FSE

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formerly SoFurry search engine

This is a work of fiction. Unless otherwise indicated, all the names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents in this story are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. All characters are of legal and consenting age, likewise if you are reading this story, you should be of legal age in your respective country.

All characters are my own creation, any resemblance to existing characters is purely coincidental and not intentional, please do not use them without permission. If you would like to use them in a story, please feel free to send me a PM on SoFurry .

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A Story in an hour or day, these kinds of stories are not edited so it will be a bit rough and might not flow as nicely as some of my others. Sometimes these turn into bigger stories further down the line, but mostly these are just flash in the pan ideas I need to get out of my head before they cause congestion and block other longer story ideas.

Authors note: I don’t normally write first person stuff, so this is more of a test than anything to see how well it comes out. I might do more of this in the future, but we’ll see what people think of it. This was more of a story in an hour but spread over four hours because of all the interruptions. It is very rough, so I apologize ahead of time.

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Good evening, I am Keith Kole, I’m a twenty-something Canadian Timber wolf and this is my TED talk. Nah, just fucking with you, but seriously though, stay a while and listen, because man do I have a story to tell. If you’re someone that has people working under you, hopefully you’ll learn a valuable lesson and not repeat the mistakes the boss in my story makes.

Let me tell you about the time I got one over on an old boss of mine, you see, Kingsley Cortez was a mean old son of a bitch. Sure, he was a self-made man, he had built his company from the ground up, pulled himself up by the bootstraps and all that other shit old people like to say when they want you to know they never had it half as easy as you do. Instead of learning to appreciate things and people from all his struggles, they just made him cold and bitter towards everyone and everything. That’s not to say he wasn’t a good man, I’m sure he was, why else would a beautiful woman like Tara agree to marry him otherwise?

Kingsley was an old grumpy Grizzly bear; his years were showing around his rather rotund middle and the grey on his muzzle. He was even starting to grow some of those crazy old man eyebrows that looked better suited on a wise old wizard from DnD. Despite his age however, Kingsley was still rather active and ruled his domain with an iron fist.

Tara on the other hand, well, bears aren’t usually my type but let me tell you something. The tits and ass on that woman made even gay guys heads turn, that’s not even an exaggeration either, I saw it happen multiple times. She was at least a decade younger than senior grumpypants, but she looked even younger thanks to the energy she put out. She was the polar opposite to Kingsley, where he was grumpy, she was bright and cheery. Where he hated people, she loved people and enjoyed being the centre of attention. Where his fur was mostly black with flecks of white around the muzzle, she was mostly white with a muzzle that looked as though it had been dipped in axle grease. His eyes were a milky brown, hers were a bright and sparkling amber.

Kingsley didn’t like people, basically, I’m not sure if you’re getting that. He was a rude, obnoxious asshole at the best of times, even worse if you were of a different species. But he was a shrewd businessman, he had built a really impressive advertising firm, there was no denying that. Everyone who wanted to be anyone wanted to work for the old bastard, me included. I was good at what I did, everyone said so, everyone except Kingsley. Kingsley thought I was too full of myself, that my skills were lacking, even after I attracted some of our largest clients with my portfolio. No matter what I did, nothing was ever good enough for the old senile fuck. Even my own father, who was a military man through and through, who gave me shit for not enlisting and instead going into what he called a girly career of advertising, even he didn’t give me half as much crap as the old bear did. God, I hated him, I hated them both.

The final straw came when he denied me my well-deserved payout on a large account, one which I had brought the client on myself and managed every step of the way. The honey eating fuck denied me my massive bonus simply because I did not follow the correct channels. What were the correct channels you ask? How the fuck would I know, there was never anything discussed our even outlined the entire time I was there, so he obviously just made it up to screw me over. The thing about me he didn’t understand however, was that I am no pushover. Just because I don’t explode into a blind rage like my old man, it doesn’t mean I don’t get mad, it sure as fuck didn’t mean I wouldn’t get my revenge either. In my line of work, it pays to be very detail oriented, something I often excelled at, which would come in very handy with my revenge.

I didn’t jump at the first idea either, I took my time and planned it all out. Sure, I could have done something as lame as make a bunch of fake bots on the internet and leave poor reviews of his company, but that would probably just hurt me in the long run if the company lost business as a result. No, I wanted something specific, something personal, most of all, something that would drive a nail into that finely varnished pride of his. The idea came in a brilliant flash one morning, I just happened to be walking past Tara who was standing in the hallway and laughing at something while showing one of our coworkers a video on her phone. I slowed down just enough to see she was on InstaRam, which thinking about it now, probably wasn’t all that surprising. She was way more tech savvy than her husband at least, if only she’d been on the other infamous blue and white site, then I’d get an eyeful. That was it, why couldn’t I get an eyeful? In the brief look I got at her screen, I saw her follower count was in the thousands, so it was unlikely she vetted them all and just accepted requests from anyone that followed her. Most importantly though, I saw her account name.

That night I set up my own account and quickly added a bunch of random people so it wouldn’t look like a bot or spam account. I also added a bunch of random photos I had taken while out hiking, along with a few thirst trap pics of my toned abs and chest which had gotten lots of likes on the other platforms I post to. I made sure not to post pictures of my face however, that was all part of the plan. After a week of building a small following, I slipped into Tara’s DMs. She was wary at first, but it was surprisingly easy to butter her up and get into her good graces.

Less than a week later and we were swapping intimate photos of one another, while I still had the smarts not to include my face in my pictures, she had not thought that far ahead. She still did not know it was even me she was talking to, even when I dropped subtle hints about my fondness for hiking and such, she would just blush and comment that she had a friend who also enjoyed hiking.

“You should see if you can join him for a hike sometime” I even suggested with a friendly smile. The fact she didn’t even catch that I had said “him” when she hadn’t even mentioned her nebulous friends’ gender was a sure sign she was an easy mark.

“I couldn’t do that, what would Kingsley think?” Tara protested, but the blush and look in her eyes was a sure sign she was considering it.

“He probably wouldn’t even notice you were gone” I offered in solidarity and support of her new budding friendship. “You know him, he’ll probably be off playing golf or something with his drinking buddies anyway.” Lord strike me down, I could feel the damned Devils horns poking out of my own forehead the way I said that so smoothly with a forked tongue. But she lapped it up, it seemed our…or rather, her and her new friend’s late-night conversations about her disdain for her husband’s weekend golfing had come in handy. It was the perfect lever for me to fulcrum that wide bubble butt of hers right into my hands. Sure enough, by the time I got back to my desk, there was already a DM waiting for me. I knew what it would say, even before opening it. Over the last few days, both in DMs and in brief interactions with Tara in the office, I had been laying the breadcrumbs for her, to lead her astray and off the faithful beaten path. It worked a treat too; all it took was a nice outline of my admittedly chunky sheath in a pair of boxers to get her mind spinning and her panties wet. Yes, wet, I still have that photo saved in my gallery.

“Hey, do you think I could join you for a hike sometime? I could use a good workout” her message read innocently enough. But the subtext was there, considering the other conversations we had been having, I knew she wanted to get hot and sweaty, but she didn’t want to go backpacking through the Andes to do it. The only big hard object she wanted to summit was my dick and I was going to let her.

“Sure, I can make you break a sweat and leave you breathless. Got any plans for this weekend?” I shot back, knowing full well the little game we were playing. It was like shooting fish in a barrel, I could see the entire chessboard while she was still stuck playing Checkers with blinkers on.

“Sounds good, where should we meet?” her response came back almost immediately. There was no delay, no silly game of trying not to seem too interested or eager. She wanted this, perhaps more than me even. That was fine though, I was happy to play along. Even if nothing happened, I still had dozens of photographic evidence to enjoy, a few interesting reels as well which I had managed to save before she deleted them.

Again, the devil was in the details. I knew where old man Kingsley played golf, so I knew Tara wouldn’t want to be anywhere near where he could potentially spot her. That worked out well for me too, there was a less popular trail on the other side of the town I knew that wasn’t too hard of a hike. It was less popular because it wasn’t so well maintained, and the flora did make it rather difficult to follow any sort of a pathway very easily. This meant there were plenty of secluded spots for some fun activities, I knew for a fact all those leaves and branches were pretty good and muffling screams of pleasure, I’d taken enough exes there and put it to the test in the past.

Tara eagerly agreed, so we set a time and place to meet up, our first meeting as far as she was concerned. I couldn’t help but poke the bear, as the saying goes, every time I saw her, I asked about her plans for the weekend, which she tried not to blush and quickly changed the topic of discussion. Oh yes, it was obvious she was planning on being unfaithful this weekend, little did she know with who. I made sure to keep her on the hook and interested as well, finally showing her what she was in for. There’s nothing quite like that downward angle with a nice red and white soft drink can laying against a well-defined six pack and beside a fully engorged wolfdick to show off just how much meat I was packing. I could see the three dots appear and vanish over and over as she typed then deleted a response. Usually, Tara was quick with the replies, but this time, it took her ages just to get a simple “Jeezus” out of her. Oh yes, she was going to be on her knees praying at the alter of cock this weekend like a good girl should, that was for sure. Look, I think it’s fair to say I am an above average wolf, not just in brains and looks. I’m a handsome guy, I’m smarter than the average mutt, but I also put some horses to shame. In this instance, perhaps it was good that Tara was a big grizzly girl, if anyone could take me to the knot, it’d be her. Then again, those vixen bitches and even some otter girls had surprised me in the past, but that’s just because we all know they don’t have any internal organs. Frankly, I wouldn’t be surprised if they were just the next evolution from Jim Henson’s twisted and perverted mind.

The weekend arrived right on schedule, as it often does. I had borrowed a buddy’s car for this weekend, claiming mine was in the shop and being serviced. Meanwhile, I just didn’t want anyone recognizing my car while I serviced Tara instead. As agreed, I waited further up the path and out of sight for her to arrive. I knew the soft, almost hesitant footsteps were hers, any hiker here not planning on cheating on their husband would have boldly walked the path without hesitation.

“Keith!?” Tara blurted the moment she saw me casually leaning against the trunk of a tree, with a toothpick casually poking from the corner of my grinning muzzle. Yeah, I know it was fucking cheesy, but screw you, I looked casual and cool!

“Are you surprised? I mean, that was very clearly a canine dick you were drooling over last-night” I teased while reaching down to adjust the bulge in my loose-fitting hiking shorts. The greedy bitch dropped her gaze as if to confirm my words, when she saw the hefty weight I was waggling in her direction, she had to admit to herself I was the one she had been messaging the entire time.

“I should report you to HR for this” Tara replied with a low growl as she tried to play the innocent victim. She even folded her arms beneath those inviting full tits of hers, which just resulted in the low-cut top pulling even lower and showing off more of the white valley her cleavage created.

“And tell them what exactly, that the fat dog dick you’ve been fantasizing about riding happens to be another employee’s?” I shot back with a smug grin. “Did you forget about all those naughty photos you sent me in return? Admit it, you’re just embarrassed that you got caught out” I said, rubbing salt in the wounds of her battered pride.

“So, what, you’re going to blackmail me, is that it?” She snarled, her nose and muzzle wrinkling in anger.

“No, nothing like that” I replied, raising my hands up in surrender. “I just want to fuck you, that’s all…promise” actually, I wanted to fuck her husband, just not with my dick. Fucking his hot trophy wife was just the best way for me to do that, so technically it was the truth. “What happens on the hike, stays on the hike” I pressed on when it looked as though she was mulling my words around in her mind, she was clearly trying to decide if she could trust me or not.

“No one else knows about this?” Tara finally asked, sounding a lot calmer and more collected as she eyed me up and down curiously.

“Not a soul, this is just between you and me. As much as I want to fuck you, I don’t want to lose my job” I laid it on thick, I had to. If she felt like she wasn’t as powerless here as she really was, she wouldn’t go through with it. But knowing how some women think, the risk aspect is what they really crave, Tara craved that risk like a meth addict craved man-made rocks.

“Alright” she finally caved and replied with a sigh. Perhaps it was the subtle way I was framing my dick with my hands in my pockets that got her there, I mean, her eyes really did spend a fair bit of time down there. I’ve had underwear that spend less time on my dick than her eyes did in those few moments. The bitch was in heat, I could smell it, even over the damp leaves and sodden undergrowth, the scent of slick cunt was coming through like a ship’s siren in the fog.

“After you then” I offered, stepping aside and directing her along the path. Of course I was going to walk behind her, she was wearing yoga pants, and it was an uphill climb. Watching those firm globes work and flex beneath the form fitting spandex really made the miles pass so much easier. There was hardly any talking though, which did sort of make it feel like maybe one or both of us were being marched to our death.

“Here, follow that little path off to the right a bit” I again directed, it was the spot I often took dates to. The path was easy to miss if you didn’t know it was there, you basically had to push through a large brush to get to it. But once you got past that, there was a small footpath which led down to a secluded cave which had been formed by the river. The majority of people didn’t know the cave was even there as the trees overhead created the perfect canopy, letting in just enough light to see, but they blocked out any meaningful arial view. The soft stone had been worn away over centuries, it wasn’t too big, but big enough for what I wanted.

With a small gas camping fire and a thick winter sleeping bag on hand, the cave was toasty warm with a nice soft surface for activities, all safely tucked away from prying eyes. Of course, Tara did notice the claw marks on the cave walls, which were very clearly not made by wild animals. When she looked at me for clarification, all I could do was grin knowingly and shrug my shoulders in confirmation of her suspicions.

“Show me” Tara finally said, after she had caught her breath from the brief hike up.

“Get down on your knees first” I growled back with an arrogant growl. I knew she liked to be told what to do, at least she had said as much during out talks. I was curious to see if she still would follow my directions now that she knew it was me. She didn’t move right away, it was easy to see why though, she was clearly weighing her options again. Did she really want to go through with this, to cheat on her husband with me? Just to give her that little nudge in the right direction, I untied the drawstring on my shorts and undid the first couple of buttons to expose the tantalizing bulge being barely restrained by my underwear.

The look on her face was priceless, her eyes went wide, and her jaw clenched, it was plain to see she was trying so damned hard not to look. But when I stuck a finger down into my underwear and collected some of my own musky scent to dab onto her nose without warning, it was like watching the walls of Jericho crumble at the first blast of the horns. “Kneel” I growled again, louder this time, and this time she listened. Because she listened, I kept up my end of the deal as well and shrugged out of my shorts and underwear. I didn’t give her a chance to react; however, I just grabbed behind her head and pushed her face into my crotch. I made sure she got to breath nothing but my manly musk as I rubbed my throbbing sheath all over her pretty face and fucked up her makeup. She let me do it too, she could easily have pulled away or told me to stop, but she didn’t.

Even when I guided her soft married lips to the tip of my lipstick which was starting to show, Tara didn’t stop me. It was obvious she knew she should say no, the guilty look in her eyes was there, but the way that freakishly long bear tongue wrapped so greedily around my dick as she swallowed every growing inch, that guilt wasn’t enough to stop her. For a rich bitch, she thankfully knew how to suck dick too. Most trophy wives I’d encountered so far were rather shit in bed; they relied on nothing more than their looks and a tight cunt to hook a rich old husband. Tara however, she could suck a tennis ball through a garden hose. I was actually worried the bitch was trying to suck my balls out through my dick at one point, if I’m being brutally honest. For someone that wasn’t sure if she wanted to go through with this affair less than two hours ago, she sure as shit was putting in one hell of a performance.

The way she was sucking me off though, how she gently caressed and played with my balls, hell…even the way the bitch was squeezing just behind my knot like that, it damn near made me wonder if she just wanted to suck me off and be done with it. Again, that attention to detail thing came in handy, for a bear, this bitch sure knew how to handle a canine cock. I was never good at biology back in school, but I was pretty certain bears didn’t have knots like mine. That was a fact I tucked away for a rainy day, in case I ever needed to use it. For now, though, I just enjoyed the sloppy deepthroating of a married woman with a long tongue. If you’ve never had your knot and balls licked while your dick was being sucked, I highly recommend it.

“Good girl, but you’re not going to make me cum so easily” I rumbled in pleasure down at her. Yes bitch, unlike most guys, I remember the shit you told me. I remembered you saying how you liked being called a good girl, how excited it makes you. That clearly wasn’t a lie either, I saw how she was starting to shift and almost squirm on the spot from just being called a good girl. I had no doubt that if I stuck my hand inside her underwear right now, it’d feel like a slobbering horse trying to eat an apple she was so goddamned worked up. I forced her maw down deep, made sure to get a nice ring of that expensive rouge lipstick she loved so much on my knot too. I only let up when she slammed her fists against my hips in demand for air. Fuck she looked so hot with her mascara running down her cheeks and her lipstick smeared like that. Even the way she tried to growl while gasping for breath, the mixture of my precum and her saliva left wet spots on her top too.

“Turn around and bend over, I’m going to fuck you now” How was I not meant to sound smug or dominating saying that? I’d have had to inhale helium for it to sound unattractive, but with my deep voice and the acoustics of the cave, I may as well have been Barry White serenading a hooker in heat. There was a brief flash of defiance in her eyes, but it passed in an nanosecond before she was on her hands and knees before me.

Sure, I had seen it in photos on my phone, but let me tell you, those pictures paled in comparison to the real thing. Tara’s ass was so goddamn perfect, I swore I heard a heavenly choir when I peeled her yoga pants down and off to reveal it. For such a large grizzly gal, she had the cutest little pink pussy in the world. Yeah, I know I said I was going to fuck her now, but believe me, if you had seen what I saw, you’d want a taste of it too. I felt her tense with my grasp on those gorgeous rear cheeks of hers as I spread her wide, giving me intimate access to my bosses most prized possession. Or at least, it should have been his most prized possession, who knew what it actually was with senile old Kingsley. Either way, I dove in and pressed my cold, wet nose right to her pretty little indent of a pink pucker, while my silver tongue introduced itself to my boss’s private property.

She didn’t taste like ambrosia from the gods or any of that nonsense most smut writers like to pretend, but she tasted good enough that I didn’t feel the need to stop anytime soon. Though, truth be told, even if she did taste horrible, just the mere fact I was feasting on Kingsley’s cunt would have kept my face buried between those heavenly cheeks until the second coming. Well, in this instance, I did keep my face there until the second coming, but the only Jeezus present here were the curses from the married ursine I was tongue fucking like a pro. Yeah, bears might have long tongues, but us wolves, we have nice broad ones. Perfect for scooping and licking, even twisting and pumping with rapid speed. That’s even before we teach ourselves new tricks, which I had. What, you think the white along the underside of my muzzle was from age? Fuck no, read a book, that shit was from well earned wear and tear, my friends.

I had that bitch begging for mercy, or at least I made her stop regretting agreeing to this encounter. She did tap out, or at least I think she did, I saw her raise her hand a few times, she could have been praying I suppose, she did invoke the lords name enough times. I’ve eaten enough cunt to know when a woman cums, not the fake shit you see in porno's, the quiet ones where she tried not to let you know you got her. The faint bitten back whimpers, the way she tenses and fights the overwhelming urge to just slam back against your face. No, she didn’t wail like a banshee, didn’t cry out and call me daddy, none of that shit. Tara tried everything in her power to pretend like she didn’t just cum around my tongue and leave the underside of my chin soaked. She didn’t want to give me the satisfaction of knowing I had won, that I had given her the pleasure her own husband hadn’t…or perhaps couldn’t.

“I’m not done yet, time for the main event” I huffed with a low growl, making sure to rub the bridge of my nose right against her clit while I spoke, just so she could feel the soft vibrations of it. Tara couldn’t even look at me, wouldn’t look at me, she knew I’d see it in her eyes. As much as she wanted to pretend, she wasn’t enjoying this, I knew I had broken her long before my dick ever would. I hadn’t just been all talk and bravado in our DMs; I was backing up every damned claim I made and then some.

I’ll be honest, the temptation just to ram every goddamn inch into her was immense, but I knew that wouldn’t be the smart move. If this was going to be a once off thing, or if she was into that sort of pain, then I might have done it. Instead, I gripped her ass in my left hand while I tapped my length up against her hot little cunt with my right. I made sure to saw my thick fuckstick back and forth between her thighs a few times, just to give her a feel for it. Damn near reached her belly button, if I do say so myself, perhaps I could tickle it from the inside instead? Time to find out, she was babbling something to me as I lined myself up, but honestly, I didn’t give a shit. You can’t present a nice inviting warm hole like that before a horny wolf and not expect him to bury his bone, that would just be cruel and unusual punishment.

Perhaps it was just as well I didn’t listen to her, she later told me she had actually told me to stop, and she had changed her mind but was thankful I didn’t. She wasn’t a porn actress with years of experience under her belt, she wasn’t even a mother, I don’t think, so that cunt was not as skilled at taking something my size in one thrust. I made damned sure to inch my way in slowly, really made her feel that stretch as I worked her open. Now she was groaning for me, her head hung low, and her hands clasped before her as if she were praying. The glint of the light catching the diamond in her wedding ring made me smile, I hadn’t noticed she still had it on while I was trying to get balls deep in her. I don’t know what it is about a married pussy, it just feels better than a single woman’s. Perhaps it is because of the lack of use? You single gals and all your one-night stands, situationships and weird sextoys can pipe down. You know there’s a reason there’s a goddamn meme about anything being a dildo for a reason. Married women tend to look after themselves, or at least just don’t go around jamming every phallic shaped object inside themselves.

Considering her size, Tara was delightfully snug, then again, that could just be from how much she was clenching and squeezing down on me. Judging from the way she was groaning and panting though, it was a safe bet to assume old Kingsley wasn’t putting any horses to shame, unlike yours truly. Nothing boosts your ego like the sounds of a woman grunting and panting while your hips slap against their backsides, while you “rearrange their guts” with your dick, as the young folk like to say.

“Oh shit…oh fuck…oh God!” I kept hearing her whimper and cry out with every other thrust. Oh yeah, she was feeling it now, there was no denying that she was being fucked by a real man finally. I mean, the way she was moaning already, it made me wonder what noises she was going to make when I crammed my knot up inside her? Hell, I wasn’t even going full tilt yet, this was just a lazy Sunday afternoon fucking by comparison and already she was creaming all over my dick. It made me question just how dead their bedroom life was if this was enough of a dicking to make the married bear cry out. The way she was gripping down on my cock with her cunt just showed me she needed more, to be thoroughly broken. It was almost my duty to give her that, what she most wanted and needed in the world.

I am a dirty bastard though, so of course I jammed my thumb up her ass for good measure. I mean, she had been wiggling her tail at me so invitingly the entire time I packed her pussy full of prick, how could I not accept the invitation? She made the cutest little scream too, but by God did she squeeze down tight enough around my dick to cause me to come to a screeching halt inside her when I did it. Yes, I admit, this time I did hear her say no, and yes, I did ignore her again. I had plans for that as yet untouched treasure, but that was for a later date. Right now, I was just using that tight muscled openings grip to help anchor my hand on her ass so I could really start fucking her. It’s amazing how quickly she forgot about my thumb in her ass when my cock started hammering her cunt like a blacksmiths hammer against an anvil. My ass was swinging like a fiddler’s elbow with the pace I was going, I was determined to show Tara just how better us wolves were at fucking than impotent old bears were. Let me tell you, I needed that extra grip too, the bitch went wild, there were moments I was worried she was going to snap my dick off from how she was making it near impossible to thrust into her at straight angles.

I thought she came a lot just from my tongue earlier, but that was nothing compared to how she was then. Apparently, prim and proper Tara swears like a drunk sailor when her G-spot if ground into dust and a knot batters her clit like a bass drum in a marching band doing a rendition of a Skrillex song. She kept cumming and clenching so much I was beginning to worry I wouldn’t get to knot the bitch, but I am a man of my word, and I had promised myself I would do it. Granted, it was more blind luck and perseverance more than skill that finally got it inside her, but I did succeed in the end. I apologize for anyone in the area that heard that bitch howl and the subsequent reports of a feral wolf in the area, it was just me, fucking my asshole of a boss’s wife.

I had made sure not to pack any wet wipes or cleaning stuff, thankfully Tara hadn’t thought that far ahead either. This meant the cheating bitch had to drive home leaking my cum, after I had successfully flooded her with my generous load of course. Did I save up for the weekend you ask? Damn straight I did, even edged myself the last couple of nights before the weekend too. There’d probably be less cream in a Twinkie factory than what I filled Tara with; I can tell you that much. When she got home, she even sent me a picture of her sitting on an ice-pack. Looks like someone’s pussy got good and thoroughly pounded.

That was how it started, soon the weekend hikes became late nights at the office. It was actually Tara’s idea for me to bill it as overtime, just to make it seem more plausible that I was genuinely working late. I can’t tell you how amazing it feels to be fucking the boss’s wife, on his desk, while getting paid overtime for it. Not only that, but she is also the one that approves it with HR! Life is good, it actually makes it worthwhile putting up with the old man’s shit. We got away with it for quite some time too, at least until Deborah from accounting happened to be working late one night and we were a little too careless.

Not that it mattered, Deborah wasn’t exactly a fan of Kingsley’s after he denied her personal leave to tend to her ailing husband after his triple-bypass surgery. Oh, before you ask, yes, Deborah is now also on the receiving end of regular dickings too. Her husband is on deaths door; he’s pretty much a vegetable thanks to a botched surgery. Needless to say, the curvy heifer has a lot of shit to work out, but hey, at least she is happy to sign off on my well-earned overtime.