Secretary Sex With Miss Tara

Secretary Sex With Miss Tara

27/06/17

I posted the package to LePenthouse Suite three days before this rendezvous with Tara, the gold coast escort honey I’ve selected from the listing on the Gold Coast bordello’s website. Now I’m standing at reception as the sweet receptionist, Juliette, behind the desk hands back my Visa card, payment complete.

“As per requested Mr. Harper, I’ll show you to the suite and Tara will be with you shortly.” She smiles and I can’t help but feel a tingle in my loins and wonder briefly about this gorgeous receptionist’s private life and whether she is also an escort here at LePenthouse Suite. She seems to sense my intent and coughs once and brusquely says, “follow me.”

Ascending the staircase I am impressed by the Baroque/Rococo décor, the mix of modern and classic paintings, the various sculptures artfully placed in lit recesses, the subdued colours and mood lighting. This five-star Gold Coast establishment is all elegance and style and I am hopeful Tara will reflect the quality of the premises

“She’ll be in soon.” The receptionist leaves the room and her patchouli inspired perfume lingers for a moment before the door opens and Tara enters.

Just as requested she is wearing the high-end business attire I have sent previously in the week; the grey plaid skirt and white silk blouse are complemented by her own choice of red high heels, a pearl necklace and stylish glasses. Her soft glowing brown hair is held in a bun by a tortoiseshell brace and she is holding a black fountain pen and memo pad

She smiles wryly and warmly states, “Hello Mr Harper, I’m your new secretary, Tara.” Her clear, cultured voice conveys intelligence, humour, and something sensually erotic about her personality.

I see her face for the first time, and I am devastated by glossy lips that pout with a sexual insouciance that makes me harder than I already was. Her high cheekbones, perfect nose, and gentle brown eyes are informed by expensive glasses that gleam in the reflected light off the mirrored ceiling.

“Shall we start with dictation?” Tara settles into the single-seater couch, crossing her long, slim legs and I’m entranced by the movement of her curvaceous body, slim waist and heavy, shapely breasts. I wonder what she is wearing underneath and I want to see her naked body immediately, but hold back to enjoy this role-play to its fullest extent.

Anticipation makes my pulse pound and I clear my throat and say, “No dictation today Miss Tara, I’ve got something else in mind.”

For a brief moment, I think of all the times my personal secretary back at my office brushed past me, or communicated a hidden desire with a glance, or leaned over to reveal the bra she was wearing for the day; and all that pent-up lust I felt for her was never fulfilled, an unspoken love never requited.

She got married and left the job. Now all that feeling was stirred up again here at Gold Coast LePenthouse Suite, and my body is pulsing with the throb of my erection for this escort Tara, who is now my personal secretary. So gorgeous, so beautiful, too pretty to be real and this is a sex fantasy I never imagined.

I suddenly blurt out, “Miss Tara, you don’t know how many times I’ve wanted to grab you and rub my erection against you.” I want to pull her hard against me now, but hold back, I want to cup her breasts, full and heavy, from behind, but I hesitate, I want to bury my face in the bun of hair, but contain myself just a little longer. I continue with my rant, “Miss Tara, you turn me on every time you enter my office with your glasses, with your soft brown hair in a bun, and your body showing through that business skirt and silk blouse. You sexy secretaries are all the same, I’m going to teach you a lesson, show you who’s boss.”

Tara is dolled-up in the sexiest of business clothes and she is more beautiful by the second and the urgency of wanting to hold her sends me moving forward, propels me by the heat of our onrushing sex. Tara, rising up from the seat now to meet my advance, and putting aside the pad and pen, and me grabbing her slim waist and sexy ass, and pulling her hard against my manhood, and kissing her on the neck, sucking the perfume, her scent, tasting her skin and wanting more, much more.

She gasps as I grope downwards to pull up her skirt, no time to undress, revealing the black lace G-string I knew was underneath all along. And Tara, pulling out my throbbing shaft, and quickly fitting a condom over my length, hurriedly but firmly pulling it over the engorged head and shaft. Lubed and fitted now, and the feel of her grasp on my rock-hard manhood nearly causes me to blow, but I take a sharp inbreath, and look at her angelic features, and manage to hold back the orgasm.

Her glasses slightly askew, her bun messed up and locks and whisps of her lustrous brown hair descend like an aura around our tongue-locked kiss. And she moves to remove her glasses but I firmly stop her hand and push her back, she is sitting back down, this time on the arm rest so I can enter this young Gold Coast escort, thrust my erection deep into her pussy; her long, legs spread wide, and her high heels falling away and friction feeling her young tightness, slick and moist with sex juice, and I say this hard into her delicate ear, “fuck you … Miss Tara, fuck …” Pounding her hard, over and over, this secretary, this escort, LePenthouse Suite’s finest, I’m roughly turning her around and ramming my manhood deep into her from behind. Burying my face into her messed up bun of hair. Now, so deep, to the hilt, thrusting into her and wanting her and having her so aggressively. And her blouse open and her heavy breasts hanging out of her black lace brassiere, my hands groping them, pinching the hard, full nipples, and Tara saying, “Mr. Harper, please don’t, I’m your secretary … “

“You’re my fuck-slave you gorgeous piece of sex,” And then the last few thrusts are the deepest yet and I moan as I blow a load that has been seeking to penetrate this escort honey for what seems like a lifetime. And her hips buck, and her fulsome body stiffens and quivers, and she cries out “Oh Mr. Harper… ,” as she orgasms, and collapses just a little onto and into the chair.

A little while later, after she has made the king-sized bed with satin sheets and with graceful moves that made me stiffen with lust again, I pause to admire her naked body lying beside mine. Tara is lightly tanned, waxed smooth, with a perfect hairless pussy and gorgeous breasts, partially covered by the cascade of her silken brown hair, that press her stiff nipples against my torso as she nestles close against me.

We talk about her English and Welsh heritage, her life growing up on the coast, her enjoyment of restaurant dining as well as home-cooked meals. And then we start again as she begins stroking my still erect shaft, glistening cum on her delicate fingers. I move to suck her nipples and she quietly moans in response, I move down her voluptuous body and find her clit with my tongue and start eating her sex, her pussy juices mingling with my saliva and trickling down my throat.

My heavy panting communicates a rising beastly desire to have her again and as I move up onto her she holds me back and says “Wait, Mr. Harper,” and she grabs another condom and this time she sucks it onto my erection and then we start the hottest fuck-on again.

The love-making the second time is as fine as the first, a little more aggressive, a little more wild from her side, no longer the subservient secretary but a Lois Lane turned super-girl. Riding me on top for endless moments, milking my sex, meeting me from underneath, arching her beautiful back and squeezing my manhood with the moist inner muscles of her tight, tight Gold Coast pussy.

And then me orgasming again with a deep groan, and her own lustful orgasm arriving just a little after mine and accompanied by the exasperated moan of complete female sexual satisfaction. An afterglow of warmth spreads from my loins upwards to the top of my head and downwards to the tips of my toes. And me kissing the sweet beads of perspiration off her brow and the sides of her sweet soft cheek and slender neck. “Miss Tara … “

Our final moments together happen in the introduction room I first entered. “Will you keep the clothes, a memento of our private drama?. Maybe you might want to moonlight at my office?” I say this only half-jokingly, “You don’t even have to apply.” Part of me wants to own her forever.

We laugh gently together and she kisses me on the cheek. “I don’t think my current boss would be too happy if I did that now, don’t you think? Why don’t you come back next time and we can play office politics again, Mr. Harper?” She lets go of my hand, gently squeezing my fingers, and I turn and step out the exit of LePenthouse Suite, Miss Tara on my mind.

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