A Secretary’s proposition - True story…?
A proposition too hard to refuseā¦? A true story recounting a tale my Dad told me as a ***********, Driving to a football match togetherā¦.
I was 16 at the time when my Dad, who was like my best friend, confided in me, on the way to the football match.
Heād been away earlier that week on a business conference with his secretary, a woman called Catherine, and it had involved an overnight stay in Bath.
Now Iād met Catherine earlier that summer, when Iād done some work experience, and to say sheād left an impression on me was an understatement. She was a petite woman, at a guess about 30 years of age (10 years younger than Dad) with short blonde pixie haircut and delicate elfin-like features, framed by a pair of little black glasses. She was also French, which made every word she spoke just sound ridiculously exotic and sexy to an inexperienced, gawky teenager, such as myself.
As we drove to the match, Dad told me how when they were driving down to the conference in Bath earlier in the week, Catherine had announced that she ādidnāt want to sleep alone tonight...ā
āI nearly veered off the road!ā Dad said laughing at me as we drove on, āI mean. What do you say to that?ā he exclaimed.
He went on to explain that though she didnāt want to be unfaithful to her husband, she wanted to āfeel close to someone for the eveningā, that she needed some āadult companyā.
Even as a *********** lad, I knew where this was goingā¦The very thought of another woman, especially one as sexy as Catherine, propositioning my Dad in such a direct way was strangely arousing to me, especially as Catherine knew he was happily married.
āWould you like to share my bed tonight, John?ā sheād apparently followed this statement up withā¦
I looked at Dad, speechless, astonished at what he was telling me here - my cock hardening to his every wordā¦ Indeed, as we drove on, I had to adjust my trousers several times when he wasnāt looking to reposition the uncomfortable stiffy Iād developed on hearing the story unfold.
He went on to say he declined her, but Catherine had been undaunted, āWell the offerās still thereā¦If you donāt want to sleep in my bed, Iāll find someone else who doesā¦ā
My mind was racing by now and my cock tingling as I wondered if heād weakened as the night wore on, as I already knew for a fact he found her very sexy too.
āSo did you go to bed with her?ā I asked, both aroused and scared. Scared at the implications if he said yes. What it would mean for our family. Mum was insanely jealous of Dad and his flirting and ability to attract women, seemingly way out of his league, like moths to the flame. Indeed he left his previous job on Mumās insistence, after he seemed to be spending a little too much overtime āworkingā with another colleagueā¦
Apparently not though. Dad went on to say how she picked up a young guy - seemingly closer to my age than his - and had taken him back to her room that evening. Such was her sexual frankness (a French thing?) that sheād then recounted to Dad their night in detail, how the guy āwent wild when he took off my braā, but stressing that nevertheless she wasnāt unfaithful to her husband.
āI didnāt let him fuck me,ā sheād told Dad as they drove back north the next day, ābut I did have to do something to satisfy himā¦ā
āAnd was he satisfied?ā my Dad enquired.
āOh he was satisfied!ā came her emphatic reply!
āMakes you wonder what she did to him doesnāt it?ā Dad laughed, looking at me, once more.
And all through the match I sat there wondering exactly that! What had she done to the lucky guy?! And what wouldāve happened to us, our family, if Dad had instead accepted Catherineās invitationā¦? Would he have left us for her? She was a whole different level to my mum in terms of sexual allure.
And then there was the nagging, but strangely arousing doubt in the back of my mind whether Dad was even telling the full truth? Was HE the lucky guy? Was he just using the cover of āsomeone elseā to talk indirectly or offload his experience to me, to boast about his exploits? I kept asking myself, could he really resist Catherine? Especially as I knew how much he fancied her himself, and that sheād told him that āno-one would ever have to knowāā¦
When mum wasnāt around heād often remark how hot Catherine had looked at work today. How he could see her stocking tops or her nipples poking through her little white blouse, or how great her arse looked in the little skirt she was wearingā¦How she loved to hear him compliment herā¦
āāāāāāāāāāāāāā
When we got home from the match, I made my excuses to Mum and dashed straight upstairs to the toilet. Locking the door behind, I sat on the loo and took my cock in hand. I thought of Dadās story again and imagined this time that Dad had accepted Catherineās offer - and that he had gone to her room that night.
Holding the tip of my cock I wanked furiously as I imagined Dad to be the one āgoing wildā taking Catherineās bra off, sucking and ******* at her perky little tits, begging her to let him fuck her.
I thought of them holding each other close, exploring each otherās bodies, their marital partners blissfully unaware, miles away up north, as their respective other-halves kissed and stroked to mutual satisfaction, before finally falling asleep in each otherās arms.
And as I thrashed myself to a climax I saw Dad agreeing to Catherineās desire not to be āunfaithfulā to their partners, but nevertheless being unable to resist his secretary, as she knelt in front of him, his his fingers running through her short blond hair, as she sucked his cock until he filled her mouth with his cum, which she swallowed greedily.
āāāāāāāāāāāāāā
All these years later Dad will still occasionally bring her name up, when weāre sharing a drink or two, saying she was the sexiest woman he ever met. āAnything but the canalā was fair game for Catherine, he would laugh, as far as she was concerned, unless someone fucked her - she wasnāt being unfaithful. Perhaps thatās the measure Dadās also going by, when he says he didnāt have an affair with herā¦?
After recent revelations from him about an overseas trip to the Far East, where he admits he fell for a Hong Kong waitress, then I have grave doubtsā¦
And Iāve seen first hand how he behaves when heās freed from the shackles of Mum for the night - out for the evening with delegates at an overseas conference or other such occasions, like the āSlow Danceā Wedding that Iāve also written about ā¦
So what do you think? Was my father able to resist Catherine all those years ago, or was it him that āwent wildā and who she shared a bed with that night at the conferenceā¦?
I was 16 at the time when my Dad, who was like my best friend, confided in me, on the way to the football match.
Heād been away earlier that week on a business conference with his secretary, a woman called Catherine, and it had involved an overnight stay in Bath.
Now Iād met Catherine earlier that summer, when Iād done some work experience, and to say sheād left an impression on me was an understatement. She was a petite woman, at a guess about 30 years of age (10 years younger than Dad) with short blonde pixie haircut and delicate elfin-like features, framed by a pair of little black glasses. She was also French, which made every word she spoke just sound ridiculously exotic and sexy to an inexperienced, gawky teenager, such as myself.
As we drove to the match, Dad told me how when they were driving down to the conference in Bath earlier in the week, Catherine had announced that she ādidnāt want to sleep alone tonight...ā
āI nearly veered off the road!ā Dad said laughing at me as we drove on, āI mean. What do you say to that?ā he exclaimed.
He went on to explain that though she didnāt want to be unfaithful to her husband, she wanted to āfeel close to someone for the eveningā, that she needed some āadult companyā.
Even as a *********** lad, I knew where this was goingā¦The very thought of another woman, especially one as sexy as Catherine, propositioning my Dad in such a direct way was strangely arousing to me, especially as Catherine knew he was happily married.
āWould you like to share my bed tonight, John?ā sheād apparently followed this statement up withā¦
I looked at Dad, speechless, astonished at what he was telling me here - my cock hardening to his every wordā¦ Indeed, as we drove on, I had to adjust my trousers several times when he wasnāt looking to reposition the uncomfortable stiffy Iād developed on hearing the story unfold.
He went on to say he declined her, but Catherine had been undaunted, āWell the offerās still thereā¦If you donāt want to sleep in my bed, Iāll find someone else who doesā¦ā
My mind was racing by now and my cock tingling as I wondered if heād weakened as the night wore on, as I already knew for a fact he found her very sexy too.
āSo did you go to bed with her?ā I asked, both aroused and scared. Scared at the implications if he said yes. What it would mean for our family. Mum was insanely jealous of Dad and his flirting and ability to attract women, seemingly way out of his league, like moths to the flame. Indeed he left his previous job on Mumās insistence, after he seemed to be spending a little too much overtime āworkingā with another colleagueā¦
Apparently not though. Dad went on to say how she picked up a young guy - seemingly closer to my age than his - and had taken him back to her room that evening. Such was her sexual frankness (a French thing?) that sheād then recounted to Dad their night in detail, how the guy āwent wild when he took off my braā, but stressing that nevertheless she wasnāt unfaithful to her husband.
āI didnāt let him fuck me,ā sheād told Dad as they drove back north the next day, ābut I did have to do something to satisfy himā¦ā
āAnd was he satisfied?ā my Dad enquired.
āOh he was satisfied!ā came her emphatic reply!
āMakes you wonder what she did to him doesnāt it?ā Dad laughed, looking at me, once more.
And all through the match I sat there wondering exactly that! What had she done to the lucky guy?! And what wouldāve happened to us, our family, if Dad had instead accepted Catherineās invitationā¦? Would he have left us for her? She was a whole different level to my mum in terms of sexual allure.
And then there was the nagging, but strangely arousing doubt in the back of my mind whether Dad was even telling the full truth? Was HE the lucky guy? Was he just using the cover of āsomeone elseā to talk indirectly or offload his experience to me, to boast about his exploits? I kept asking myself, could he really resist Catherine? Especially as I knew how much he fancied her himself, and that sheād told him that āno-one would ever have to knowāā¦
When mum wasnāt around heād often remark how hot Catherine had looked at work today. How he could see her stocking tops or her nipples poking through her little white blouse, or how great her arse looked in the little skirt she was wearingā¦How she loved to hear him compliment herā¦
āāāāāāāāāāāāāā
When we got home from the match, I made my excuses to Mum and dashed straight upstairs to the toilet. Locking the door behind, I sat on the loo and took my cock in hand. I thought of Dadās story again and imagined this time that Dad had accepted Catherineās offer - and that he had gone to her room that night.
Holding the tip of my cock I wanked furiously as I imagined Dad to be the one āgoing wildā taking Catherineās bra off, sucking and ******* at her perky little tits, begging her to let him fuck her.
I thought of them holding each other close, exploring each otherās bodies, their marital partners blissfully unaware, miles away up north, as their respective other-halves kissed and stroked to mutual satisfaction, before finally falling asleep in each otherās arms.
And as I thrashed myself to a climax I saw Dad agreeing to Catherineās desire not to be āunfaithfulā to their partners, but nevertheless being unable to resist his secretary, as she knelt in front of him, his his fingers running through her short blond hair, as she sucked his cock until he filled her mouth with his cum, which she swallowed greedily.
āāāāāāāāāāāāāā
All these years later Dad will still occasionally bring her name up, when weāre sharing a drink or two, saying she was the sexiest woman he ever met. āAnything but the canalā was fair game for Catherine, he would laugh, as far as she was concerned, unless someone fucked her - she wasnāt being unfaithful. Perhaps thatās the measure Dadās also going by, when he says he didnāt have an affair with herā¦?
After recent revelations from him about an overseas trip to the Far East, where he admits he fell for a Hong Kong waitress, then I have grave doubtsā¦
And Iāve seen first hand how he behaves when heās freed from the shackles of Mum for the night - out for the evening with delegates at an overseas conference or other such occasions, like the āSlow Danceā Wedding that Iāve also written about ā¦
So what do you think? Was my father able to resist Catherine all those years ago, or was it him that āwent wildā and who she shared a bed with that night at the conferenceā¦?
4 years ago