The Remembrance of the Reluctant Representative



He’s an aggressive man who got to the top with cunning and stealth. He hunted and trapped his prey in such a shrewd way they become willing participants in their abuse. He enjoys his female employees as playthings, taking from them what he wants, giving them in return only what he must.

© Copyright 2016 by Millie Dynamite

Published by Red Kitty’s Publishing

All Rights Reserved

Cover Design by Shiloh Young


NOTE: This work contains material not suitable for anyone under the age of eighteen (18) or those of a delicate nature. This is a story and contains descriptive scenes of a graphic sexual nature. By reading this eBook, you assert that you comply with your local or state laws. This book is purely a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons whether living, deceased, actual events, or locales are entirely coincidental.


You are traveling through Millie’s Vast Expanse – a land of seductions filled with tender, loving ecstasy or affairs of brute force where plunder and murder walk hand in hand. A place where wrongs are perpetrated with relish and revenge is extracted in a primeval frenzy. The Expanse is as broad as your imagination and as deep as your lust. Filled with adultery, fornication, brutal betrayal and occasionally tender mercies. In one long stretch of the Expanse is a particular place and time where misogynistic bosses use coercion and fear or seduction and inducement to have their way with their female employees.

He’s an aggressive man who got to the top with cunning and stealth. He hunted and trapped his prey in such a shrewd way they become willing participants in their abuse. He enjoys his female employees as playthings, taking from them what he wants, giving them in return only what he must. Afterward, he abandons them to their ordinary, mundane, mind-numbing existence. It is the 1980’s, in a place called America, greed is good, but power is better. Cruising at 30,000 feet your descent begins into Millie’s Vast Expanse. Buckle up – it’s going to be a tumultuous journey.

The Remembrance of the Reluctant Representative

By Millie Dynamite

“The hair – They say the hair is everything, you know. Have you ever buried your nose in a mountain of curls... and just wanted to go to sleep forever? Or lips – and when they touched, yours were like... that first swallow of wine... after you just crossed the desert. Tits! Whoo-ah! Big ones, little ones, nipples staring right out at ya... Like secret searchlights. Mmm. And legs – I don’t care if they’re Greek columns... or secondhand Steinways. What’s between ’em – passport to heaven.” Lt. Col. Frank Slade: Scent of a Woman (1992)


Years have passed since those wonderful hours of my indiscretion, that cruel betrayal of our wedding vows, the shame burns inside even today. And yet, such a sweet memory often invades my thoughts, and I become cloaked in a haunting sentimental desire to replicate that wonderful experience. Often, I become melancholy, filled with a powerful longing to recreate those adrenaline-charged hours of erogenous ecstasy. I can only regain my equilibrium by indulging myself with a conscious, waking dream of the whole exhilarating affair. After, comes the guilt and the shame. My betrayal of my dear sweet, husband hurts me – I hunger so to confess to him and beg for forgiveness, but I keep it to myself. For I alone fell from grace, therefore, only I should bear the pain.

Seeing the report in the paper brings it all back to me in a brilliant, blinding flash. I remember the smell of his drink sitting on the tray as the plane started its descent. He winked at me, then hurriedly drank down the liquid and handed the stewardess his empty glass. Thurgood turned and looked at me, his blue eyes were so brilliant and kind looking.

“Don’t be nervous, Anna, we will be on the ground in a minute,” taking my hand he held onto it, smiling at me as the knot in my stomach grew tighter. I hated flying but his mighty hand calmed me, at least somewhat. “I have such plans for you during our free time. I intend that we celebrate our good year at this convention. You know you are one of my most successful sales reps this year.” He squeezed my hand. His calming deep melodic voice kept reassuring me about our safety as he continued to compliment me on my work. Then he said something that caught me completely off guard.

“You are quite beautiful, my dear. I have always had a soft spot for redheads. And you, my dear Anna, you are,” he paused, searching for the word, “stunning.” I was confused by his compliment. My happily married boss just made a comment on my appearance. I couldn’t understand this for he also knows I am married. I blushed and cast my eyes downward, “Now, now none of that my dear.” His hand touched my chin, with a tender persuasion he lifted my face. “What lovely eyes,” he said, his powerful voice was all I heard, “such a dark shade of green, deep – drawing me into them … I could lose my way in your beautiful eyes. I’m certain your husband is quite happy with you.” He leaned toward me I wanted to turn away. I should have turned away – I didn’t, and his lips met my own, our soft, hot lips pressed together. I not only let him kiss me I returned the kiss, and a white hot passion flashed between our mouths. God, what was I doing? I felt a jolt, it jarred me and I bounced in my seat as the wheels hit the runway. We broke apart and he turned away from looking forward.

“It was certainly my pleasure to kiss such a lovely woman as you,” he turned back to me. “That took your mind off it, didn’t it Anna Marie?” he broke into a big smile. I realized he was just playing with me to keep me from worrying. At least, that was what I thought he meant. I hated the way I looked, freckles on a grown woman. I’m plump and plain. He would never be interested in a woman like me. His wife was the picture of perfection – what do they call them, a trophy wife. Even knowing he wasn’t serious, I blushed a beet red.

“Thanks, you had me going for a minute,” I said, relieved and still disappointed he wasn’t serious.

“I’m serious,” he said, seeing my disbelief or perhaps sensing it.

Even with his insistence, I didn’t believe him. He couldn’t be serious about anything with me. I certainly had no right to do anything with him, and after all, I couldn’t do anything with him as I was happily married. The airport was scary to me with all those people rushing around us. When we boarded the shuttle bus, it was crowded. I set next to Thurgood and a black man sat on the other side of me. Soon someone sat next to him and another person sat next to Thurgood. We crammed right up against each other. Thurgood leaned down to my ear whispering.

“That black man has got excited being so close to you. Look at his massive pecker straining against his jeans.” I glanced at his lap, no one had to guess how big it was. The monster showed through the material, its large outline plainly visible. A long thick stick of man meat barely covered by the old worn jeans. I knew it wasn’t me that excited him, for the man paid no attention to me. He just stared blankly ahead.

“Have you ever fucked a black?” his hushed voice purred in my ear. Then even lower he said, “have you dear, have you fucked a big cocked buck – NIGGER?” the harsh word burned my ear. I shook my head and forced myself to look away from the man’s crotch. “Do you want to?” I shook my head again. “Are you sure?” I just sat there a strange feeling coming over me. “I could ask him, but I would rather keep you all to myself,” he said.

When we got off the bus, he stopped the black man and talked to him in a low voice. The man smiled and looked at me then touched his hand to his little ball cap and walked away. I wanted to ask what he told the man but didn’t dare. I saw a strange side to my boss I had never seen before, and it made me – ever so – nervous.

After we had checked into the hotel, it was off to registration followed by drinks with executives of a company I sell our product to in large quantities. The senior foreign managers were quite excited about a new line of a product about to be released. More meetings and then we set up our station to show off our wares to the many companies attending the convention. I won’t bore you with details about our goods or even how the show and tell went. We would be here three full days and two nights. I just wanted out of there. I hated sales, I always have, but it is all I know.

When at last we were able to leave all I wanted was to go back to the hotel, take a bath and go to bed. Thurgood had other plans — we went to a swanky restaurant. He ordered for me, salad, lobster, wine and a dessert. He had me set beside him in a small booth at the back. We carried on a polite, forced conversation throughout dinner. I was in my mid-thirties at the time while he was over sixty and I felt I had nothing in common with him. After the last bite of the meal was finished, he pulled a cigar out of his inside coat pocket and announced, “I know you don’t mind,” as he lit it. In point of fact, I did mind but kept my mouth shut.

We continued our meaningless conversation for a minute or two while the disgusting blue smoke hung thick in the air. I began to cough and Thurgood, unwillingly, snubbed out his smoke. Putting his arm around me, my boss drew me nearer to him as gooseflesh rose over my body. He moved his mouth down to my ear and his deep voice provoked an agitated feeling in me. The anxiety was far from unpleasant as he whispered adorations to my beauty and grace. His warm breath moved over my ear sending shudders down my spine as his mighty hand massaged my arm. I offered a mild protest, which he just ignored as he told me how much he had wanted me.

Turning bright red as my heart began to beat like some bass drum pounding out a rhythm. I could feel the blood rushing through my veins. He told me how much he had looked forward to this trip and how he had planned this night for my pleasure. I kept disputing his claims of my beauty and rebutting his advances. However, timid my protest was presented I was earnest in all I told him. I knew if it continued guilt would consume, it would eat me alive and yet I wanted him so badly at that moment.

He kissed me and fondled my body tenderly yet firmly. Thurgood’s tongue darted around my ear, and he nibbled on my neck. Our flirtatious attention to one another went on for a good thirty minutes. My resistance faded after four or five minutes, after all, he was an attractive man. He was ever the gentleman and possessed a natural magnetism. Even in his sixties, he was still a powerful man, I tried to resist. I made an honest effort to shun his attentions. When our mouths met, I felt this tingling fill me as this electric exhilaration flooded my entire being. After a few moments of clutching and kissing, his tongue invaded my mouth. It tasted of the bourbon and wine he had consumed. In a strange way, his kiss intoxicated me, having nothing to do with wine or bourbon. I gathered all my strength and broke our embrace.

Falling against his broad chest I began to cry, “We can’t do this.” My tears ran down my face then fell to his suit coat. He pushed me away and drank from his glass.

“Fine, suit yourself,” he said. Setting the glass down, “You know, your review is coming up soon, I would hate to find it necessary to give you a poor rating. I think that might contribute to some negative results for you,” He threatened me. This threat was not some veiled menace, it was overt. “I just know you have a bright future with this company. The only one that can fuck it up,” he stopped and looked me, then grunted out, “is you.”

I don’t think I had ever heard him say an unkind word to me until that night. I know he had never used such vulgar language around me. I sipped my wine sitting in my seat in silence as he finished his drink. He pulled some bills from his pocket and threw them down on the table.

“Let’s go, Anna Marie, I’m not spending a dime more on you. You know what, you’re ungrateful.” I started to speak then he snapped at me. “Just keep your mouth shut!” Picking up the check and his cigar, he lit it. In the cab all the way back to the hotel he glared at me. He blew the noxious smoke at me. I coughed asking for him to please stop smoking.

“No,” was all he said. We rode the elevator together in total silence. I shut my door and dropped face down on the bed crying. I continued this for several minutes and wondered what what could he be doing? There was only that adjoining door separating us. Soon I sank into a hot bath to contemplate my future. The tub was a big whirlpool and the water jets massaged my body. It felt good, the tension had become unbearable between Thurgood and me. The warm water swishing around my tense body relaxed me and carried me away to happier thoughts. I daydreamed about Thurgood and our kisses. Closing my eyes my mind then drifted to the black man’s crotch and that big prick underneath those impossibly tight jeans.

“Well, don’t you look comfy,” his voice intruded on my thoughts. Jerking up my hands instinctively covered my breast. “Room for me in there?”

“Certainly not,” I looked at him my horror showing. “Now, get out of here.”

“No, your future is in my hands, and I refuse to let you throw it away,” he said in a firm, matter-of-fact voice.

“Please, sir, leave,” I said, my voice was faltered. I tried to be demanding.

“No,” he was dressed only in a robe which dropped to the floor. I was shocked at his large limp cock. Foreskin hung over the head, concealing it. “Make room for me, Anna.” He stepped in and sat next to me putting his arm around my shoulder then pulled me back to him as we sank into the tub holding me in a tender embrace.

“Sir, this is so wrong,” I said. Speaking in a barely audible voice filled with trembling and fear. Shame burst inside me, this horrid sick disgust for not being stronger. I filled with self-loathing hating that I allowed him to touch me. Even so, I did let him and my protest, at best, was half-hearted. I wanted to jump out and run – I didn’t. I lay against him, enjoying the feeling of his body pressing against mine.

“Ssshhh, we’re doing nothing wrong,” he pulled me to him even tighter. His other hand moved my hands away from my breast. He moved his hands over my chest. “Mmm, exquisite,” he spoke with his lips pressed to my ear. “I have always found you so attractive,” he said, speaking in this soft purr, he kissed my ear. Dear God, how I hated myself, still, I just sat there letting him.

“There is no reason to fight this, no reason to worry about your husband or my wife. This between us, not them and after all, your future depends on it.” I had only made love to one person in my life, my husband. I was anxious about this situation – I was uncertain I could commit adultery. I sensed this passion building inside me, heaping up, like the water in shallows before the tidal wave, threatening to overcome my better judgment. I looked back over my shoulder at his face and he looked at me, gazed really, with this romantic adulation as though I was the center of the universe. That was how I felt – as though I was the only woman in the world.

His hands went between my legs and he explored. I can’t say he poked or prodded, it was a careful investigation, of a more tender type than my husband had ever done. A soft nudging of his thumb over my clit coaxed it from its shroud of flesh. Shivers ran through me as I moistened, this explosive flash of heat spread.

My protest melted away as his will became my own, a hungry yearning swept over me in a massive wave. Again our mouths met and this time it was my tongue that explored his mouth. There was a minty freshness there. It was obvious he had prepared for our encounter. I couldn’t afford to lose my job – but in all honesty, I wanted this, his threat only provided the excuse. My heart pounded as emotions flooded up inside me. Our kiss lasted forever, soft, wet and sweet. Then Thurgood washed me. My whole body, hair, breast, arms, legs, back, and even my pussy. I felt like a Queen being attended to by a caring servant.

When at last we left the tub he dried my body as he told me how hot I was. I feel a need for honesty here, I was plump – at the least, I was overweight. I have always been quite self-conscious about my weight, my looks, my bright red hair and freckles along with my fat breast. Yes, fat breast for a cup size of double H makes them fat not big. If any of this mattered to Thurgood, or that he even realized these things, I couldn’t tell it. In the way he spoke to me or treated me, he made me feel as if I was some superstar actress. He dabbled off the moisture from my body, using the towel in a sensual fashion. The gooseflesh had new bumps join it and the warm feeling spread. That warmth kindled a fire of passion.

Holding me in his strong arms, we pressed our lips together again, in a deep, passionate kiss. Thurgood effortlessly picked me up and carried me to the bed. He lay me down spreading my legs only a small amount, sitting next to me. He wasn’t up near my head he was at my waist. Both hands roamed over my body. Beginning at my breast, he caressed me down over my belly, further down, passing over my hairy pussy. His hand worked down my legs massaging them with a firm tenderness. His strong, yet tender touch melted away the tensions of the trip, the day at the convention center and the awkward meal. He rolled me over and worked on my back. My inhibition melted, my guilt and shame fled, freeing me to enjoy this carnal banquet.

I think I was more relaxed than I had been in years. His powerful hands rubbed and kneaded my flesh and muscles as my inhibitions melted to his touch. I can’t possibly tell you how I felt. Perhaps women will understand this but surely most men will not. This stopped being physical and turned – spiritual. I felt as though we belonged together. All the time he worked on me he cocooned me in compliments, about my beauty, my intellect, how gracefully I moved. He wrapped me up in this loving, sensual, moment revealing my own longing. He kissed one of my butt cheeks and lightly bit me. Teeth tested my flesh, he nibbled around on both buns, kissing, licking me, feasting on flesh in an animalist show of his hunger. Then Thurgood rolled me over on my back.

He positioned himself between my legs, lifting my legs up over his shoulders. He flashed me a wicked grin as his face descended. Our eyes were transfixed and soon I could see little but them, his forehead, and gray hair. Soft lips again pressed to me, his tongue darted out exploring. No one had ever done this to me. My husband was nauseated by the mere thought. Thurgood pleasured me with wild abandon. He explored, nibbled and kissed me from my throbbing clit all the way to my asshole. His tongue would alternate between my honey hole and my brown eye. All the while the emotions welled up inside me. I felt as though I would explode as physical pleasure and passionate sensations built toward a mind-numbing climax.

It was a ripple at first, down between my legs and yet it wasn’t restricted to there. No, my breast tingled, my stomach knotted. And my head, oh god, even my head felt waves of heat escaping. A deep rush of pleasure surged through my whole body. I think I must have bucked and thrust into him. I know my body convulsed, shuddering from one orgasm to the next.

As my body shook, twitching oddly from the events, my mind and emotions reeled. Never had I experienced such pleasure. The physical enjoyment bordered on a religious experience. I felt so defenseless and vulnerable, I was unsure what to say or do. Thurgood kissed his way up my body over my hairy pubic mound, up my tummy. When at last, he reached my breast he caressed my tits and my nipples feeding on them like a baby suckling. It drove me to edge of sanity as new waves of pleasure ran through my body.

I touched him for the first time. I petted his head as he feasted on my fat tits. My memory here is shaky. Not, however, from the years that have passed. No, rather, it was simply that the events that followed seemed to happen in this blinding, brilliant, explosions of passion. Touching, feeling, kissing as we both explored each other’s bodies. I had only touched one other man’s penis in my life, my husbands. I touched, fondled and longed for Thurgood’s, eager for so much more.

I remember moving the foreskin back from the big head, exposing the big plumb sized helmet for me to see. I tentatively tasted it, if I am honest here, I had never done this with my husband. Yes, we had been married for many years. Still, I had never given him head any more than he had gone down on me. To be fair to my husband I had resisted doing or allowing either. In this explosion of lust, I lay in bed with my boss, licking, tracing, and running my tongue around his peckers head. All those latent inhibitions of oral sex melted away. I drew my tongue under the rim of the helmet, kissing the fat head, and I worked his big shaft in my willing wet mouth. Thurgood showed his appreciation by touching me down between my legs. A soft encouragement accompanied by praising my oral prowess. His fingers were thrusting in out of my twat matching exactly the speed I used on him.

When he got near his climax, he softly pulled on my head and said, “I’ll spill on the towel.” I resisted and worked on him in a fevered, furious means, sucking his beautiful cock deep into my throat. He stopped his efforts to dissuade me and dumped his seed into my mouth. He bucked his hips into my face as hard as I had bucked on his. Grunting and groaning as he held my head tight to his belly. I took every drop and gobbled it down hungry, devouring every drop with ravenous ferocity. He lay there sucking air as I crawled up and lay against him. I didn’t exactly know when it happened, but we fell asleep in each other’s arms.

Again my memory is all bright flashes of emotions and physical pleasure. Everything happened in these hot, intense moments of energetic, passionate mutual pleasures. I remember waking and feeling his hands running over my ass. Then I heard a soft gushing sound and felt cold, slick, sticky lotion on my butt hole. His fat prickhead pushed on my brown eye and he said in a soft yet firm whisper, “This will hurt, but it will be pleasurable as well.” With that, he thrust in the head. Biting my lip, I stifled myself from screaming out in pain as his prick invaded my ass. One of his hands massaged my breast while the other worked on my pussy. His big thumb drew circles around my clit as three fingers invaded my hole. All the while he pumped deep into my rectum.

His chest pressed against my back as we lay on our sides and his large muscled body engulfed me. The curly hair on his chest felt rough against my skin, though not in an unpleasant way, just – strange. Pressing in and out of me the pain was intense while the pleasure was exquisite. All the time he expressed how hot I was, how desirable and sexy. My heart raced faster as my emotions swelled in me at the same time. It seemed all too soon when his cum blasted inside me. Even so, from the time I had awakened until he climaxed it was over an hour. His cock shrank, falling out it lay flaccid against me, neither of us moved. His semen ran from me, down the crack of my ass, over my leg, at last, pooling on the bedsheet. Soon the darkness covered me and I slept sound and secure in his powerful and tender embrace.

There were brief flashes of waking and looking at the clock, 1:48, 2:20 and 4:15. That was when I rolled over, still held in his arms. My eyes fluttered open and I saw him looking at me. His face was emotionless with only the hint of a smile. I moved my face to his, pressing my lips to his mouth. I am not exactly sure when or how we shifted, but somehow I was on top of him. I knelt over his rigid pecker, descended on his manhood in a slow, deliberate way. It was longer than my husbands and touched me where I had never been touched. It was pleasurable and painful, but only a small amount and just for a moment. No, painful is the wrong word. More like a discomfort.

Taking the entire shaft inside I moved my hips on him as he thrust up into me. I had never been on top of my husband. I was not exactly sure how to move but had watched some adult films on our cable. I’m ashamed to admit I imitated what I had seen. Moving my hips and body the way they did in movies when they were on top of the men.

It was pleasurable but more than that it met some need deep inside me. An emotional connection had developed in that burst of passion, the sex was only a part of the equation. We moved as one in a passionate, long lovemaking session. My heart brimmed up with emotion, jumbled sentiments of lust, love and guilt. Oh yes, that terrible guilt was there as well – reminding me as I cheated on my husband – what a dreadful little bitch I was. I experienced the most intense orgasmic lovemaking of my life, accompanied by the most extreme mood swings imaginable. Feelings of tender love and extreme guilt jumbled together. When at last we finished after hours of lovemaking, we again lay in each other’s arms. Cuddling in the afterglow of our tumultuous affair.

The next day passed as a slow, agonizing, ordeal of the blandest, tedium. Clients and potential clients droned on about their needs while all I could think of was my own deep needs. All I wanted was Thurgood and to be with him. The horrid day bore on from dullness to monotony with no end in sight. At last, it was over and we rushed back to the hotel. Kissing and fondling like teenagers on a first date all the way back in the cab. Groping hands, wet willing mouths and undulating bodies contorted on the back seat of the yellow taxi while the driver watched in the mirror. Perhaps he had a small amount of jealousy.

Ordering room service we anxiously fed each other like newlyweds. In no time, we grew impatient, making love on the table with no regard to the food. The night was long, sweet and scorching. There was hardly any sleep. A few minutes’ slumber here or there then one or the other would awaken aroused and the whole thing erupted again.

We made love until there was barely enough time to get ready to leave. That was when the change happened. As we rode back to the airport on the little bus, I kept touching him and he kept moving my hands from his body. He gave me stern looks of disapproval. Standing in line to board the plane he spoke in my ear, in this soft, hushed tone.

“Nothing happened on this trip. You will never speak of it to anyone and nothing will ever happen again.” The words stung me, my heart sank in my chest, I realized the wisdom of his words, but it tore me apart. It had to end, for you see, working together with the feelings we had for each other would be impossible. Well, the feelings I had for him is more accurate. I was certain he was accomplished at this little game. Still, I had no hard feelings about it. It is a sweet memory I recall often. It takes just a thought and I’m back in that hotel room, my chest heaving and body quaking and trembling.

Never again did I cheat on my husband. While our love making improved with my newly found boldness in bed, it never reached the heights of those two nights. I kept my secret all these years. I will take my secret to my grave. When I think about it, I feel so very guilty, but I wouldn’t trade those sweet, passionate memories for anything.

The death notice in the paper with Thurgood’s name overwhelmed my heart with sadness. I fear I shall have a heavy heart for a long time to come. Try as I might, even after all those years, I just can’t shake my feelings for him, stronger now that he has passed. I have always wondered if he ever thought of our wild nights together. I still wonder if he had held an emotional attachment for me after our tumultuous nights. He was always quite generous with my evaluations. I was even the one he chose as his successor as director of sales upon his retirement. I just wonder if he loved me in some little measure. I mean really loved me or was I just a plaything he seduced, used and then moved on without a thought of me?

“Are you alright?” my husband asked me with concern.

“I’m fine, dear. I just had a sad thought for a moment," I said, laying down my paper. Getting up I walked over to him and kissed him. I couldn’t help but wish he was Thurgood.

Several days after the funeral, unable to resist any longer, I found myself on a wet afternoon standing at Thurgood's graveside. Kneeling down, I placed a single rose on the freshly dug grave. Despite the rain, two dozen single red roses adorned the grave, each petal wet with gentle raindrops. I have to assume each was placed there by a woman just like me.



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