Bob Katt

Hot 'N Juicy Lucy

Chapter 1

I'd have no troubles if it wasn't for my big, fat prick. For twenty-three years it's caused me more grief than a wife. The troubles were small when I was a schoolboy: the cane on the seat of my pants for fingering up a little girl while she stroked my prick. But now I'm a big boy I'm in real hot trouble. My big, fat prick doesn't give me a moment's peace. Paradoxically, I wouldn't be without it for anything in the world!

But it's balled up my whole life. My prick has got personality and ideas of its own. It often refuses to obey me. Our plans are sometimes so divergent that we're in violent conflict. And I always lose out. My prick's so strong and vigorous, I get carried along by it like driftwood in a mill race. My present troubles were aggravated to explosion point by my prick's interest in Janet. Personally, I want no part of Janet. She's not a bad girl, but she's got grave defects. Although she's only twenty-two, with youth on her side, she's as ugly as a girl can get. She's brunette, with a good figure, but is as hairy as a bear. In a couple of years she'll be shaving every day. And as is so often the case with ugly girls, she's man-crazy. That makes her dangerous. If a man gives her a kindly smile she makes plans to walk him up the aisle. Shell make some man a good wife. But not me! If I met Janet socially I wouldn't dare speak a civil word to her. Anything less than an insult from a man she interprets as a come-on.

But I knew Janet in the worst way possible. She was the boss's daughter!

The Boss has been trying to marry her off since she was a teen-ager. He hasn't succeeded. A couple of weeks ago the Boss resigned himself to an unmarried daughter and decided she'd have to earn her living. The Boss made an appalling decision. He employed her in our office as his Personal Assistant!

The decision was calamitous. Our small business is highly specialized. I'm the Boss's right-hand man. We publish pop songs and make records. We manage to pay the rent, wages and entertainment expenses. I'm the hinge-pin of the set-up. I've been twanging a guitar since I was five, and have a flair for guessing public taste. Every day I look through piles of pop music and choose songs I believe will please.

I haven't been wrong yet. I've always selected pop tunes that have sold enough records to cover expenses. But I could be wrong one day. Then we'll have a warehouse stuffed with records we can't sell. But on the other hand; I might get lucky. I might choose a tune that gets into the top ten.

I'm happy at my work. It's the only job I know. But the moment Janet was ushered into the office by her father, my days in the business were numbered.

The Boss introduced us and I was too polite to look pained at Janet's ugliness. But I did notice the strong smell of cunt that began to pervade the office. When we shook hands Janet's hot fingers held mine so firmly I had to tug hard to break her grip. While the Boss told me that Janet would be learning the business;, I tried not to be repulsed by the sweaty black down on her upper lip, the hypnotic stare of her eyes through pebbled glasses, and the big mole on her left cheek that had a long hair sprouting from it.

The Boss set Janet to work in his own office entering items in the account books. Then he went out on business. He handles Production and Sales. I stay in the office searching for a winner among the submitted song-sheets.

He'd been gone ten minutes when Janet came through to my office to consult the files. It took only two minutes then for it to dawn on me how dangerous she was.