The Chosen One

"How do you know this, Lauren? And why didn't you tell me?"

Lauren sighed, apologizing. "I didn't think you would be his type, Yolanda. I still didn't believe it at first, even when he arranged that you'd sit with him. But that was silly of me, in hindsight. You're by far the most gorgeous woman here. I just didn't think......" Lauren's voice trailed off.

"....That he'd choose a black girl?" Yolanda finished Lauren's sentence for her.

"Well, yeah. Nothing against you, Yolanda," Lauren added quickly. "I just always took Devlin for the ultimate sexist pig, so I guess I just assumed he'd be racist, too."

"How do you know about all this, Lauren?" Yolanda asked, gripping her mentor by the elbow. "Tell me."

Lauren looked at her with a look of embarrassment, blushing, lowering her head. "Because I was "The Chosen One" six years ago, Yolanda."

Yolanda lifted her palm to her face, and despite herself, tried to hide a giggle. "Oh my God, Lauren, you? Oh, God. Not in a million years would I have thought......."

Lauren nodded bashfully. "Yep. Hey, I was new, young, dumb, and drunk. Just like you, Yolanda, no disrespect with the "dumb" comment, but geez, did you not have ANY idea? C'mon. By the way, how drunk are you, anyway?"

"Pretty drunk," Yolanda admitted. There was an awkward few seconds of silence before Yolanda asked for more direction. "Should I do it? Should I go up? What are the consequences if I don't?"

Lauren eyed Yolanda earnestly. "Well, being very candid, the last Chosen One to refuse a few years ago, some bubble-headed bitch from Frisco that thought she was God's gift, well, let's just say they found a reason to "downsize" her position shortly thereafter. They outsourced her responsibilities for a year and then re-hired someone else twelve months later. All very legal. No fuss, no muss, no real cause or evidence for a lawsuit."

Yolanda was absorbing all of this as Lauren went on. "So, professionally, it would be like signing a death certificate, at least in this company. Greg Herbert protects Devlin at all costs."

Lauren added one more thing for Yolanda to consider. "Do you think it was coincidence that I was promoted? Virtually all of the other regional marketing managers have been The Chosen One at one time or another. Rumor has it that Lisa Quinn was the first."

"Lisa Quinn, the senior VP of marketing?" Yolanda asked. Lisa Quinn was the highest-ranked woman executive in the company, a tall, striking blonde in her mid-forties.

"The one and only. She was a catalog model and an actress in a local playhouse before she joined the company here, so do you think she's there on merit, because of her experience or industry knowledge? Please....."

Yolanda's shoulders sagged. "Shit. What do I do, Lauren? What do I do?"

"Well, you know me, girlfriend, I always give it to ya straight. So, let me give you one other thing to think about." Lauren leaned in closer to her subordinate. "Devlin may be a arrogant fuck, but he's hung like the proverbial anaconda. I haven't had too many, but I've had enough to know that I've never seen one like that." Lauren's eyes went to the distance momentarily. "Not even a close second."

Yolanda was already staring to become aware that she was slowly feeling her body react the longer this conversation went on, especially with the revelation that her own boss once fucked the Chief Operating Officer and could provide a first-hand account of what to expect. But this disclosure caused a full-fledged gush of humidity into her G-string. "Really?"

Lauren still stared at an unknown image towards the ceiling, quietly reminiscing. "Oh, yeah. Huge doesn't describe it. And the stamina of a war horse, too. The best fuck ever, that's for sure. And the good thing is, once he's had you once, maybe twice, he moves to his next victim and you're forever branded with a positive recommendation. He gets bored, I guess, always looking for a new deal."

For the first time, Yolanda's responsive nipples were visible beneath the material of her dress. This did not go unnoticed by Lauren. "By the looks of things, girl, I'd say you are becoming more receptive to the concept. Remember, what happens at convention....."

Yolanda finished Lauren's sentence again. "...stays at convention!" The women co-conspirators now, giggled and fist bumped.

"C'mon," Lauren said, taking Yolanda by the hand. "Let me get you a shot or two to relieve the anxiety. It won't be the worst night of your life, I'll tell you that. Oh, but one last thing...."

"Is it bad? Tell me it's not bad."

Lauren coaxed two last gin gimlets out of the bartender by all but flashing her big tits at the man for incentive. They clinked glasses as a toast, guzzled the shot, and then Lauren dropped the other shoe.

"Is it bad? Well, I suppose that's how you feel about such things. You see, um, Devlin's sort of an ass freak."

Yolanda was hoping this was what she thought it could be. "What do you mean, he's an ass freak?"

"He's going to spend a lot of time on your, um, hind quarters. Fingers, tongue, he's into anal play. I let him go that far, he licked me, fingered me, ate my ass. But then he wanted to stick that big fucking monster of his in my poop chute, and that's where I drew the line. Hell, if I said yes to that, I might have Lisa Quinn's job today. But I was afraid I'd never be able to sit down again."

Lauren gave her friend a hug. "Good luck, girl. And I want details in the A.M. Well, not all the details, maybe. And, don't worry, it's in the vault. It's convention time, right? Have fun."

*****************

Yolanda hesitated outside of Room 1412 before slipping the keycard into the slot. She could play this one of two ways, she figured. She could be submissive and acquiesce willingly to each of Devlin's demands. That would be easiest, just to get it over with.

Or she could play it another way. Be the aggressor. Try to assert a level of control so that things wouldn't get out of hand, and possibly, just possibly, maximize both her sexual pleasure and her career ascent. After all, Devlin wanted to fuck her a lot more than she wanted to fuck Devlin. Although the prospect was becoming more enticing with each tremble deep within her cunt.

She took a deep breath. Risk, reward, she said to herself. Why not? She was just intoxicated enough to think the latter was a good plan.

Devlin had his back to her when she walked in tentatively, her heart racing, but her pussy damp. He was looking out of the window at the cityscape, or at least pretending to do so. In fact, he was watching her reflection in the plate glass. He immediately became half-erect. Her scent filled the suite. There was the unmistakable aroma of female desire mixed with the perfume, lotions, and alcohol.

"You're a few minutes late, Miss McCarter," he said, turning towards her. "I was beginning to think that you had chosen not to take me up on my invitation. That would have disappointed me."

Yolanda smiled at the man. She couldn't help but agree that he was very handsome. Well-preserved for a man in his late forties. He no doubt used his good looks and charm to get ahead in the business world, much like a beautiful woman would, yet with different methods perhaps. It really wasn't the worst thing in the world, Yolanda reasoned in her liquor-induced mindset.

"I was just enjoying another cocktail to two. I certainly had no intention of disappointing you. And, please, I appreciate the formality, but, please, don't call me Miss McCarter anymore. John......." She called him by his first name consciously, to set the tone that they were now equals on this private playing field, where the competitors would try to outdo the other.

He grinned at her spunkiness. She must be very drunk, he thought. He liked drunk. Spunkiness, not so much. He wasn't patient enough for spunkiness.

"Turn sideways, Yolanda, I haven't gotten a very good look at that lovely dress from the side." She made a ninety-degree turn, hands on hips.

He sighed heavily. "Yolanda, if you'll kindly accept this compliment, you just might have the nicest ass I have ever seen."

She stuck her plump lower lip out in a mock pout. "Just....'might have', John? You mean, I have a potential peer?" She asked teasingly.

Devlin smacked his lips unwittingly. "Well, of course, I haven't really seen it. Nor explored it. Yet."

Yolanda walked towards the man, closing in on him in front of the window. 'Well, I'm sure you'll render your verdict soon enough then." She surprised the powerful executive by pressing her body to his and placing her full lips right on his, kissing him passionately. She placed her long, wet tongue into his mouth and slowly began to run it around the inside of his own warm mouth, sucking on his tongue, lightly biting on his lower lip.

He moaned into her mouth, legitimately astonished at this brazen show of wanton lust by the young vixen. She released her lips from his when he started to caress her legs and tried to ease his hand up the back of her dress. "You know, John," she whispered huskily, breathing into his ear. "I was going to invite you to my room. What a fortuitous coincidence that you asked me first."

She kissed the older man again, hotly. His hands pulled her at her slender hips and pulled her closer. She looked at him with those cat-like eyes when she ended this hungry liplock after perhaps twenty seconds of escalating heat. "You just beat me to it." She glanced over her shoulder, nodding towards the oversized bed which took up most of the bedroom area in this suite. "And we have a much bigger playground that we would have in my room. Very nice."

She walked away from Devlin and towards the bed, patting it, making a show of bending over to display her ass. Devlin's massive cock was almost at full salute now in his suitpants.

"Great minds think alike then, Yolanda. Tell me," he said, taking the bait. "....do you make a habit of making such invitations to men that you've just met?"

"Oh, I don't have many habits, John. I would call it more spontaneous. Is that so bad?" She smiled at him seductively. "Would you mind if I went into the bathroom for a moment. I may want to rid myself of this dress. Wouldn't want to wrinkle it, you know." Her eyes twinkled as she licked her lips.

"Please, be my guest. There is a plush robe on the hanger on the back of the door. Feel free to use the robe if you like and hang your dress on that hanger." He gestured towards the bathroom.

She walked slowly away from him, purposefully sashaying her hips. "Christ," Devlin thought, reaching onto the nightstand for a breath mint as the bathroom door closed. "Have I hit the fucking jackpot with this slut. What a wildcat. Good thing I took that Cialis. This might be the first time I really need one."

Devlin started to remove his own clothing and was just beginning to slide his pants down his legs when Yolanda emerged from the bathroom. She wasn't in there very long, he thought, looking up from the chair in which he had sat down to undress.

Before him stood a vision of unimaginable chocolate delight with her light skin, bewitching eyes, and full boobs tapering down to a flat tummy. And, of course, that ass.....

Yolanda let the straps of her bra hang loosely down over her arms, so that the tops of her dark brown areolas were half-exposed. The bra was literally being held up by her erect nipples, which served as impromptu garment hangers. The snug lavender G-string was essentially being swallowed by her swollen labia, and she had already undid the snaps that held the garters to the stockings so that they dangled on her lean thighs. The gap between her legs and her vagina, yes, "THE gap", was at least two inches. She had kept those periwinkle heels on, too, for the proper effect.

She turned her back to him as he began to stroke his cock through his boxers. She unsnapped the back hooks of her bra and tossed it on the floor. She turned back around, her arms crossed over her breasts to tease, and she ever so slowly let one hand drop down to expose her left tit, and she lifted it with her hand, brought it towards her mouth, lowered her chin, and began to lick the huge nipple with her tongue.

"Sssshhhhiiiitttt," Devlin hissed softly, the letters escaping from his lips like a balloon losing air, truly in awe of this unexpected display of raw sexuality.

Devlin sat back in his chair, his legs spreading the way a man's do when they are sitting themselves down at a strip club. It's really the only socially accepted venue where a man can sit like that, when you think about it. His boxers tented to show the arousal that she had caused within his prodigious member.

"I wouldn't have had you as a boxer man, John," Yolanda said, watching his cock twitch within the confines of the plaid boxers while still licking her nipple lewdly.

Devlin did not see the immediate need to explain that briefs were perpetually uncomfortable for a man of his size. More times than not, especially in casual settings, he went commando, but that would have been scandalous at work. He was already walking a precipitous tightrope with all of his extracurricular activities. He didn't need to walk around the boardroom with Uncle Willie dangling down to his knee.

Yolanda took the bow of the G-string that was on her right hip, untied it, and flashed her glistening pussy at Devlin, just for a second, before tying the string back on her hip. "Peek-a-boo," she said. "Now let me see you."

This was the moment that Devlin lived for, when he could see the look on a woman's face when they got a view of his cock for the first time. It reminded him of the look that his sixth-grade classmates would get thirty-five years earlier when he would show them the Playboy magazine he had pilfered from his older brother's collection. A look of mesmerized fascination, jaws dropping with spellbound reverence.

Despite her best efforts, this was the exact look that came over Yolanda's countenance when Devlin lowered the hem of his boxers to reveal his pride and joy in all its glory.

She gasped audibly. Yolanda had watched her share of porn with well-endowed white men (her favorite), yet this was ten times better. The first thing she noticed was the impossibly thick vein traversing along the shaft from the root until it disappeared into the mushroom cockhead. It was like the Colorado River winding through a granite valley.

It was also about as thick as one of those old-time retro Coca-Cola bottles, inches around at its widest circumference, and then tapering down to a tip that was just calling out to be sucked. Yolanda was by no means an expert in estimating penile measurements, but her tight vagina was once the recipient of a plump eight-inch dildo, and the dildo would have lost a one-on-one contest by at least a inch in length and girth.

She made a mental note to never again question anything that Lauren warned her about.

Devlin leered at her, delighted at the reaction that his massive cock had evoked. Again. He slapped his cock against his thigh lazily like a backyard cook slapping meat on the grill. The sound of the cock against the skin bounced off the walls of the hotel suite. His next words were unambiguous.

"Suck it," he ordered, like Caligula announcing the games to commence.

It took every fiber of Yolanda's self-control to resist. Against her better judgment, she held firm. "No."

"No?" The look of shock on Devlin's face was sincere. He didn't like the word to begin with, and couldn't remember ever hearing it in this particular context. Usually by this time, a woman was lapping on his shaft like a kitten with a milk bowl. He repeated the question, still making sure he had heard correctly. "No?"

Yolanda walked away from the man instead of towards him, another development that Devlin was unaccustomed to. She crawled up on the mattress and got on all fours, placed her buttocks up in the air, her legs hanging over the edge. "Maybe I should say, 'not yet'. I know that's the biggest cock I've ever seen, but you seemed unsure if this was the best ass you'd ever seen, and I think it's time you rendered an educated verdict, just to be sure."

She pulled her buttocks apart, and looked at Devlin with her head upside down, peering at him between her parted legs.

"Eat my ass, John. First things first."

With that bold dare, the balance of power had shifted unequivocally to Yolanda. It was a stroke of strategic genius that would have been the envy of any military general versed in psychological warfare.

Devlin hesitated for a few seconds, remaining in his chair, idly handling his cock as a baker would knead a wad of dough. Like any practiced negotiator, he was weighing what he truly wanted. Though he was used to getting everything in past forums such as this, he figured that this was just altering the normal cadence of events just a bit. He rose and shrugged his shoulders almost in a "what the hell" gesture, and sank to his knees on the floor behind Yolanda.

Yolanda moaned as the experienced man's tongue and lips explored both Yolanda's pussy and anus. Lauren was right on this tip, also. Devlin was a definite ass freak. He ran his tongue first up and down between Yolanda's slit and asshole, and then in and out, fucking both of her holes with a knowing touch. He was surprisingly gentle, and their mutual groans indicated that they were both deriving great pleasure from this exercise.

Yolanda was used to most men, Brad included, licking Yolanda's pussy as if they were trying to beat an expiring parking meter. It was just something to do feign loving attention. But Devlin, wow, Devlin was a true connoisseur of the elusive art of analingus.

Devlin inserted two fingers deep into Yolanda's cunt, which now dripped nectars all over Devlin's face. He then pushed upward to massage her upper vaginal walls, finding her spongy g-spot expertly, and flattened his tongue simultaneously into Yolanda's dark anal tunnel.

She exploded in a convulsive orgasm, her pussy spewing fluids liberally, soaking John's face, and her back door clamped down over Devlin's tongue, essentially holding it in place as she writhed, gripping the bedspread so that she wouldn't collapse and smother John's face.

Yolanda decided to roll the dice, pushing her luck. In for a dime......

She sneered over her shoulder at the COO, whose tongue was still buried in her anal channel, his fingers in her cunt. "That's it, you little asslicking bitch. Who's in control now, bitch boy? So, what's your vote? Best ass or not? Or do you need to taste more, you pussy."

A low rumble began deep within Devlin's throat and he roared into Yolanda's asshole, rimming her wildly while removing the fingers that were just in Yolanda's snatch and depositing them into her asshole, up to the second knuckles.

No woman had ever dared talked to him like this, and he was drunk with lust. Like a bully who changes his ways once stood up to, Devlin was lost in the mysterious mental manipulations of this woman more than twenty years his junior.

He was perpetually in control in business and with women, always. And now, tonight, Yolanda had transformed him into assuming a subservient role, being verbally abused, compliant to her orders. He was never more turned on.

Devlin had an epiphany right about this moment. It was tremendously refreshing to relinquish control to a woman who obviously relished anal play as much as he enjoyed dispensing it. Yolanda's attitude towards the conquest served to alter Devlin's own perspective full-circle. He went from getting off on domination to being excited about the true pleasure that he was providing to Yolanda.

The young woman flipped over on her stomach, recovering from the aftershocks of the several orgasms that had electrocuted her body, and motioned for Devlin to rise. "Now," she said, looking up at him, licking her full lips. "Now it's time to suck this magnificent cock."