The Case of the Superlative Secretary
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
THE CASE OF THE SUPERLATIVE SECRETARY
by the bashful pervert
Perry Mason paced the length of the hotel room, hands clasped
behind his back, brow furrowed in thought. The rest of the world might
as well not have existed for him, for his attention was entirely turned
"Don't burn yourself out, Chief," said Della Street, lying on top
of the covers of the big double bed. "You need to relax, recharge
"What? Hang it, Della, I need to figure out what Ambrose is up
to! I need that more than I need relaxation. Ambrose and Jerome think
they have us in a trap. Well, I have to figure out how to spring the
trap, grab the bait, and be off whistling while they're still scratching
their heads." Perry said. "Otherwise, our client is in a hell of a jam."
Della sighed and lay back, putting a pillow under her head. "I
know how you love your work, Chief. And don't get me wrong, I feel bad
for our client, too. She's a good scout, and if anyone can get her off
the spot, it's you."
Mason stopped in the middle of his pacing, and looked at Della.
"Thanks, Della. I need that vote of confidence. Hamilton Burger always
thinks I have something up my sleeve, and even Lieutenant Tragg isn't too
sure that I'm not cutting corners on this one."
"But Perry," Della said, taking his hand, "right now you can't do
anything. We can't leave the room without tipping off Ambrose, not until
the morning. You can't even call Paul Drake. I wish you would let me do
more to help. I can't keep up with the plans you're thinking of, but I
can relax you so that you can think more efficiently."
Mason grinned. "Hang it, Della! You know me too well. I
suppose I do need some relaxation. And you knew the exact way to
convince me: it's to the ultimate good of the client." He climbed onto
the bed. "Well, now, Della, what do you have in mind for this relaxation?"
Della smiled coyly and put a finger tipped with a pink nail to
her mouth. "Why don't you start by taking off that suit jacket? And
that vest. And that shirt?" Perry did as she suggested, smiling all the
"Mmmmm," said Della, running her hands through the thick curls
that covered the lawyer's chest. She placed her thumb on his nipple and
made a circular motion. "Lie down, Chief. No, face down. That's it."
Hiking up her skirt above her hose, she straddled Mason's legs, and
placed her delicate hands on his back.
She began kneading and massaging Perry's back, squeezing and
releasing folds of muscle. "Does that feel good, Chief?"
"Hm-mm!" Mason replied, sounding almost drowsy with pleasure.
"You're a life-saver, Della."
Della unbuttoned her blouse, and shrugged it off. Underneath the
blouse, she wore a black lace bra. Taking both hands away from her
employer's back, she took a moment to unsnap the back closure of the bra,
and slip it off. She let her pert, soft breasts brush against the areas
she was massaging as she continued her back-rub.
"Hmm!" Mason said. "What are you doing, Della? I can't quite
figure it out."
"You may find out," Della said. She leaned down over Perry's
back, letting her nipples rub against his skin, and gave him a demure
little kiss on the back of his neck. Enraptured by the fact that she at
last had him between her legs, even if it went no further than a backrub,
she reached down, lifted her skirt and stroked her swelling clitoris.
"Della," Mason said abruptly, "something is up."
"What do you mean, Chief?" Della asked, surprised at her apparent
reading of her mind. Then she wondered if perhaps he was referring to
his own condition.
"I mean," Mason said, "something more than just a backrub is
afoot. I can smell it in the air."
"Gosh, I'm sorry, Chief, I --"
Mason abruptly rolled over, using his arms to lift himself up and
turn in place, still straddled by the fork of Della's thighs. "Don't be
sorry, Della! There's no need to be sorry." His grey eyes roved over
her form, taking in her shapely bared breasts, and the demure knee-length
skirt that she had hiked up to just an inch below her pubic triangle. As
she looked into his grey eyes, she swore that she saw them soften and
smolder, and he spoke in a voice husky with emotion. "You know, Della,
you're the best damn secretary any man ever had. But you know that
you're more than a secretary to me, don't you?"
"Oh, Perry," Della breathed.
"Della," he whispered, romantically. "I wish we'd done this so
much sooner." And so saying, he slid down the bed, cupping Della's
bottom-cheeks in his hands and pulling her pelvis down to his face.
Della, breathing heavily, hastily unbuttoned her skirt and tossed
it aside, to watch Perry's face between her legs, his mouth pressing to
the mound that she kept bare of pubic hair. She felt his tongue probing
upwards, licking at her juices. "Oh, Perry," she moaned, squeezing her
left breast. "Oh, Perry, that's so good." Perry made a sound that could
have been agreement, but it was too muffled for her to tell.
The lawyer continued his cunnilingus for some time, to his
secretary's delight. His lips plucked at her soft petals, causing her to
sigh and gasp in ecstatic delight. The forefinger of one hand dipped
into, and out of, and then into her private depths, and then came out
again to slowly circle her erect clitoris. Della arched her back and
moaned. She took both breasts in her hands and squeezed, throwing her
head back and moaning. In her aroused state, her mind's eye showed her
licentious fantasies, naughty whorish fantasies of servicing and being
serviced not only by Perry, but by his detective Paul Drake, Hamilton
Burger the district attorney, Alexander Redfield the ballistics expert,
Jackson the law clerk of Perry's office... She was trying to banish the
mental image of fellating Lieutenant Tragg's handsome nightstick when
Perry slowed his ministrations.
"Oh, Perry," she crooned. "Oh, that was so good."
Perry grinned up at her. "You taste very good, Della."
Della grinned wickedly back at him. "Shall we see how you do in
a taste-test?" She turned around, ready to unzip him, to find that while
he'd been licking and fingering her, he'd also undone his pants and
pushed them and his boxers down, and had been pumping his shaft. "Gosh,
Perry," she said, eyes widening, "that's a big one!"
She put her lips to the tip of the lawyer's shaft and began
moving her head up and down on it lovingly. Meanwhile, Perry was
spreading the rounded cheeks of her bottom, admiring her feminine
treasures, and lifted his face up to lick and kiss her there again.
Della cupped his heavy testicular sac in her hands, and massaged his
testicles gently up his shaft. Meanwhile, her eager tongue was running
in circles around the swollen head of Perry's penis, until she heard him
groan with pleasure, and felt his body spasm and stiffen under her. She
dipped her head far down, taking his penis just as far into her mouth as
it would go, and applying heavy suction as she pulled back up again.
"Della," Perry groaned, "Della. Let me have you. All of you. I
need you, Della."
Della gave one last tongue-flicking to his purpled glans, and
then she rolled off of him, and lay beside him on the bed, spreading her
thighs to show him her engorged labia, to show him the juices that were
glistening on the edges of her cleft to lubricate his entrance. He
quickly pulled off his pants and boxers fully, and knelt between her
thighs. She looked at him in that moment to capture in her memory the
full beauty of him -- stockily built body, strong arms, strong,
well-muscled thighs, and the long, hard erection poised between her
petals. And with a gasp she took his hardness fully into her soft inner
"Oh, yes, Perry! Yes! Gosh!" she cried in the heat of passion.
His pelvis was pumping furiously, slewing his penis in and out of her.
"Gosh! Perry! Do me!"
"Talk dirty to me, Della," he breathed, bringing his hard
erection deep into her and out again. "Talk dirty!"
Della flushed, and closed her eyes. "Oh... Perry -- uhm...
oh!" She started to turn her head from side to side, feeling the orgasm
building within her. "Oh, God, I'm going to... to... come! Oh!
Unh... yes, baby... yes, that's it... I want you to h-h-HUMP me with
your big..." She gasped as the waves of pleasure surged within her. She
brought her legs up, wrapping them around Perry's waist. "Tool! Oh,
yes... h-hump me with your enormous TOOL... Oh, yes! Yes! Tits! Suck
my tits! Hold my ass, Perry, fondle my ass while you... p-p-prong me!"
She arched her back, bringing her erect nipples up for Perry to suck on.
He captured one between his lips and sucked hard while he pressed his
penis deep into Della's tight tunnel and came, ejaculating a warm flood
The sudden explosion of warmth and the almost painful pleasure of
Perry's sucking brought Della to orgasm at the same time. She mewled and
tossed her head from side to side, her legs jerked and impaled her deeper
onto Perry's shaft, her toes straightened by themselves and every inch of
her body seemed to be alive with pleasure. Perry was locked in his own
orgasm, his hard erection throbbing within her depths, still spurting
jets of warm liquid deep in his lover.
Finally, they lay there intertwined, still joined, holding each
other through the afterglow. Della whispered in the warmth of Perry's
arms, enjoying the way his chest hairs tickled her lips. "Gosh, Perry.
I didn't even know I knew some of those words."
Perry chuckled. "Della, you were incredible."
She hugged her head a little closer to his chest. "You mean
"Honest," Perry said. They lapsed into silence again.
As he lay there with Della's naked form beside him, it suddenly
occurred to him how he could get out from the hotel room without Ambrose
or Jerome being tipped off. But, being a man of sensitivity, he waited a
decent half-hour before mentioning it.
The appearance of this story in electronic form and electronic
distribution is in no way intended to abridge the author's copyright.
The usage of characters in this narrative not of the author's
creation is in no way intended to abridge whatever copyrights there may
be upon those characters.
-the bashful pervert