Click cover to enlarge it
It was Henry David Thoreau, in Walden, who remarked, “The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation.” This statement appears to be just as true today as it was then. Perhaps it is even more valid today, considering the pressures and frequent monotony of modern society.
The majority of today’s men and women live in an overcrowded, competitive, noisy world. Most are put into slots and walk on a treadmill — going to boring jobs, living in carbon-copy houses, socializing with the same people. Their desperation is reflected in the rising rate of divorce, alcoholism, drug addiction, and at times is frighteningly released through violent and seemingly unmotivated crime.
The fictional characters in THE WILLING SECRETARY are desperate people, like their real life counterparts. Bored, frustrated, unhappy, they seize at the first opportunity for release. In their need, they cast aside morals and scruples, determined to live only for the moment, to grab at pleasure before it is taken away.
THE WILLING SECRETARY is a novel about the “quiet desperation” in so many of us — and the extremes to which it may drive us.
“Oh, fucking Christ! I’m gonna come!”
Eric Stafford grabbed the armrests of his desk chair and screamed. He spread his legs farther apart to allow Becky Morris more room to suck on his hot cock.
“Eat it! Faster! Squeeze my balls!”
She reached in to caress his taut ball-sac, digging her red fingernails into the rough hairy skin surrounding his balls. Her mouth worked furiously around his throbbing cock. Great strands of spit leaked from around her slurping lips, spilling across her chin and onto Eric’s balls. She kneaded the warm sac with her practiced hand.
Becky slurped and sucked as he moved his asscheeks faster and faster, slapping them up and down against his leather chair as he tried to mouth fuck her as deeply as possible.
“This is it, baby! I’m gonna shoot my wad into your guts! Keep on sucking. Yeah!”
Fictional reading for entertainment purposes only.