well as anything else she would permit him to get into."Sure, honey," he told her seriously. "Anything you say. But don't come on too strong. You're gonna make me feel like the weak one. I'm not quite that passive."At that point he bent over so no one could hear and whispered, "I want to fuck you."Gilda burst out laughing."What's so funny about that?" he demanded."You're being so honest, honey," Gilda slurred drunkenly. "I mean, it isn't everybody who'll tell it like it is. They beat about the bush and say they want this and they want that. They want to hear your records. They certainly have to show you their etchings. Baby, you said you wanted to fuck ... and I like that."Greg knew Gilda was stoned and talking dirty. He figured he'd better get her out of the bar as swiftly as possible."My car is parked behind the bar, honey," he told her. "I'll drive out front. Can you make it?""Sure," she told him. "I'll meet you out there in a minute. You gonna pick up the bill or am I?"He laughed as he grabbed the bill and went over to pay it.Gilda took out a compact and put on some lipstick before she managed to get to her feet and walk unsteadily from the bar out to wait for him in front.Moments later Greg's car pulled up. She went around to the other side of the car and got in. Finding it rather difficult to close the car door, he reached over and closed it for her.They drove to his apartment on East Fifty-Fourth Street. They went up to the seventh floor. When he opened the apartment, Greg realized he probably had made a mistake. For the first thing Gilda did was compare his place to hers."You've sure got a lot of space here, honey," she told him. "I live in a shoe box compared to this.""Why don't you take off your clothes, Gilda?" he suggested.She looked at him in amazement."Don't look so surprised, honey," he told her. "There's nothing to be ashamed of. I turn you on and you turn me on. That's all. So why don't you get your clothes off?"Gilda laughed."I turn a lot of men on. I really do. That's how I get my kicks, honey. I like to turn them on. I like to see their cocks get big."She was so sure of herself that it got Greg a bit disgusted."You've got a pretty good opinion of yourself, haven't you?" he smirked."Of course I do," she told him. "And so will you when you finish having sex with me. I've never had any complaints.""Well, as long as you're a good piece of ass," he told her, "I won't make any complaints. But you'd better give me what I want."Right now," Gilda Clancy looked at him, "I'd like a drink, if you don't mind. Could you mix the lady a drink?"She burst out laughing raucously now."You've had enough," he said, shaking his head. "Now go into the bedroom and strip. I'll be in in a minute.""Where are you goin', honey?" she called out drunkenly. "Don't get one of those prophylactic things. I like to feel skin.'"He came back and found her lying stark naked in the middle of his king-size bed."Wow," he exclaimed as he looked down at her shaved pussy."Do you like it?" she asked, opening and closing her legs and pumping up and down as if she had an imaginary penis pumping in her vagina."You've got what it takes, honey," he told her. "Yeah, you've got it right there between your luscious legs.""How about that?" she winked, as she stuck her finger in her vagina.When he looked at her in amazement as he started taking off his shirt, she sensed that he was amazed at her uninhibited sexual play with her body."It's nothing to be ashamed of," she told him. "I like to fuck myself. I won't disappoint you, darling. I promise you that. Just give me one more idrink.""No way," he told her. He found he couldn't meet her gaze. He felt edgy and uneasy. She was older than he was and this troubled him."Older women make the best fucks," she said raucously. "Tell you what you do, honey. Pour champagne in my cunt and lick it out. How about that?"As he slipped off his shorts and his huge, throbbing cock flipped into view, her eyes lit up."Man, how many inches have you got?" she asked excitedly. "You've got to measure that."Greg laughed. He went into the living room and picked up a bottle of champagne from the bar. Returning, he came over to her and told her to pull her cunt lips apart."I'm gonna give you that drink," he told her. "Right in your cunt."She parted her vagina. The moist, glistening pink cunt flesh excited him. Greg took the champagne glass over to her and poured some champagne in her pussy. Bending over, after he had placed the glass on the night stand, he clutched her ass cheeks and pulled her pussy to his lips and started sucking. He licked the champagne out of her vagina, flicking his tongue back and forth across her clit."OOOHHH," she groaned in a frenzy, "YES, YESSS. SUCK MY PUSSY. I LOVE IT. DO THAT TO ME. OOOHHH, AAAHHH, YES, YESSSS."The tantalizing sensation of him clutching her buttocks as he sucked on her cunt ignited her passions. She locked her legs around his shoulders and ground her cunt in his face."EAT ME," she cried excitedly. "SUCK ME. OOOHHH, AAAHHH, YES, YES. SUCK ME, SUCK ME!"His tongue lapping at her pussy stimulated and aroused her to a passionate pitch. Her green eyes sparkled as she threw her head back and forth. What a gorgeous piece of ass she was, Greg thought to himself as he sucked on her noisily.He thrilled to the sight of her red hair flaring across the white pillows as he ate her box."OOOHHH, HONEY," she told him, "I KNOW HOW TO SUCK COCK. LET ME EAT YOUR PRICK. COME ON, BABY, WHEN YOU FINISH SUCKING MY CUNT LET ME SUCK YOUR COCK OFF."Hastily lapping up her cunt juices, he began nibbling at her clit and she juiced some more. Her spasming pussy juices ignited him. He was sucking voraciously now, enjoying every delicious drop of her. The ivory smoothness of her skin added to his pleasure."EAT ME," she panted as she rocked her head back and forth, whimpering in animalish delight as he sucked upon her shaved pussy.Pulling his tongue from her cunt, he licked to her tits and sucked on them, too. Nibbling first one tit, he massaged the other. Reaching down, he fingered her juicy vagina and then slipped his finger in her ass."OOOHHH, YOU'RE HURTING ME," she winced as she felt his slippery finger exploring her anal opening.The delicious excitement that she felt rocking through her body drove her up the wall."COME ON," he told her, "NOW, BABY, YOU LICK MY PRICK."The older woman knew exactly what to tell her young lover to do."I want you to straddle me," she explained. "I want you to straddle my face. Lower your ass directly over my mouth. I want to lick it."He enjoyed lowering his thighs over her beautiful face. Her hands reached up to clasp his bare, naked buttocks. Her tongue lightly licked at his ass cheeks."EAT MY ASS OUT," Greg demanded.Sparing nothing now, she flipped her tongue right up his asshole."OOOHHH, AAAHHH," he gasped as he looked in the mirror at the obscene sight.There she was, pumping her tongue lustfully up his ass crack. The lewd performance of her frenzied tongue stimulated him. He could feel his quivering cock get harder. The raging genital heat in his crotch had him so totally turned on he was starting to ooze cum from his cock tip.Reaching for his prick he began pumping on it."EAT ME," he exclaimed. "SUCK MY ASSHOLE."When she had finished sucking on his butt, she worked her way to his balls. Her mouth opened and she sucked smoothly ,on his testicles."OOOHHH," he groaned, "I LOVE IT. COME ON, BABY. I'M GONNA GIVE YOU A COCK SUCK."She opened her mouth and allowed him to insert his prick inch by inch inside. The pungent scent of his musky crotch excited her. She loved having his bruising penis tip sliding down her throat."EAT ME," he demanded. "SUCK MY COCK, SUCK IT."His hard-throbbing cock invaded her throat. With intense, deep strokes he savagely fucked her throat. She moaned as he went on ravishing her. The sizzling tip of his cock was dripping with cum."EAT ME," he cried ecstatically. "SUCK MY PRICK OFF. OOOHHH, AAAHHH, I WANT TO SEE YOU SUCK."Her lips fastened on his cock head. She closed her eyes and played with his ass cheeks. She would squeeze his buttocks, then release her grip on them. Then her hands went for his balls."SUCK ME," he told her. "SUCK MY PRICK."He could hardly stand it now."OOOHHH," he groaned as he let his cock slide all the way down her throat.Hot, white cum surged down her throat. She gripped his slick cock and held it as she sucked the head of it."EAT IT," he told her passionately. "OOOHHH, AAAHHH, SUCK IT OFF."Her lips gripped his cock as he finished pumping it down her throat with wild abandon.Slowly he eased out of her mouth. She kissed the tip of his male member. He pulled off the bed and got himself a drink."WOW," Gilda exclaimed when he came back into the bedroom with a beer in his hand, "YOU'RE QUITE A MAN."She looked at him with delighted expressions playing about her lips."I've never given a guy a blow job like you," she told him. "You taste sweet like sugar, baby."