Camilla Ch. 058


As she had done on previous nights recently, Camilla used Nigrovum to help her stay awake after having had very little sleep; wearing tiger-skin tights (without underwear), black high heels, and her usual harlot-bright makeup, she waited in front of Agape’s house for Mr. Holland to pick her up in his car.

It was about 4:45 AM when his car stopped at the curb in front of her dad’s house. Mr. Holland got out of the car to get a better look at her. “What are you wearing, baby?” he asked as he ogled her.

“Do you like it?” she asked, turning around for him. “I know you prefer dresses and skirts, but this is kinda sexy too, eh?”

“It sure is, my tempting little tigress,” he said, looking up and down at her. “Look, you even have a camel-toe.”

“Yeah,” she said, giggling. “Wanna touch?”

“Definitely.” He stroked her between the legs with his right hand, and she closed her eyes, moaning softly. His left hand caressed her buttocks, moving up and down her anal cleft, then moved up to fondle her right breast. “No undies…wonderful.”

“Sir,” she sighed. “As much as…I love the way…you touch me, if you continue…I’ll come, and mess up…my clothes.”

“You’re right,” he said. “We’ve gotta get going to the airport, anyway. Get in the car, sweetie; I’ll put your bag in the trunk.”


They arrived at le Chalet, their hotel in Montreal, at about 10 AM. As soon as the bellboy left them alone in their room, Camilla unzipped her tights at the back.

“Wait, cupcake,” he said. “I’m gonna be too busy for that right now. Wait till tonight, OK?”

“OK,” she said, having already pulled off the tights and removing her shoes. “But I want to take a shower. I feel dirty.”

Looking at her frontally naked body, he said, “You don’t seem that way to me…at least not on the outside.” She giggled and went into the bathroom.

She had her shower as he went over his business papers; he continued his work after she finished up in the bathroom and went to bed nude for a nap. It took all of his strength to refrain from pulling away the blankets and admiring that body with his hands and mouth, but he had to finish preparing what he would do that afternoon.

At about 1 PM, he was finished, and he had to wake her up. He wouldn’t do so without having a little fun, though.

He carefully pulled the blankets away so as not to disturb her. She lay on her belly with her legs open in a thin Lambda shape; he gazed on her naked beauty, adoring her softness and curves. He gently and slowly opened her buttocks, careful not to wake her, and brought his mouth down to her exposed anus. He tongued it while closing her buttocks against either side of his face. She still hadn’t woken, but she sighed softly, as though his excitations were improving her dreams. Then he slowly slid his right index finger inside her vagina; reaching her G-spot, he massaged it briefly. He gently kissed her anus.

“Oh,” Camilla moaned, waking up and looking back at her boss. “Do you like that, sir?”

“Oh,” he said, raising his head up suddenly. “Sorry, sweetie; I couldn’t resist. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Oh, I liked it; best wake-up I ever had.” She rolled over, showing off her large breasts and pubic hair. Then she yawned and stretched, pushing her breasts out for his hungry eyes to see.

Resisting temptation for the sake of being on time, he said, “Get dressed, honey. We have to get to the first factory by 2 PM. Don’t wear that tiger-skin outfit, though. We won’t be able to concentrate on our work.”

“OK, I’ll put on a dress.” She got off the bed, and as she walked over to her luggage he spanked her ass. She took out a tight-fitting brown dress and matching high heels. “Do you want me to wear underwear, Mr. Holland?”

“Whichever you prefer, cupcake.”

“OK, I won’t.”


After their visit to the factories, they joined his Quebec associates in a fancy restaurant for a business dinner. Mr. Holland and M. Larre were sitting opposite Camilla at their table for five, and both men were eyeing her lasciviously.

As the four businesspeople (one of whom was a fat woman in her fifties) were discussing what could be done in the factories to improve efficiency and prevent future product malfunctions, Camilla–though taking notes above the table–had removed her right shoe and slid her foot under Mr. Holland’s crotch. Gently sliding her foot back and forth, she massaged his erection.

She found Mr. Larre, 48, with streaks of grey hair embellishing his black hair, as attractive as her boss. He dropped his fork under the table; Camilla used Nigrovum to distract the other three so he, unnoticed, could search under the table for it…and see whatever else might have been of interest. She also psychically emboldened and prodded him, so he promptly got under the table.

A split-second accidental look up the fat woman’s skirt made him quickly turn his head away in disgust; then he looked up Camilla’s Gaziantep Escort dress and saw her glorious pussy. Her legs were spread open, and her fingers pulled her labia wide open. Seeing her foot rubbing against Holland’s boner, M. Larre softly snickered to himself; then he brought his hand over to her cunt and slowly slid his finger inside. He gently pushed it in deeper and pulled it out again… in, out, in, out. She got wetter and wetter.

Sighing softly with her mouth slightly open and her eyes half-closed, Camila tried to hide her excitement from the others at the table. Mr. Holland noticed, but assumed she was hot from touching him. Larre pushed his finger several times against her A-spot, and she, pretending to cough, came in his cupped hand. (Her dress was flipped up, so she didn’t make a mess on it.) He drank her come, licked his hand, got his fork, and got up to rejoin the others. She used her napkins to clean up the mess on her chair.

When they finished their dinner, M. Larre chatted with Camilla by the restaurant cash register as their bill was being settled.

“So, what are you doing later tonight, Camilla?” he asked.

Knowing what he was implying, she said, “Sorry; Mr. Holland wants me to be with him tonight. He’s my boss, and I must obey him.”

“Of course, that’s part of your jo-, uh, respon-“

“No, no,” she whispered with a grin and taking no offence at what he obviously meant. “I’m just his secretary, not a prostitute.”

“Oh, I’m sorry if I seemed to be implying…”

“Oh, no, that’s OK. He’s not paying me for what you saw me doing under the table. I like doing things like that for him.”

“Why do you like doing that, Camilla?”

“Because it pleases him,” she answered in all candour.

“I see,” he said with a lewd smile. “Lucky guy. You like, uh, pleasing men?”

“If I like them. You ever come down to Toronto?”

“Often. In fact, I’ll be there at a party next Friday. I’d love to have you accompany me. Would you like to come?”

“I’d love to!” she squealed with a smile. “I love to party.”

“How can I contact you next week?”

“Do you know a strip joint called Club Ritz?”

“Yes,” he said. “I go there every time I visit Toronto.”

“Great. I’m there every night to see my girlfriend, Candice; she strips there. She’s a really hot-looking redhead. I’m sure you’d like her.”

“Great. I’ll see you there, and your friend can join us, if she wants to come.”

They all left the restaurant, and Mr. Holland and Camilla said goodbye to M. Larre and the other two. Then she and her boss decided to check out the night life in Montreal.

A taxicab driver recommended a hot dance club, and he drove them there. They went inside, eager to have some fun. He bought them some beers at the bar, and they went over to the dance floor, which was packed with sweating people. Up high, they could see male and female go-go dancers in chic outfits expertly moving their desirable bodies in cages to inspire everyone down on the dance floor.

With loud techno music and flashing lights assailing their senses from all directions, the two lovers danced in a frenzy. Camilla shook her head, tits, and ass with wild abandon, and Holland loved watching her move. Staring in each other’s eyes, they got up close and started gyrating their hips together, as if they were fucking in front of everybody.


Several hours later, they returned to their hotel. As they walked down the hall, clumsy from tipsiness, they laughed and kept each other from falling.

“Oh, that was fun,” she said as they reached their room.

“Yeah,” he said, taking their room key out of his pocket. “OK, I wanna take a shower. You get in bed and wait for me.” After they got in their room, he spanked her behind as she shuffled ahead, unzipping her dress and kicking off her high heels. After getting in the bathroom, he said to himself, “Miles Holland gets lucky at last.”

Ten minutes later, he came out of the bathroom naked and saw her naked on the bed on all fours: her legs were wide open and her ass pushed out so her anus and vulva were in plain view. She looked forward to the wall, waiting for him to surprise her. Her tube of anal lube lay on her right side on the bed, and the sight of her pretty, puckered, brown asshole let him know exactly what to do.

He got on the bed behind her, took the lube, and lubed his hard cock and her rectum thoroughly. “Ready or not, here I come,” he said, aiming for her ass.

“OK, sir,” she said, sighing with salacious expectation. “But don’t come till I’ve been thoroughly drilled, OK?” She giggled at that.

“Absolutely,” he grunted as he pushed the tip of his cock against her happily opening anal orifice.

She looked back at him as he slid his cock in a few inches; she squinted and opened her mouth wide, moaning and sighing as his cock went in deeper.

When he got in halfway, he asked, “Does Gaziantep Escort Bayan it hurt?”

“No, sir,” she groaned. “Ah! If it…pleases you, I’m happy…Oh!”

He slid all the way in and grunted loudly with delight. “That feels…so good! Ah!” He kept pushing in and pulling out, stretching and widening her rectum. He felt her tits as he fucked her tight ass, kissing her on the back. “The wife…would never…let me…enjoy this…with her. Ah!”

“I’m glad…I could fill…that void…for you, sir.”

“I thought…I was filling…your void,” he panted; she giggled between groans. “Lemme fill…your other void.” He pulled his cock out and, poised to give it to her doggy-style, he pushed the tip against her vaginal opening.

“Oh, thank you, sir,” she sighed as it entered. “Oh!”

He slid his cock in three inches; his corpus spongiosum brushed against her G-spot. She screamed with pleasure from that delicious sensation. As he pushed in deeper, her sighs grew louder and higher in pitch. By the time his cock had got all the way in and his knob kissed her A-spot, she gushed her first orgasm; his cock and balls were soaking. He kept thrusting, and the tip of his dick kept pecking away at her A-spot. She gushed some more.

“Oh, my God!” she screamed. “Ah!”

As his thrusts continued, she made her vagina constrict and hug his phallus tightly. Admiring her still wide-open asshole, which was agape, it seemed, with amazement at what his cock could do, he fingered the wrinkles of its orifice.

“I’m gonna come,” he panted.

“Wanna…spray it…on my ass?” she asked with a shaking voice. “Oh!”

He pulled his cock out right when he was on the verge of ejaculating; then he splashed his discharge all over her beautiful, round buttocks. Some jizz got on her anal cleft, just below the top of the crack, and the rest splashed all over her left buttock. They lay on the bed–him on his back and her on her belly–and slowly regained their breath.

“That was…a fuck to remember,” he panted.

“Oh, yeah,” she sighed.

“Why did I…have to marry…such an awful…woman?”

“She must have been…better when you…were dating.”

“Yeah, but…marriage changes things.” He stared at his come, which so prettily adorned her ass.

“I wish you could leave her, sir.” She looked in his eyes with compassion for how he suffered from such an abusive wife.

“Leave her, yeah…and marry you?” he asked, stroking her hair.

“Oh, I didn’t mean it like that…I’m not the marrying kind…I like my freedom…Sorry.”

“I understand. Let’s get some sleep.”

“I’ll clean up first,” she said, then went to the bathroom and washed his come off in the shower.


They woke up at 7:30 on Sunday morning.

“Come on, sweetie,” he said, yawning. “Let’s get some breakfast.” She got out of bed, and he sat on the side of it. “How depressing: I’ve gotta go back and face the bitch this afternoon. The party’s over.”

“Not yet, sir,” she said, kneeling before him. “Not necessarily; want a blow job?”

“I’d love one,” he grunted, opening his legs, which she got in between. She played with his cock to get it hard, and brought her face up close to the knob.

“Do you want to come in my mouth, or on my face?”

“On your pretty face, please?”

Looking up in his eyes with a lewd smile, she sighed, “You’re my boss, and I must obey you.” She immediately started kissing and licking the tip of his cock.

He looked down at her as she put his erection in her mouth. With such bad luck in choosing a wife, he couldn’t believe his good fortune in meeting this slut with a heart of gold. His wife treated him like a ‘retard’, as she in her meanness too often called him; Camilla, in her sweet, willing submission, treated him like a king. Her wet lips slid up and down his shaft, and her fingers gently jiggled his balls. She always had her eyes fixed on his as she sucked, ever communicating her desire to please him with her mouth as best she could. She took his cock out and licked his bulging corpus spongiosum from bottom to top; then she put his balls in her mouth and sucked on his scrotum while jerking him off just enough to keep him hard, but not enough to make him come.

She took his balls out of her mouth and took his cock back in, deep-throating it. His pubic hair tickled her face and poked at her eyes. She felt him about to ejaculate, and just when he’d reached the point of no return she pulled her head back, making a popping sound when his knob came out of her mouth. Keeping his dick pointed at her face, she made sure he came all over it. “Ah!” she screamed and squinted when the first blast splattered against her left eye and upper nose. She giggled when the second spewing hit her right cheek. She continued giggling and screaming as the other shots soaked her lips, nose, and left cheek. Wiping the come out of her eye with her finger and Escort Gaziantep looking up at him with a lascivious grin, she giggled like a little girl and said, “I’ll all gooey.”

“Yes, you are,” he said, looking down at her. “The sweetest girl I’ve ever known.”

“Ooh,” she said suddenly. “I’ve gotta go to the bathroom.” She got up, and he followed her in. She sat on the toilet and began peeing. Looking up at him, she spread her legs open so he could see. He admired the golden line pouring down, and wished his penis wasn’t spent.

“Baby, you piss apple juice,” he said.

“Thank you,” she said with a grin and another giggle. His come continued dripping down her cheeks and off her nose and chin. She finished peeing, then reached for the toilet paper. As she wiped herself, her labia were opened for his viewing pleasure; she just looked up at him with the innocent eyes of a child and let him enjoy the show.

“I’d love to watch you poop again,” he said as she reached over to flush the toilet. “I wanna see more of those chocolate bar turds fall out of your beautiful ass.”

“I can give myself an enema, sir,” she said, getting up. “I brought my enema nozzle and stuff, ’cause I thought you’d be into that. Shall we do that?”

“Oh, yes,” he groaned. “You are soooooo considerate, sweetie.”

She went over to her bag, got out her enema nozzle, and got everything ready. When she returned to the toilet, he was getting an erection again. He helped her put the thing up her ass, and she stroked his cock. As the liquid went inside, she squirmed and fidgeted on the toilet, feeling cramping and urgency; then her shit all came pouring out.

She continued jerking him off as she shat. “What do you call a scat porno movie based on a Roald Dahl children’s story?” he asked, panting to the sensitive strokes of her hand.

“I dunno,” she said, playing with his cock and grunting as the cascade of shit kept coming out of her asshole. “What?”

“Willy Wanking and the Chocolate Factory.” Imagining the pleasure she was feeling from her evacuation’s massaging of her rectal walls, he was approaching orgasm.

She giggled at his weird joke; when she finished crapping, he–enjoying the smell–came on her breasts. She looked down at herself and saw his come dripping off her right nipple. Always aware of the come still dripping off her face, she said, “I think it’s time I took a shower.”

“OK,” he said, “but first, can I wipe your pretty asshole clean?” He got on his knees.

“Sure,” she said, flushing the toilet and getting down on the floor on all fours. She gave him the toilet paper, spread her legs out wide, and pointed her behind toward his face so he could see her dirty asshole. He wiped the brown off, sniffing away and admiring the sight of the beige wrinkles of her anus as they appeared once the shit had been wiped away. Then she got in the shower.


Back in Toronto, Camilla went to dinner with her father and his girlfriend, Carrie, who was in a sexy red dress. It was difficult for Camilla to sustain a phoney smile the whole time they were eating and talking. Indeed, Carrie was pretty and seemed nice, but jealous Camilla would be happy only if that woman was out of their lives forever.

“So, Camilla,” Carrie asked, “you’re going to follow in your father’s footsteps and be a professor of literature too, eh?”

“Yeah,” Camilla said. “I hope so.”

“I’m sure she can,” Agape said. “She has the brains to do it.”

“I know where I get them from, Daddy,” she said, beaming at him.

“Yep,” Carrie added. “Your dad’s certainly a smart one, and a kind one; that’s why I love him so.” She kissed him on the lips. Camilla’s smile instantly turned into a frown that she tried to hide.

Tonight Miles has to be with a woman he doesn’t like, and so do I, Camilla thought. She couldn’t wait for Candice to get a chance to fuck Agape, and–it was to be hoped–make him not want Carrie anymore.


They went to Agape’s house, and Carrie said goodbye to Camilla at the front door.

“It was so nice finally meeting you, Camilla,” Carrie said.

“N-nice meeting you, too,” Camilla forced out.

Agape kissed Carrie on the lips. Camilla winced a the sight of it. “Goodnight, honey,” he said. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, sweetie,” Carrie said. “Goodnight.” She went to her car and drove away.

Camilla and Agape went inside the house. “Well, what do you think of her, Camilla?” he asked.

“She seems very nice,” Camilla said. Trying her best not to look disapproving, she asked, “Are you gonna marry her?”

“It looks that way,” he said with a smile as they went into the living room. “I haven’t popped the question yet, but I’m getting bold.”

“Well, I say let’s celebrate,” she said as she, taking her purse, went into the kitchen to get drinks for both of them.

“Good idea,” he said, putting on some music and sitting down. “Do you still have any of that pot?”

“I sure do,” she said as she took a pill of ecstasy out of her purse and put half in his bourbon. Mixing it all together, she asked, “Can we have Candice come over? She’s lonely in that apartment all by herself.” She brought his drink and a beer for herself into the living room.

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