When her boss Mr. Richard summoned her that day, Corinne thought she was going back a few years. At the time, he asked her to intervene with his own secretary in a special mission alongside him. The aim was to help him conclude a major deal with a Russian oligarch (see “fuck again in Moscow”). The company had been successful and Corinne received a nice bonus of 5000 euros. But she had to pay for it by sleeping not with the oligarch but with his bodyguard under the eyes of his voyeur boss, encouraged by Mr. Richard Sabine Bernard’s secretary who had also gone to the pot. This double devotion to the company’s cause had been modestly dismissed by Mr. Richard, who had only considered the result. Corinne had been careful not to tell her husband about the episode when she returned, especially since she had not been totally displeased by “being a whore”, as the bodyguard had proved to be exceptionally virile. She had nevertheless sworn not to do it again.
And a few years later, when she had reached 50 years of age, Mr. Richard gave her this speech:
– Mrs. Dutournon, I didn’t forget your efficiency a few years ago to help me conclude a decisive contract for our company. It just so happens that we are again at a crossroads. We must at all costs partner with our Italian competitor to continue our growth, but it is being pulled by the ear. You have to go there to convince him. I cannot go there myself because I have another important meeting in New York, but my deputy, Pierre Legrand, who has just joined us, will find it a great opportunity to show his value. However, I would like him to be accompanied by a safe person and that is why I thought of you. You will be his wife, fictional of course and therefore his atoutcharme. I’m not asking you for any more, don’t worry. But Italians are sensitive to this kind of thing.
Corinne didn’t answer right away. Accompanying Pierre Legrand did not thrill him. This newcomer had seemed austere and unpleasant to him when he arrived in the box. Of course, he was looking good for his fifty years and so on, but she could not see herself playing the role of his wife. Nevertheless, his question was lifted when Mr. Richard added:
– Of course, you will be remunerated upon your return by an exceptional bonus linked to the success of the operation, which I have no doubt about for a single second.
Corinne then thought of the 4×4 that her husband Christophe had just ordered without asking her advice when they often ended up in the red months. She asked:
– Does Mrs. Bernard accompany us as in Moscow?
– No, she stays here and prepares your trip. You will be alone with Mr. Legrand.
It was an interesting point because this sacred Sabine, libertine in her soul, had strongly encouraged her to “sleep” in Moscow. And Mr. Legrand, by his austerity, would be a deterrent to possible Italian companies. She accepted.
The first contact between Corinne and Mr. Legrand outside of work was quite cold. Apparently, the assistant felt cluttered with this elegant woman who was considered “eminently fuckable” among the company’s males despite her entry into the 50-year-old category. A fake blonde with hair falling on her shoulders, long tapered legs and a high planted chest, emerald eyes and a bright smile, she had an undeniable seductive power that did not seem to reach the austere Mr. Legrand, who seemed to consider her a simple subordinate. But the fake couple played the game, as professionals.
Their arrival in Rome found zealous companions who led them to their hotel. It was a step that Corinne was apprehensive about. He didn’t like the idea of sharing Mr. Legrand’s room. But it had to go through that. She had insisted with Sabine, who was in charge of the reservation, that the room should have two separate beds. However, once in the room, it appeared that it had only one double bed. “The bitch,” thought Corinne, “did it on purpose. Fortunately, the bed was big enough and Corinne reassured herself that she would separate from her “spouse” by placing pillows in the middle. Mr. Legrand made no comment and simply put his belongings in his closet.
That same evening, the fake couple had to respond to the dinner invitation from the owner of the Italian company Mr. Bettini. The restaurant was located in the centre of Rome. For the occasion, Corinne had taken out of her suitcase one of her favourite dresses, short and sleeveless, short of the neck in front but deeply neckline in the back. It allowed her to highlight her summer tan on a naturist beach (it was then September) but also to show that her breasts were still holding up very well without support. It was in this outfit and perched on pumps raising her fleshy buttocks that Corinne accompanied Mr. Legrand on foot through the Roman streets. It turned out that they passed in front of the famous Trevi fountain. Both remembered the famous scene of the “Dolce vita”, Fellini’s film where the beautiful Anita Ekberg enters the fountain to wet her thighs:
– A great film, I’m a fan of Fellini,” Corinne confessed.
– So do I,” replied Mr. Legrand.
And both evoked the filmography of the Italian genius, which greatly contributed to bringing them closer together and breaking the ice. Obviously, Pierre Legrand no longer considered Corinne simply a pretty woman concerned only with her appearance. And it’s arm in arm. underneath that they entered the restaurant.
Mr. Bettini was a man of their age, typically Italian with a slightly conspicuous elegance and a cheerful smile. He was visibly impressed by Corinne and kissed her hand a little theatrical. Speaking impeccable French, like most members of the Italian high society, he endeavoured to give them a warm welcome with his subordinates. Everyone was gathered around a table, Mr. Bettini, flanked by Corinne, facing Pierre Legrand.
This dinner did not discuss the economic subject, reserved for a specific meeting the next day, but comparisons between France and Italy. Mr. Bettini, who was increasingly eager, spoke more often to Corinne than to her “husband”. At the end of the meal, after a few glasses of chianti, the transalpine boss’ hand strayed onto Corinne’s thigh, which gently pushed it back. He started again once, twice, three times and Corinne found herself faced with a dilemma: either put it seriously in its place, even if it meant creating a mini scandal and thus ruining the negotiation, or give in. She gave in. Mr. Bettini, while talking to the table, was able to caress this largely uncovered golden thigh, going as far as the groin fold, and Corinne wondered if he would not dare to put a finger in the thin thong she had chosen. Fortunately, the meal was coming to an end and Corinne quickly left the table with her face closed, barely greeting Mr. Bettini, who, for his part, was radiant.
On the way back, Corinne told Pierre Legrand what had happened under the table during the meal. She thought her boss was going to explode:
– How? How? Did he dare? But that’s unacceptable! It’s humiliating first of all for you but also for me and for the company! We’ll settle this tomorrow, believe me.
– Be careful, Mr. Legrand, don’t jeopardize our negotiation. I have some and I’m not going to be bothered about making out.
– No, it is not acceptable, although I appreciate your concern for the company’s interests. We’ll see about that tomorrow.
And the fake couple arrived at his hotel.
Upon arrival at the room, Corinne headed for the bathroom to take a shower. She came out in a nightie, one of the ones they wore at home and which, to tell the truth, didn’t hide much but what else to wear? She wasn’t going to sleep with her clothes on. Pierre Legrand succeeded him in the bathroom not without having taken a look at his pseudo wife’s outfit and came out in much more classic pajamas. They both wished each other good night, each on one side of the bed, not without some embarrassment but Corinne was so tired that she fell asleep quickly, forgetting to place the pillows in the middle of the bed as she had planned.
His night was troubled. The events of the day, and particularly the heavily watered meal, were not conducive to a quiet sleep. She stirred a lot, forgot where she was and approached Pierre Legrand as if she was in the conjugal bed. And believing Christopher her husband next to her, taken with sudden tenderness, she put her hand between his legs, entered the pajama pants, grabbed the penis at rest with two delicate fingers and started a light hand job. The effect was radical and Pierre Legrand became long and hard. Considering, how not to understand it, this manual intervention as an invitation to go further, he expelled his pants and pyjama jacket and swung between Corinne’s open thighs, checking for promising humidity as he passed.
Corinne suddenly woke up when she entered the room. It was not her husband who was besogner but her boss. An intense surprise can be seen on his face but the slight darkness of the room does not did not allow Pierre Legrand to notice it. For half a second, Corinne balanced between the desire to kick her boss out of her crotch with losses and crashes and the desire to preserve her future by suffering contempt without flinching. She opted for the second option, focusing on rapid ejaculation, which she sought to hasten by vigorously lifting her buttocks off the bed to the rhythm of her improvised partner’s flare-ups. But he took this ardour as an endorsement and even an encouragement. Bending the tall blonde in half by passing her ankles over her shoulders, he gave her dick blows of such virulence that Corinne began to lose all control of the situation. She was no longer really eager to end this unexpected coitus. The more the man searched her, the more she even wanted him to continue his work and she told him verbally. Free of her nightie by herself and after the day had invaded the hotel room, Corinne exposed her nakedness to her partner who feasted her eyes while imposing her intact vigour. Under the yoke, she shouted with pleasure, subjugating her partner who decided to withdraw and take her in doggy style. Facing the sumptuous croup, the man felt one centimetre longer and conscientiously planed Corinne’s vaginal walls, which made it difficult for her to suffocate her screams in the lower sheet. Undoubtedly tireless, the man went to bed and invited him to ride him, which Corinne did all the more willingly because she wanted to see him naked. Impaled on him, she looked through his hairy chest and felt a very violent orgasm rise into his depths. She gave herself up by rolling her hips and finally, overwhelmed by the enthusiasm of his pseudo wife, Pierre Legrand expelled a spurt of semen from bottom to top which dripped on her lower abdomen after visiting Corinne’s den. She withdrew and absorbed the last drops of sperm from a voracious mouth. And they both found themselves side by side and panting across the bed.
After a few minutes, the man let go:
– God, you set me on fire, I hadn’t had sex like that in years.
– To tell you the truth, it wasn’t planned, but I had an erotic awakening and I fell on your dick, that’s all.
– My dick thanks you, it has received a treatment that she will not forget. You’re volcanic. And it’s a change from my wife.
– Oh, well, doesn’t your wife like to have sex?
– Unfortunately, less and less so, whereas I love it, which means that I often cheat on her.
– It doesn’t look like it from seeing you.
– I know, it’s a front, but I’m screwing up inside. Well, that’s not all, but we have to get ready for work, we have a tough day ahead of us.
After washing and having lunch, the fake couple headed for the company’s headquarters where the decisive meeting was waiting for them. Mr. Bettini was again very eager towards Corinne, who had put on a slightly less provocative jacket and trouser set. She made sure to sit at a distance from the Italian boss, but he had regained his businessman’s speech. After two hours of talking, the agreement was signed and we met in a small room for the aperitif to celebrate the event.
That’s when things went wrong. Mr. Bettini took Corinne by the arm and dragged her away from the room as if to tell her a secret. Attracted to a corner, she was then the object of a regular petting and the man tried to kiss her by putting his hand between her legs. Instinctively, Corinne slapped him and then Pierre Legrand ran over and sent Mr. Bettini a direct to the jaw which knocked him out. Strong emotion in the audience that had rushed into the nook to understand what had happened. The Italian words were bursting. Mr. Bettini slowly emerged from his k.o. by rubbing his jaw and released a rudeness towards Pierre Legrand and his “wife”, inviting both of them to empty the place. What they did. As for the agreement, it was obviously out of date.
In the street, Pierre Legrand and Corinne could not help laughing but it was a nervous laugh, perfectly aware of the consequences. Nevertheless, neither of them regretted reacting to the Italian’s sexual harassment, even though he was an important boss. Only one thing mattered to them now: fucking. In the hotel room, the clothes flew, the mouths united, Corinne’s thighs opened on Pierre Legrand’s stretched penis, which penetrated her and besognaed her with all her virility. Spaced, searched to her depths, Corinne mixed the shout of pleasure with the most raw encouragement, begging her lover to fuck her for a long time. She wanted it so much that she even offered to sodomize her, which she only granted in principle to her husband Christophe, and the man, too happy with the opportunity, was able to honor her sumptuous ass as he would not have dared to hope. It was at the bottom of his rectum that he ejaculated, offering Corinne a final burst of pleasure.
But it was time to return home and fly again, a mission not accomplished. The fake couple dissociated to find their way back to their penates. Corinne told her husband about the harassment she had experienced and her boss’ reaction, but of course not the next step. A detailed report was given to the big boss Mr. Richard. At her mine, Corinne understood that she would not get a bonus this time. As for Pierre Legrand, he hoped for a moment that his attitude would be understood, but the very hostile reaction of the shareholders made him understand that he had no choice but to resign. The failure of the agreement was attributed to him. He and Corinne met one last time at the hotel for a good part of the farewell fuck. Then she went back to her daily routine, thinking, every time she saw images of Rome, of the crazy day she had had there.