Everyone Says Sweet Nothings, I Say Things A Bit Nasty

Why I picked up the habit of speaking nasty I don't know. I became foulmouthed around the time I went through puberty. I got study hall, suspended, counseled, you name it. But nothing stopped me from calling other girls 'c**ts' and boys 'assholes'.

I was already working on my job as an HR Generalist when I slipped up in a mixed sex meeting with the head of our division. I said 'tear her a new asshole' referring to a woman in another section. The room went quiet, I knew in that moment I had been out of line, but that 'c**t' deserved it, she's a 'bitch' if there ever was one.

I sat in front of our head of division, the Managing Director. He stared at me, until my foot couldn't stop shaking. He looked down his nose at me 'I thought you were a lady'. I apologized, I told him about my bad habit. Without changing his expression he said maybe you need someone to tear you a new asshole. All I could answer was 'maybe'.

I controlled myself, especially in front of him, not that my asshole didn't pucker when he spoke to me. Long gone was Mr. Andrews, he was Mike now, and he opted for tender nicknames instead of Margaret. It was one proverbial afternoon when he called me on the phone 'sweetheart can you get me a cup of coffee?'. It never occurred to me he had a secretary, or that his request was sexist. All I heard was 'sweetheart' and I was up and running.

When the day came for me to bend over, with my eyes closed and my heart thumping, I wondered if the day had come when he was going to tear me a new one. I felt his sweet dick rub up against me and slip into my vagina. I relaxed, and savored the moment. I was his sweetheart, his favorite, his office honey. When he poked my asshole, and went deep until he was ball's to the walls, I lost my composure 'yes! you know I love you'.