Murphy

My warm thanks to Evita17 for editing this story.

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Murphy.

I found them in a box at the side of the road, the four beautiful pug puppies with their fawn bodies and pretty squished black faces looking up at me, waiting to be loved.

A sensible person would have taken them to the local shelter where they would have been adopted quickly.

I was not a sensible person; many wouldn't even call me a normal person by society's usual standards.

I'd lived alone since I decided to embrace my feminine side. My girlfriend at the time was unwilling to share her wardrobe with me, so she packed her bags and walked out the door on the day I shared my needs with her.

Since then, I'd had flings with both sexes, none particularly satisfying.

I'd tried a committed relationship with a man once. It was short lived, he was a user wanting a submissive mouth wrapped around his cock 24/7, and that wasn't the change I was looking for in life.

I was happy. My sex life was entirely masturbatory, but it was varied and I had enough costumes and toys that I could roleplay either male or females characters in my fantasies.

But I was lonely.

We all need love; I picked the box up and put it in the backseat of my car. Dasher, Dancer, Prancer and Vixen had found their new home.

The vet bills for four pups would strain my finances, and my meager rainy day fund would soon be empty. I needed to sell another story, quickly, today.

I phoned almost everyone I knew with no luck. It was the usual script; the stories were fine, but didn't fit this month's theme. Did I have anything along the lines of..?

I read the last card in my Rolodex, "Conrad Murphy, Literary Agent."

I hated to do it. Murphy paid good money when he published a story, but he had an interesting method of selection, at least when it came to my stories.

Vixens little paws stretched up to touch my knees, her expressive face filled with unconditional love. Oh well; sometimes sacrifices must be made.

Murphy agreed to see me at 3. I hated seeing him after lunch; he was an old fashioned 2 martinis sort of guy, and booze only fueled his libido.

Well, I knew what was coming, better get ready.

I pulled a set of pumps from my closet. I was already a little taller than Murphy, and he hated it when I wore heels.

His favorite color was yellow; I had a lovely floral dress in that color, which I had carefully tailored so that the hem floated up when I walked. I loved it.

I picked out 36C falsies. Murphy liked big tits, but that was the largest size I was comfortable with. A yellow satin bra and panty set, with lacy white hold-up stockings completed the ensemble.

Lavender was my favorite scent and it was calming. 'Serge Lutens; Gris Clair' fit the bill perfectly.

My makeup was understated, just a little foundation and eyeshadow, but my lips shone bright scarlet. I wouldn't have picked that color, but I wasn't dressing for myself.

I reviewed myself in the mirror. Even if did say so myself, I was a hot piece of ass.

I sat in an uncomfortable chair in the waiting room; his secretary knew me, but rarely engaged in conversation. He kept me waiting for 15 minutes, and I used breathing exercises to calm myself.

His door opened. He was dressed the same way every time I saw him; black patent leather shoes, a charcoal grey wool suit, a clean white cotton shirt, and a black leather belt.

The only thing that differed was his tie. Sometimes it was a solid blue, sometimes it was a solid red, and today was a red silk day. From prior experience, the color told me nothing of his mood.

He sat beside me. "Back alley, 5 minutes," he said.

He offered me his hand and as I rose to walk to the elevator with him, I could already see his cock stiffening in his pants. Shit, it was to be the 'street guy rape' fantasy again; I was in for an unpleasant afternoon.

I parted with Murphy on the ground floor and slowly made my way around the building to the head of the alley.

I waited, giving him sufficient time to get in place. Then, taking a deep breath, I gathered my resolve and swishing my butt as sexily as I could, I sashayed into the alley and my date with Murphy.

"Hey, pretty lady!" The voice came from behind me.

I didn't turn around, just kept walking.

"Hey, pretty lady," I could hear footsteps behind me, "you in a rush?"

As I had done at least half a dozen times before, I started to walk faster.

One hand grabbed my arm, the other went over my mouth as I was dragged into a nearby doorway.

"What's the rush, bitch?" Murphy was already breathing heavily; he stank of sweat and excitement, and the alcohol on his breath was stale and rank.

I was pushed back against the door. As his hands groped me, he leaned in to force his tongue into my mouth. I responded to him more eagerly than I expected. Had it really been that long since I had been with someone?

His hands had already begun rolling down my panties, and I was surprised by how quickly my flaccid cock became erect. Fuck, I was being turned on by Murphy.

"I'm being friendly, bitch, why you running away?"

"I... I have a job interview, sir," I stammered "I'm going to be late."

"In a rush, eh? Well, maybe we'll be quick."

He pushed me to my knees; that was one pair of hold ups fit for the trash. "You know what to do," he growled.

I looked away, but he grabbed my hair and turned my face, pushing it into his groin. "Suck my cock, bitch."

My hands trembled as I undid the belt around his waist, then the trouser button, finally pulling the zipper down. He wasn't wearing underwear and his erect cock dashed out, the eye winking at me.

"Get a move on."

I normally started with licking the circumcised head for a while, leisurely making my way up and down the shaft, then a little ball play before engaging in a few minutes hard cock sucking.

The purple veined ridges of his firm cock stood out nicely today. I took a moment to admire the contrast between his golden skin and the purple glans as it quivered with excitement. Murphy had his faults, but he also had a really pretty prick.

I leaned forward towards the head, tongue flicking out like a snake tasting the air.

"I thought you were in a rush, bitch?"

He forced my mouth over the head, which was already leaking pre-cum, and pushed me down the shaft.

I was always surprised by how soft the skin of a cock felt, even when hard. Little dribbles of his cum mixed with the natural taste of his cock. Yummy, sea salt chocolate.

Murphy wasn't huge, only 6 inches and average girth, but I preferred my cocks that size. I didn't struggle to fit them into my mouth, and my tongue could work them on the inside.

6 inch cocks barely made me gag, and although I knew some men liked the image, I found having streams of saliva running down my chin unattractive. Spunk was ok, spit was not.

I bobbed my head up and down on his cock as he slid through my mouth with ease. I could hear his groans of pleasure as I continued to work him. His hands grabbed my hair, "Look at me, look up."

Murphy and I had been through this routine before, but today was the first time I was enjoying it, the smell, the taste, the feel. For once, it was actually sexy, and I felt my own cock strain as it tented the front of my sundress.

I raised my eyes to see him grinning down at me. "That's great, baby."

"Keep going."

"No hands."

"Play with yourself."

During the next five minutes I received a stream of instructions while I worked hard to bring Murphy to release.

"I'm coming! Swallow it, bitch, swallow it all.'

A stream of hot spunk shot from the eye, filling my mouth. He continued to push my head down during the aftershocks, and when he was sure his balls had fully drained he grabbed my hair and pulled me to my feet.

"You passed the job interview," he said, laughing at me.

His hand slapped my bare ass. I gave my best feminine giggle in response, and then I gasped as he pulled my arms behind my back, tying them together with duct tape he pulled from his pocket.

This was a departure from our normal routine; usually I'd have a check in my purse and be in the back of an Uber while he was still zipping up his pants up.

"My panties, Murphy, pull them up," I begged.

He opened the door and pushed me forward. My panties were around my knees, and I struggled as he duck-walked me to the service elevator. He pushed me in and pressed 5.

"What's going on, Murphy? This isn't part of the deal."

His hand reached around to grab my still hard cock. "Stop complaining and stay in character," he said, slowly working my cock under the sundress. "Bonus round."

We arrived at the fifth floor, and he quickly pushed me down the hall and into his office. His secretary hardly glanced at us as he pushed me on and through the inner door. I tripped, landing face-first on the floor, my dress riding up to give Murphy a perfect view of my ass.

"Delicious," he said.

He lifted me by the hair, and with my arms still tied behind my back he bent me over his desk.

I felt the skirts of my dress flip up. I was now totally exposed, and he stepped back to appreciate the view.

I knew what he wanted. Normally, I would have been repelled by the thought of full sex with Murphy. Blow jobs were one thing, but anal sex was a totally different matter. His name had never been anywhere near getting on the V.I.P. list for that particular party before today.

Still, I desperately needed to come, and Murphy's hand had selfishly refrained from regaining its position on my cock.

My face was pushed into his desk, so he couldn't see me smile as I made my decision and widened my legs and lifted my butt to encourage him.

"You want me, don't you, Josie?"

"Yes, Master, please fuck me."

The lube was cold at first as he swirled it around my asshole, but it quickly started to heat up and left a nice tingling sensation down there.

I felt myself strain a little, put up a little resistance as the tip of his forefinger lingered, pushing gently at the edge of my asshole. He felt me do it, laughed, and then efficiently slipped the rest of it inside me.

He worked that finger for a little while.

I could see his reflection in the window, one hand holding the lube bottle as he poured it over his other hand.

A second finger slipped inside. He bent them slightly as he explored around searching for my G-spot.

The two fingers withdrew, and the next thing I knew three fingers, held together in a reasonable approximation of a cock, penetrated and started to work their magic inside me.

I lay on his desk panting and moaning, hands immobilized behind my back and legs well spread.

Murphy had pressed me down hard onto the desk's surface, my cock could feel the rough texture of the blotting paper on top of the desk as his hand moved my hips. It wasn't unpleasant.

"Beg for it, bitch, beg to be fucked."

"Please fuck me, Master, I'm your slut. Fuck your slut, Master."

As he moved forward, I felt his cock pause for a second at the entrance. "Well," he said, "seeing as you asked so nicely."

His first thrust didn't go in much more than head deep, but by the fourth he had the full 6 inches seated inside me.

I moaned.

He started slowly, allowing me to experience every inch of his cock as it withdrew, then pushed back into me.

He was slowly picking up speed. The occasional thrust would be forceful enough to ripple my butt cheeks, and the accompanying quiet slap was almost too exciting.

He whacked my ass, "Don't you dare come without permission."

His cock slipped out of me as he spoke, and I mewed in a small protest of disappointment. He laughed, burying all 6 inches back in me again.

He picked up speed and was soon moving very fast, his cock hammering me with such abandon that I could feel him inside every part of me.

Sweat was dripping into my eyes. I could feel it running down my thighs, my back, my neck; I was a mare at the races laboring under the whip of a merciless jockey as he rode me down the home stretch.

Murphy continued to drill me, my ass cheeks vibrating under the mania of his fucking, slap, slap, slap.

I hadn't really had many male partners, but fuck me and glory be to all that is holy, Murphy, Murphy turned out to be the best.

I labored under him for at least 15 minutes; my quiet panting and moaning were now full-fledged screams of pleasure.

I begged him not to stop, to fuck me harder, to own me, to make me his slut.

Murphy's cock was still working me, pumping my ass; by now he was grasping my hips pulling me back onto him. He was already filling me, he didn't have another inch to give, but he was certainly trying.

"I'm coming." He could only manage a rough whisper through his exertions "Come with me, slut."

I felt my hole warm as he emptied a load into me, and as the warmth spread and the sensation overtook my body, I orgasmed for him.

I could feel a sticky wet mess form underneath me as my cock exploded. I purred. Murphy was going to need a new blotter, and my dress was going to need dry cleaning.

Murphy was done. A last few ragged stokes in my ass and he withdrew, his cock quickly returning to its natural state.

Picking up scissors from the desk, he cut the binding on my hands. "That was fucking brilliant, Josie. You really do a great fantasy slut."

He helped me over to his couch, and I lay down in his arms. He spooned me while I caught my breath. "Thanks, Murphy."

I turned to face him; one hand went behind his neck, pulling his mouth down to my mine. I reached for his cock, "I have a second story to sell, if you're interested."