Her Breeding Bull Billionaire

By: Francis Ashe

He shifted his gaze. “And you?”

“I’m... uh... sales manager. I’m the sales manager at the software company down the street. Intellitrac.”

“Hum. Well, alright.” Mr. Richards leaned back against his desk and wrung his hands. “You say you’re a teacher, Ashleigh, at the university? Are you a professor? Graduate student?”

“Yes sir, I’m a professor. And run the studio, which does well for itself.”

Clark Richards answered with another cryptic nod and more hand wringing. His face did soften a bit. He looked pleased.

“So that’s the business of it. I’m satisfied. I can’t have any possible offspring of mine being placed in helpless situations. You understand.”

Unbelievably, I nodded.

“One last thing, though,” he said as he pushed off the desk and moved across the room. “I need to know that you’ll be able to satisfy me sexually. Men like me can afford to be choosy. Ashleigh. Prove to me that you’re worth my time and my energy. I have a meeting in eight minutes. Make it quick.”

Clark Richards brushed a tendril of hair back behind my ear. Jeff, beside me, squirmed.

“What do you...?” I asked, as I rose from the chair. That was the first time I noticed how tall, how dominant-looking this man was. About six inches taller than me, and quite well-built from the tightness of his suit, he towered over the two of us.

“Take initiative,” he said, “do something.”

Hopped up on a mixture of lust and fear along with a dash of that feeling I get in my gut when someone dares me to do something, I reached for the man’s belt, unlatched it, and undid the two buttons of his slacks. As I knelt, I looked up and chewed my lip, pensively. “What should I call you?”


That got my juices flowing. “Yes sir.” I drew his zipper down and ran my hand up one leg, then the other. When I got almost to his groin, I felt a long, hard lump running down his left thigh. Oh my God, it’s huge! I gave him a brisk rub with my palm before sticking my hand into his open fly to fish out his cock. Through the slick fabric of his underpants, his warmth tickled my fingertips. I looked up at him again, locking eyes for a moment and as I stroked his generous length, asked him “is there anything in particular you would like?”

Mr. Richards crunched his eyes to slits. “For you to stop talking. Impress me. Now.”

If anyone else on planet Earth had said that to me, there’s a solid chance they would have gotten a slap across the mouth. But for some reason, when he commanded me and made demands, I liked the way he spoke. He was so totally unlike my husband; so strong and self-confident.

“Yes, sir.” I nodded, meekly.

A thin smile parted Mr. Richards face for a moment. “Good. Go on.”

I shot a glance over to Jeff, and when I did, noticed that somehow the office’s frosted glass had darkened, like the tint on eyeglasses. Nervously, Jeff shifted his weight in the chair and adjusted the tent-pole in his trousers.

Just by feeling his rod, I could tell that Mr. Richards was much, much bigger than Jeff. His dick felt like iron against my palm as I rubbed his entire length with the hand I had stuck down his pants. Even if it weren’t for all this money, this guy would have the reason for this overdeveloped sense of confidence right here.

He relaxed his neck and loosened the first button of his collar, slipping his tie knot a couple of inches from his throat. “You have six minutes.” Mr. Richards stated flatly. “If I don’t cum, the deal’s off.”

My hand trembled a little at his insistence, but as soon as I pulled the waistband of his pants and underwear down far enough so that I saw the beginning of his thick, ready cock, I just had to have more. I fished down deep and dragged him fully out into the open air – he was magnificent. Tan like the rest of Mr. Richards’s skin, his prick was long, rock hard and so thick that one hand did not reach all the way around. His balls hung clean shaven and heavy between muscled thighs that I ran my hands over to feel the lines of his quadriceps and the smooth warmth of his skin.

Mr. Richards’ round, proud tip pulsed lightly every time I tickled my fingers around his cock, and when I dared look up again, saw that his eyes were closed, his head relaxed. I gripped him, as much as I could in one hand, and cupped the other around his balls. Hot and smooth, the first thought I had as soon as they touched my palm was to drag my tongue up between them, suck one of them into my mouth.

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