I’m a twenty-five-year-old secretary at a rather prestigious brokerage house on Wall Street. And every day, usually while I eat my lunch in my cubicle, I fantasize fucking the company’s chairman of the board.

He’s a little seventy-year-old man with a halo of white hair surrounding his bald head, a crinkled-up bulbous nose and a genteel manner. I think he’d be a wonderful bed partner.

Most of the men in the office where I work think I’m one of the sexiest women they’ve ever met. They’re always coming on to me, telling me how beautiful I am. The compliments are nice, but I’m not some naive kid. I know what these young guys really want. They just want a one-night roll on the feathers, a suck, a fuck and a smoke. What do I get out of it but maybe a dinner and cab fare home. This I don’t need.

Wendell, on the other hand, is special. I can tell. At Christmas he always makes a point of stopping by and wishing me a good holiday, he always sends me flowers on my birthday, and he makes a point of opening doors. He treats a lady really well. He’s a true gentleman and a pleasure to behold. I realize that the age difference would make some people tilt their heads in wonder, but Wendell turns me on. He makes me feel pretty and important. I like that.

I realize, too, that Wendell is married and that the chances of us ever getting together for real are slim. But a girl can hope. Meanwhile, I fantasize.

I had this really hot fantasy the other day. I dreamed that I was called to take the minutes for a big executive conference in the boardroom. About twenty men in dark blue business suits are sitting in plush swivel chairs and discussing money matters in this huge room with wood paneling and what seems to be a mile-long oak table. At the head of the table sits Wendell, who listens attentively to all of the other executives before cutting them off.

“I’m tired of hearing all of this bickering,” he finally says with authority. “Gina, come sit on my lap.”

Without batting an eyelash, I walk up to the front of the room and slither into Wendell’s cozy little lap as the other men look on, their faces donning hopeful looks of lust. But my heart’s with Wendell.

The two of us begin making out, and I can feel his practiced hands venturing up my short skirt and quickly finding the wet crotch of my panties. Filled with passion, I hoist my blouse over my head, shimmy out of my panties and skirt and lie back on the table. As Wendell draws closer to me, I spread my legs apart and lift them high in the air to give him complete access to my sex.

I can hear the other men breathing heavily as Wendell slides his tongue into my wet crease. Shudders of ecstasy race through my body as he teases my rigid clit with the tip of his tongue.

“Let me suck you,” I say, and as Wendell opens his trousers and pulls out his cock, I spin around on the table and hang my head over the edge to accept his organ. My pussy is exposed to the rest of the executives and I can sense their passion.

They want me. But I am reserved especially for the CEO.

Wendell’s cock is surprisingly large and thick. The head is a beautiful mushroom shape, and I twirl my tongue around it while I play with his ample balls and finger myself with my free hand. After several minutes I spin my naked body about once more and invite Wendell to mount me.

He fumbles his way up onto the table with the help of some of the others. I wrap my legs around him as his erection slides gracefully into my sopping pussy. He thrusts and bucks and fills me to my very core, giving me a mind-altering orgasm. My entire body comes alive, my nipples tingle, my thighs quiver, my belly contracts with passionate reverberations, and I am soon lost in a cloud of ecstasy.

I let Wendell take me from the rear. As I bend over the conference table, he thrusts his cock into my eager cunt. With each thrust I became more and more consumed by our sexual union. My tits sway in total view of the others, who watch as beads of sweat drip from my brow and expressions of bliss decorate my face.

“Fuck me,” I whimper. “Fuck me harder, faster.”

Through tears of joy I can see that several other executives — men who have wanted me for years — have taken out their cocks and have begun to masturbate to this titillating exhibition.

Suddenly I sense Wendell’s impending explosion. His body grows rigid and he grabs my fleshy hips with a sturdy grip.

“Come on my ass!” I cry out. “Shoot it on my ass!”

With that, Wendell withdraws from my pussy and spews a hefty load of semen all over my back and on my nicely rounded bottom. Reaching behind me, I scoop a dollop of come from my backside and feed myself the sweet seed. I savor the salty taste and wish only that I could enjoy this exquisite pleasure every day of my life.

After I clean up and get dressed, the meeting continues — business as usual — but I can tell that all of the executives are looking me over, hoping that I will choose them as my next partner.

I realize that he and I will probably never sleep together, but I have no doubt that Wendell could satisfy my sexual needs just as well, if not better, than most men half his age.

The young men I’ve known have been too fast, too rough and not sensitive enough to my needs. Wendell’s not like that. Perhaps one day the door he opens for me will be the door to his bedroom. And then, finally, I’ll be able to realize my ultimate fantasy.