I had hoped to do some shopping before lunch but some last minute paperwork kept me busy until a phone call informed me the taxi was waiting. Downstairs the doorman walked me down the steps to the taxi and opened the door.

At the hotel I waited in the restaurant. A call on my mobile from the department head told me he was in a room upstairs. "I have some calls to make so have something to eat first then come up," he said.

I ordered something small and asked the waiter to fetch a newspaper. I wasn't interested in the news, unless it concerned the department, so, without a pen, saw how much of the crossword I could do as I nibbled through a slow meal.

Upstairs, the door to room 8102 was ajar so I entered and shut the door behind me. The department head, in an armchair,was talking on the phone, and acknowledged me with a small wave.

I went into the bathroom. I had an enema, a shower, used the shampoo and towelled off. Put on my body some powder and scent but no facial make-up. Still naked slipped into robe and joined him.

He was still talking, giving a colleague of mine some grief over a fuck-up he'd done. It was hard to repress a smile so I stared out the window, down at the slow crawl of the bumper to bumper traffic below. I felt I was still at work, with a job to do, but under pleasant and unstressed conditions.

It was gratifying to be a party to the secrets of the office and our head was relaxed in the knowledge I was discreet and loyal.

Finally he stopped talking so I approached him, undid his robe. I kissed his mouth, his neck, onto his chest and nipples. Down past his navel to his groin and took his cock into my mouth, felt it stiffen.

I've read about six inch cocks, eight and niners, but I can't quite visualize it; I just say this is bigger than so and so's, or smaller than average. His cock, not that long, had a nice thickness, thicker than most and agreeable. It had a circumcision scar down the shaft it giving it an interesting look . And it felt nice under the tongue.

He asked for full french please. Why he called cock sucking french I couldn't say; only it seemed a cute way of saying it. Full french meant he wanted to shoot his load into my mouth.

This womanizer had told me about two other girls, on separate occasions who had blown him, and had gagged on the semen. They had rushed to the bathroom to choke, hawk, spit and gargle noisily. "It can't be that bad, can it?" he'd said, looking puzzled.

Not wanting to spit it out onto the expensive carpet I swallowed, tasting the saltiness. I didn't looked fussed by it, indeed I found it surprisingly easy. I took a small scotch and water from the minibar and rinsed it around my mouth before swallowing that too.

We fooled around on the bed for a bit, kissing and foreplaying. He sucked on my tits, licked my clit, fondling and squeezing, before, at last, it rose again .

We fucked for a short time, minutes really, before he tired of that. I took the lube from my bag, greased my arse and around the head of his cock. I laid with my back to him. He came in behind me, and with an experienced touch, slid his thick prick gently in. A deep sigh and shudder told me that this is what he loved the most.

"I always go slow," he'd said,"to make it last longer."

Okay with me, take your time.

I knew from office gossip this is what he craved. "Fucking disgusting," said one girl.

I'd said in the lunch room one day, "What's the difference ? Front door or back, it's all the bloody same." I also mentioned I'd had a boyfriend who'd been inside ,"And you know what those ex-cons are like." It had the desired effect of reaching the ears of the man who mattered.

All lies of course, but what the fuck.

First I'd researched it on the internet. There's a wealth of stuff about how to sodomize and how to take it. I'd practised with a vibrator so was pretty confident I could handle it when the occasion arose. But the first time was shockingly painful; I did my best to hide my discomfit. Some one online had said I'd tensed up with nerves, but I don't know. Eventually it had gotten easier. Now with a slow entry I accept his buggery without too much worry.

You might even say I enjoy it. A slow, slow fuck and a furious finish. I know how to squeeze my sphincter down on his shaft to enhance his orgasm.

Well, we dozed. I opened my eyes and saw the illuminated numbers on the bedside clock. It was 7 pm. He stirred too. I watched him walk to the bathroom, totally nude. I didn't like or dislike him, I felt neutral. He was going home, and so was I.But not the same house. I was going to my home. To a nice weekend.

That was my Friday afternoon.