Hey, I’m Savita Patil. I’ve been working as a vice president and then as the CFO of an MNC for over 13 years. The work is exciting, and the pay is great. The adrenaline of closing multimillion-dollar deals and being in a work-centric environment made the time fly by.
I remained single throughout my life. I’m 48 now, and as I look back, I can see the cost of leading this lifestyle. But I also remember the raunchy sex adventures of a single woman in her youth working in finance.
From giving 365 blowjobs a year to my superior to fucking the lesbian CEO of my company with a strap-on. Enjoy as you read about the escapades of a thirsty Indian woman.
Let’s start with the first interview of my life.
“Suck it like you mean it, bitch,” my boyfriend Arvind whispered. He roughly held my ponytail and made me suck his cock. His cock was 6 inches long but not very thick. He had erectile dysfunction problems, so he took a long time to cum, and I had to keep sucking for hours.
His dick was deep-throating me as he kept moaning. “That’s it, Randi. I’m going to cum in your mouth now,” he moaned. He kept face-fucking me, “Swallow it like a good slut, baby.”
He kept moving my head back and forth as he thrust his dick into my mouth.
Finally, Arvind holds my head roughly as he cums his load inside my throat.
I straighten up and clean myself up.
Arvind kissed me on the cheeks as I left for my interview. Arvind came to drop me off, but his only condition was a blowjob. Typical Indian guy!
I straightened my skirt and adjusted my shirt as I walked into the office. As soon as I walked into the office of Chaddha Trading Ltd, I could smell the male energy in the room. There was a front desk manned by a boy who looked like he was in his late teens.
Behind him was a glass wall. Through that, I could see mostly men in every cubicle. They all had protruding bellies, and they were laughing and eating snacks. It looked more like a gentleman’s club than an office environment.
The boy was hungrily looking at something on his phone when I entered. He stood up straight when he saw me. I noticed the bulge on his pants and understood he was watching porn or something. I walked up to him and told him I had an appointment for an interview.
He hastily called someone on the intercom but was more interested in checking my boobs. I had intentionally worn a push-up bra and kept two buttons open. I prided myself on using my sexuality as a weapon.
“Mr Lalit will see you now,” the boy said nervously. He got out from behind the desk and asked me to follow him. My taut ass swung back and forth in my pencil skirt as I walked through the hallway.
I could feel the fiery heat of a hundred eyeballs as the people in the cubicles checked me out. The boy took through to another hallway on the left. It was surrounded on both sides by meeting rooms and offices of executives until we arrived in front of an oak door.
A golden sign read, ‘Mr. Lalit Modi, Chief Investment Officer.’
I was ushered into a cushy private office with a beige and gold interior. Sitting behind a minimal table was a middle-aged man roughly in his 50s. He looked like he kept fit during his prime years and had smile wrinkles.
He waved me to sit down, and the first question he asked me was.
“Do you know what I do?”
“You’re the Chief Investment Officer,” I replied meekly.
“Anyone who glances at my door knows that,” he replied coldly, “what do I do?”
“You control the firm’s investment portfolio and decide what to invest in,” I answered.
“You could do better,” he said with a sigh, “I think we’re done here. You’ll know our decision soon enough.”
I could feel my chances slipping away, so I said abruptly. “You are the one responsible for making sure that this company gets rich,”
He replied without looking at me, “And how do I do that?”
“By learning to spot opportunities, you put your money on where it counts. Not only to get profit but also to capitalize on what it takes to dominate the business environment in the future.”
He looked mildly interested as he looked up. “I think I may have a job for you,” he said with a slight smile, “only on one condition.”
He stood up, unzipped his pants, and pointed downwards with his index fingers. Indian bastard!
Just then, his assistant buzzed on the intercom and informed him that his wife had come.
“Maybe we can catch up on this later,” I said seductively.
“No, get under my table now,” he said. He reached across the desk, grabbed my arm, and made me go over to his side. He roughly bent me over the table and spanked my ass loudly over my skirt.
“You want to work with me. You got to show you’re a fighter.”
He pushed me down and made me squat under his table just as there was a knock on the door. His wife came in, I couldn’t see her, but I heard her voice. He kissed her and sat her down as he took his seat.
I took his cock out of his pants and started sucking on it while he spoke to his wife. I licked my way down his long shaft, took it in my mouth, and started pleasuring him. He kept his hand lightly on my head as I deep throat his curvy cock. Soon he was on cloud 9, making grunting noises and twitching.
His wife excused herself as she went to the bathroom. When she closed the door, he roughly grabbed my head. He thrust his cock into my deep throat with such force that tears gathered around my eyes. He was a madman who was mouth fucking me like there was no tomorrow.
Then he slid his pants down further and told me to suck his balls. I took them in my mouth like two marbles and sucked on them like lollipops. He was quietly moaning as he stroked his dick. I tried to suck his dick again, but he forced my head back to his balls and kept stroking.
As he came near, Lalit told me to stop as he kept stroking. Just as he shot a huge load of sticky white cum on my face, his wife opened the door to the bathroom.
That’s the story of how I got my first job.
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