From: an101532@anon.penet.fi (Phil Phantom)
Reply-To: an101532@anon.penet.fi
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: NEW STORY: "Company Man" 1/3 (MFMMM)
Date: Sat, 11 Nov 1995 14:02:53 UTC
Organization: Anonymous forwarding service
Message-ID: <140343Z11111995@anon.penet.fi>

 

WARNING!

The following story is an uncensored sexual fantasy

involving practices that are illegal, immoral, socially

unacceptable, and messy.  Only mature adults with a

firm grasp on reality should venture further.  This

story promotes nothing, and nothing in this story

should be taken seriously.  Readers are cautioned not

to attempt any of these acts without professional

guidance and a net.  If you are underage, stand, 

move away from the console, and unplug the computer.  

Reading stories like this can make you go blind. 

If you are a servant of the Lord, looking for sinners

to convert, study this story and memorize it.  This

will help you recognize sinners when you see them. 

Good luck, and avoid mirrors!

 

Phil Phantom     

 

                           "Company Man"  (Part one of three)

                          By Phil Phantom



I stood in thick pile carpet before the largest oak desk I'd ever

seen.  Behind the desk sat a man bigger than life: Stewart

Jennings Killinger--Mr. Killinger, CEO of the biggest mining

equipment company in the world, Killinger Equipment.



I was relatively new to the company, still in my twenties, but on

a fast track to top-level management.  I rose through the ranks

in record time and was poised for the key promotion that would

set me and my young family for life.  Mr. Killinger ignored me

for several minutes while carrying on a phone conversation with

his chair swiveled to present the leather back fringed with brass

studs.  When he suddenly spun around and slammed down the phone, 

I jumped.



Mr. Killinger eyed me like a plantation overseer might look at a

new slave.  I felt like a slave, anyway.  Once you move into a

salaried position with the company, they work you seven days a

week, sometimes eighty, ninety hours.  Mr. Killinger pays his

slaves well.  Behind his back, we respectfully call him massah

Stewart.  I was nervous being scrutinized by the massah.  He

said, "Relax...Groves, isn't it?"



"Bill Groves, sir, yes sir,"  I said.



"I've heard good things about you, Groves, damn good things. 

I've been keeping my eye on you, son.  We have a division that

might get your name on it."  My eyes opened wide.  "Hold on, now. 

Don't go getting a hardon.  I said might.  Nobody gets one of my

divisions until I know he is a 100% company man."



Mr. Killinger rose and walked around the desk, saying, "Some men

give lip service to the term, company man, Groves.  I'm not one

of them.  When I say company man, I mean COMPANY man.  The

company comes first."  The burly, distinguished older man began

pacing back and forth on my side of the desk.  "When I say first,

there is no second.  The company is the be all and end all of his

existence.  His role in the company defines who he is and what

kind of man he is."  He stopped and cast me a sidelong stare. 

"Are you a company man, Bill Groves?"



"Oh, yes sir.  I eat, sleep, drink...I live Killinger Equipment. 

Killinger is my life, sir."



"We'll see, Groves.  We'll see.  If you're telling me the truth,

you'll get a division.  Maybe not right away, maybe not this

year, but you will one day.  If I determine that you lied, I'll

fire you on the spot.  Now, I'm going to ask you again.  Are you

a company man?"



I broke out in a sweat.  My tie suddenly felt like a hangman's

noose.  When my secretary told me that Mr. Killinger wanted to

see me, the idea that I might get fired on the spot never entered

my mind.  I said, "Sir, I AM a company man."



"You're married."



"Yes sir.  Eight years now.  To a wonderful woman."



"Cynthia, right?"



"Why, yes sir."



"And she bore you three kids--twin boys and a baby girl."



"Yes, that's right.  The girl isn't exactly a baby.  She's four. 

The boys are seven."



"Are they yours?  All of them?"



"Of course."



"Cynthia is a very attractive and sexy woman."



"I think so.  I'm sure most men would think so."  



"I hear she looks like that brunette on the TV show, Charlie's

Angels.  What's 'er name?"



"Jackie Smith.  Yes, she hears that quite a bit.  I think she's a

dead ringer myself.  If she were three inches taller and her

waistline were three inches bigger, she could be her double."



"She must have a figure like an hour glass."



"She does, and she likes wearing dresses that accentuate that

hour glass look.  You know, skin tight around the middle."



"She sounds like one hot number, but you don't think Cynthia

finds any man but you attractive or sexy enough to take between

her legs.  Is that what you're telling me?"



This took the wind out of my sails.  I said, "I...uh, sir, it's

not that.  Cynthia is a faithful and true blue woman.  Maybe you

should meet her."



"Carl met her, and we disagree with you."



"Sir, I don't understand.  When did Mr. Roberts meet Cynthia, and

why would you think she isn't faithful?"



"Groves, I'll ask the questions.  You answer them unless you want

to walk out of here right now and forget we had this whole

conversation."



I was in no way inclined to leave at that point.  I said, "No,

I'll answer."



"I'm going to get personal, very personal.  Are you sure you want

to stay?"



"I have nothing to hide, and neither does Cynthia."



"When was the last time you fucked her?"



"What?"



"Was there a word you didn't understand?"



"No..I, uh..."



"Then answer the question."



"I think a week ago."



"How many times in the last month?"



"Four, maybe three.  I'm not sure."



"What's a monthly average in the past year?"



"I don't know, maybe three."



"Maybe one?"



"Some months, maybe.  The average has to be at least two.  Mr.

Killinger, why..."



"I ask the questions.  Now, you're married to this gorgeous woman

with a body that should be painted on a B-29 bomber, and you

think she's satisfied with two pokes a month.  You don't think

she needs more than that, or that her needs aren't being met by

someone else.  That's what you're telling me, right?"



"Well, yes."



"Again, I think you're wrong.  I think what you're getting are

mercy fucks.  I think she tosses you scraps from the table, and

someone else is sitting in your seat, eating his fill.  You'd

fuck her every night of the week if she'd let you, wouldn't you?"



"I suppose I would, but Cynthia's never been that interested in

sex.  She's just not that way, Mr. Killinger.  Look, if you know

something I don't..."



"I know a lot of things you don't, young man.  Tell me something. 

How's her pussy?  Is she still tight?"



"She's had three kids."



"Is she as tight as she was last year?"



"I...probably not, but..."



"Show me your dick, Groves."



I turned bright red and stammered, "Sir, I..."



"Pull your cock out, Groves.  I'm not going to suck it.  I just

want to look at it."



I unzipped my fly and fished out a pathetic member trying to hide

in my pubic hair.  Stewart looked at diminutive organ and shook

his head.  "Put that thing away, Groves."  I hurriedly did so. 

"Now, are you going to try and tell me that your cock stretched

her pussy."



"I don't know."



"A moment ago you were absolutely sure that your cock was the

only cock Cynthia is spreading her legs for.  Now, you're not

sure.  I've seen a picture of your wife, Groves, and I know that

woman is fucking her ass off, and if she isn't, she should be. 

If she's getting cock like yours, twice a month, and that's all

she's getting, I'll eat this fucking telephone.  If I have to eat

this telephone, I'm going to be very upset with you because

that's just a waste of good pussy.  If you can't provide your

wife with a good cock, you should see she gets one."



"I don't know what to say, Mr. Killinger."



"I've been asking around, Groves, nobody at Killinger is getting

any pussy off of Cynthia.  Wipe that smug grin off your face,

Groves. That just means some outsider is fucking one of our

women.  I can overlook the lower ranks letting their wives stray

from Killinger cock stock, but for a man moving up like you

appear to be doing, that won't do.  No sir, that won't do at

all."



My head was spinning.  Killinger cock stock?  Our women?  I'd

heard rumors about Mr. Killinger.  I heard he could be bizarre,

pushy, demanding, and ruthless, but this was too much.  He

thought of my Cynthia as one of "our women."  Still, the man held

my future in his hands.  I was speechless, but grew numb when Mr.

Killinger took out his cock and told me to feel it.  I stared at

the most impressive cock I'd ever seen resting like a slab of

meat in Mr. Killinger's hand.  Through a fog, I heard him repeat,

"Take it.  Feel this cock Groves.  This is a real cock, a

Killinger cock."



I reached out and picked up the penis like a lump of toxic waste,

pinching the middle between my thumb and forefinger.  Mr.

Killinger took my hand and placed my fingers around the shaft. 

With his hand on mine, he began stroking.  I could feel the blood

rushing in to fill the organ, and could feel it swell and grow. 

Within seconds, I held Mr. Killinger by his erect cock, a cock at

least a foot long and as thick as my daughter's forearm.  I could

feel Mr. Killinger's heart beating through his cock, and though I

felt ridiculous holding a man's penis, slowly stroking my

employer's huge cock from the root to the tip, even after Mr.

Killinger let go, I was not inclined to let loose unless told to

do so.  Despite feeling ridiculous, I wanted to continue holding,

stroking, and fondling Mr. Killinger's cock.  My own cock stirred

with the excitement I felt rushing through me.



Without conscious awareness, I was jacking Mr. Killinger off,

right there in his office.  We stood facing each other with Mr.

Killinger's throbbing organ bridging the one-foot separation. 

The head of his dick rubbed against my belt buckle and made the

belt, the buckle, and part of my pants shine with his precum.  He

said, "This is the kind of cock your wife's pussy craves, Groves. 

She probably found herself two or three cocks that will do, but

she won't find cocks like these on the street."



I could not argue.  Still, as beautiful and sexy as Cynthia is,

and as much as she likes dressing in sexy and revealing clothes,

she just does not have the sexual drive or desire that usually

goes with a body like hers.  She could take sex or leave it.  Mr.

Killinger was right, though, she gives me mercy fucks, but once a

month was more the average.  Between fucks she'd pacify me with a

hand job, and even for those she wears a latex rubber glove so

the "messy stuff" won't get on her skin.  I fuck my wife wearing

a rubber.  I couldn't help but wonder how Cynthia would respond

to a cock like the one I was jacking off without a glove.



Mr. Killinger pushed down on my shoulders, saying, "Go get a

better look at it, Groves.  Get a good look at a real cock."  My

knees offered no resistance.  I sank lower and lower watching

that monster cock rise higher toward my face.  When my knees hit

the carpet, the head of Mr. Killinger's dick was at my lips.  He

said, "I'll bet you can't even get your mouth over the head,

Groves.  See if you can?"



My mouth opened of it's own accord as Mr. Killinger took control

of his own cock.  He pressed forward and the soft rubbery head

forced its way inside my mouth, filling my mouth.  Mr. Killinger

began pumping his cock the way he preferred, saying, "You've got

a big mouth, Groves.  Imagine how my cock would feel to Cynthia's

pussy.  She can take it all, clear to the balls.  I guarantee it. 

If she does, she'll never stray from Killinger cock again.  There

isn't a man in my executive suites that doesn't have a wife

devoted solely to Killinger cock.  Cynthia would drool over Raul,

cream over Eugene, and she'll cum in her knickers when she sees

Rambo Sambo.  I hired them because they had big cocks--bigger

than mine if you can believe that.  I've got one drawing six

figures that isn't worth tits on a Marine, but Raul can turn any

lady into a whore after one fuck."



I found myself sucking on his cock and trying to get more in my

mouth.  I never made that conscious decision; I just did.  Mr.

Killinger paused in his lecture to say, "I just want you to know,

I won't let just any man suck my dick.  I don't let outsiders,

and I don't go for queers, but if I know the man is straight, and

he's willing to let me cum in his mouth, and he'll swallow my

load like a true cock-sucker, I won't think less of him.  We'll

just keep this between us, Groves."



I said, "Uhmm, ughn, omh, yemmm summm."  You get the picture.



He said, "If you're going to do this, do it right.  Get my balls

out and massage them in one hand, and pump my cock with the other

like I'm doing.  That's it, Groves.  That's how you suck a big

dick, but get more suction going.  You need to keep a partial

vacuum in there.  If you don't, when I blow my nuts, the shit's

going to go everywhere.  I don't want to soil my slacks, so be

prepared to get all of my wad, Groves."



Mr. Killinger's balls were huge.  They filled my hand, and I must

say, pumping that cock while sucking sure felt good.  Having

never had a dick in my mouth before, I wasn't sure I'd like it. 

Part of my passion was derived from the shear size and power his

cock represented.  A powerful cock on a powerful man is a heady

combination.  I couldn't help but wonder how Cynthia would

respond to Mr. Killinger's cock, or to one even larger, one that

can turn any lady into a whore after one fuck.  The idea wouldn't

go away, partly because Mr. Killinger wouldn't let the idea go

away.



He went on, "Where was I?  Oh, you see, Groves, I can't have

women who sleep with my key people sharing intimate knowledge of

our corporate plans and projects, sleeping with outsiders and

letting things out.  For that reason, no one advances to this

level unless he is willing to carry his naked wife into this

office and set her on my desk for a Killinger cock fucking.  They

all did it, and if you are a company man, you'll do it too.  They

strip their wives in the lobby before every swinging dick, every

secretary, and the fucking janitors, then haul their naked

bitches in here for a screwing.  When I'm done, they carry them

out with their cunts gaping wide and leaking cum - Killinger

cum."



"I'll tell you something else, Groves.  It don't stop there. 

Those wives either meet Raul, Eugene, or Rambo Sambo before or

after seeing me.  They all get screwed by them.  When they get an

itch in their twats, all they have to do is pick up the phone, or

put on a knock-me-down-and-fuck-me outfit and trot their horny

little twats down to the executive office building.  Their

husbands do a great deal of traveling and are away more than

home.  If I didn't keep this place well-stocked with cock, well,

you see the trouble we'd have.  Some of those wives spend more

time in the executive office building than their husbands do.  If

you get an office here, you'll be seeing a lot of Cynthia.  I

guarantee it.  Slow down, cowboy.  Don't be in such a hurry. 

You're sucking me like a starving queer.



"I see that notion turns you on.  You may not like what you see

if you've never seen her strut her stuff in public.  You might

see her in a mini skirt with no panties and cum running down her

legs to her high heels, parading that shit around, proud as a god

damn peacock.  They do that, Groves.  I don't know what it is,

but when a woman gets a real fucking, she feels like showing her

beaver.  There's some that will walk these halls buck assed naked

with a fresh-fucked pussy.  We allow that here.  I see that turns

you on, too."



The image did, but I knew Cynthia never would strut naked with a

fresh-fucked pussy.   Still, the fantasy was erotic and added to

my arousal.  I couldn't help sucking harder.



He went on, "There's one other thing you need to know, Groves. 

Killinger women do not use birth control.  If they get knocked up

by a Killinger man, they'll be even more dedicated to the

company.  Women are like that; they'll remain with an abusive

man, just because he fathered her kids.  With a Killinger stud,

they'll never stray once they deliver a Killinger baby.   Between

me, Raul, Eugene, and Rambo, we've fathered half of all kids born

to executive couples--thirty-two by last count.  The ratio would

be ninety/ten if every couple came here without kids to start

with.  If you get onboard, you will have a much bigger family. 

My top people have big families.  They're all company men.  Are

you a company man, Groves?"



"Yemmmmm, Simmmm."  



If they could do it, so could I, though I didn't have the

foggiest idea how I'd manage.  Cynthia can be as stubborn as a

mule when she's pulled or pushed.  She'd have to want to be

stripped and carried to a fucking before that would ever go down,

and selling her on the idea of a bigger family would be a very

big sale, but I wanted desperately to be a company man, and I

sucked the head of the company's head cock to prove it.



I suddenly got a mouthful of sperm.  That was a weird feeling

sucking hot sperm from a shooting cock, then swallowing.  I never

knew a man could deposit so much sperm in one ejaculation.  I cum

by the tablespoon; he came by the cup.  I thought his sperm would

never stop squirting in my mouth.  I sucked and swallowed, sucked

and drank.  After the squirts ended, I nursed his deflating

member while he milked the shaft.  Finally, he pulled out and

zipped up.  I stood, wiped my mouth, and waited as he retrieved

something from his desk.  



They were photographs that he slid across the desk toward me.  I

spread them out.  All were handsome naked men with athletic

bodies sporting huge erections, bigger than Mr. Killinger's.  In

addition, all were black men.  One looked half black and half

Latino or Indian, but they weren't white, and the children they

sired certainly wouldn't look white. 



Mr. Killinger said, "Those are my Killinger studs, Groves."  He

tapped the picture of the half-breed and said, "That's Raul. 

Don't ask me what border he jumped.  He doesn't even know, but

the ladies love him.  If you need help with Cynthia, get with

Raul.  If he isn't fucking her within two hours of meeting her,

I'll hand you a thousand dollars cash.  If he fucks her, and she

refuses to see him again, I'll give you two thousand.  If she

fucks all three and won't let you publicly strip her and carry

her up here for a screwing, I'll hand you a check for ten grand

and still give you the promotion."



"Mr. Killinger, you don't know Cynthia.  I don't care how good

this guy is, she just is not into sex, and she is not impressed

by penis size.  She is constantly telling me that the size means

nothing to her, and that she prefers one that is comfortable."



"And you bought that bullshit?  Groves, you have a tiny dick. 

Women who marry a man with a tiny dick all say that.  It ain't

the pen, it's the penmanship.  It ain't the sword, it's the

swordsmanship.  Bullshit!  I'm not going to waste time trying to

convince you.  You'll convince soon enough.  What I'm going to do

is put some incentive behind you.  You want this promotion,

right?"



"Yes sir."



"Here's the deal.  You have thirty days to set Cynthia on my

desk, naked, ready to fuck, and willing to bear more kids--not

your kids, Killinger kids, and most likely from one of my studs. 

They breed most of the kids, Rambo Sambo especially.  He has this

thing wired.  When those bitches are ovulating, Rambo Sambo knows

it, and does the job.  As you can see, he's blacker than ink, and

so are his offspring."



"Mr. Killinger, Cynthia's family comes from the deep south. 

Cynthia doesn't have a prejudiced bone in her body, but if she

gave birth to a black baby, she'd be ostracized.  Her family

means a great deal to her, and they all live around here.  That

fact alone will nix this deal."



"Groves, again, you don't know Cynthia as well as you think.  She

probably masturbates to the idea of getting raped by a big black,

getting pregnant by him, then delivering a black baby.  They cum

thinking about the scandal, those southern belles especially. 

Rambo is so successful because he gets inside information on

ovulation times.  Where do you suppose he's getting that inside

information, from the husbands?  Cynthia would love to hand you a

jet black baby, and she's willing to deal with her outraged

family in order to have that pleasure.  You don't know shit about

women, Groves.  Then again, you can't learn if you're born with a

tiny white dick."



"I can appreciate that there's a lot I don't know about women,

but I know Cynthia like my own sister, better.  We've dated

steadily since junior high, and we were virgins when we married. 

We have both remained faithful, so she knows what I know, and I

know what she knows.  I know exactly how she'll react to Raul's

advances, and to the idea of bearing another man's child of any

color.  I might win the thousand dollar bet, but will that mean

this is as far as I go up the ladder?"



"Groves, I said I was going to give you incentive.  If you fail

to move up by either method, either by getting her to screw all

three and refusing the rest, or by carrying her in here fully

ready to cooperate.  If you fail, I'm jerking the ladder out from

under you.  I'll let you go.  I'd hate to lose a good man, and a

good heterosexual cocksucker, but I think you need the incentive

in order to succeed.  I don't think you like the idea of your

wife screwing these men or bearing their black bastards.  A

company man would put those concerns behind him for the welfare

of the company.  I told you before we began that you'd either

leave a company man or unemployed.  You wanted to proceed.  Well,

there's your incentive.  Handle this any way you want, but you

have thirty days to set Cynthia's naked ass on my desk, or clear

yours.  We have nothing further to discuss.  My secretary can put

you in touch with Raul.  Good luck."



                            *  *  *



From: an101532@anon.penet.fi (Phil Phantom)
Reply-To: an101532@anon.penet.fi
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: "Company Man"  Part 2/3
Date: Sat, 11 Nov 1995 14:04:21 UTC
Organization: Anonymous forwarding service
Message-ID: <141311Z11111995@anon.penet.fi>



"Company Man"  Part two of three



I took Raul's phone number from the grinning secretary, and

passed a shamelessly dressed woman on the way out.  A pregnant

woman should not wear a see-through dress without under garments,

I don't care how good she looks.  Cynthia would have given her a

piece of her mind.



For the remainder of the day, I thought about my task.  My task

was nothing short of turning my wife into a whore for the

company, but I'd have to make it seem like it was her own idea. 

I had one thing going for me, Cynthia loved the company and my

future in it.  She loved the house, the neighborhood, the

schools, and the fact that her family lived nearby was a major

plus for her.  If I lost my job, we'd have to start over, sell

the house, and move.  I had marketable job skills in one limited

field and my only hope of securing work, meaningful work, would

require a move to Yuma, Arizona or moving overseas.  



I thought about dumping everything in Cynthia's lap and letting

her come up with an idea, letting her make the tough decisions. 

She wanted me to move up as badly, if not more, than I did.  I

could picture her saying, "Well, if we have no other options, if

there is no other way, we must do what we must do."  I could also

picture her ranting and raving, threatening law suits and police

action, going to the media, and wanting to confront Mr. Killinger

in his office.  I decided the direct approach was too risky. 

Near day's end, I called Raul.



Raul talked more sophisticated than he looked.  He was an

educated man, and by his claim, a great dancer.  All I had to do

was arrange a date to go dancing.  He'd pick us up and take us to

his club.  I'm sure he meant his club as in his favorite.  He

also told me to make certain she wore a dress, the shorter the

better, and no pantie hose.  That was it, just set the date for

Friday, and he'd handle the rest.  He did say it wouldn't hurt if

she were under the impression that he would be my future boss,

and that his report would influence company decisions regarding

my career advancement.  



I decided to play that up as much as I could, but he acted as

though it weren't necessary or all that important.  I'll say one

thing for him, he was very sure of himself and cocky.  Talking to

a man who was absolutely certain he could seduce my wife was

strange.  Working with him toward that goal was stranger still.  



By the time I arrived home, I was horny as hell.  Cynthia never

looked sexier, though she had no makeup on, and wore old jeans

and a sweat shirt while she put the finishing touches on dinner. 

I couldn't resist.  I came up behind her and pressed close,

nuzzled her neck with little kisses.  I then reached around to

cup her large breasts in my hands.  



Cynthia shook free, then turned to scold me with a sauce-dripping

ladle, "Bill, for crying out loud.  There are kids running around

that could march in here and see you doing that.  You know I hate

that behavior in private, much less out where the kids might

see."



"I'm sorry, sweetheart, but you look too damn sexy to resist."



She strode past me with a pot of beans and said, "I do not look

sexy.  What have you been doing?  Oh, honestly, Bill, you have an

erection.  Go take a cold shower or something.  Go, before the

kids see it."



This was par for the course.  Public erections were a big sin in

our house.  The boys get them all the time, but we ignore their

boners.  I took a shower.  



After dinner, after the kids left, I said, "Honey, I'm being

considered for advancement and a move to the executive office

building."



"Bill, no?  Really?  Oh, Bill!  This is fantastic.  I'm so proud

of you."



"Not so fast.  They're just thinking about it.  There's this one

guy, Raul Serantini, that seems to hold the key.  I managed to

get in to see him today, you know, to buddy-up."



"Brown nose, you mean.  You wooed him didn't you?  He loved you,

I know he did."



"Not exactly.  He seemed more interested in you than me."



"Me?  Why me?"



"He saw you somewhere."



"I don't recall meeting any Raul.  I'd remember a name like

Raul."



"He didn't meet you, he saw you?  Evidently, he liked what he

saw."



"He did, huh?  What did he say?"



"Oh, he just went on and on about how you look exactly like

Jackie Smith.  He wanted to know all about you.  He obviously has

a thing for Jackie Smith."



"Well, that can't hurt us.  So, what did he want to know about

me?"



"Personal stuff, Cynthia, very personal if you ask me."



Cynthia smiled and sat up, leaning forward on her elbows, saying,

"Yeah, like how personal?"



Frankly, I was surprised by this reaction.  She seemed to want

something juicy.  I was winging it anyway, so I said, "He wanted

to know your likes and dislikes, hobbies, interests, that sort of

thing, but what floored me was when he started prying into our

sex life."



"Oh, he did, did he?  What exactly did he want to know?"



"You know, how often you want it.  Your favorite position.  What

you like best--vaginal, anal, or oral."



"Good, god, Bill.  You didn't tell him the truth, did you?"



"Well, yes.  I had to say something."



"Oh, Bill.  Can't you see?  He wanted stuff for fantasy.  He

wants to fantasize me as he thinks Jackie Smith is.  You blew

it."



"What should I have said?"



"You should have fed his fantasy.  You know what men think about

her.  She does everything and always wants to do it.  All you did

was put distance between me and her when you should have

strengthened that connection."



"By lying about you?"



"He'd never know the truth.  It's none of his damn business

anyway."



"Well, to be honest with you, I did lie a little."



"Oh, what did you tell him?"



"Well, I told him you love oral sex."



"That's good, Bill.  What else?"



"I said you adore the feel of semen on your body."



"You men.  I don't think any woman adores something slimy and

sticky on their body.  That's good, though.  I'll bet he liked

that.  What else?"



"He asked if you like going out in short dresses without

pantyhose.  I picked up that he liked that idea, so I said you

never wear pantyhose, and sometimes, you don't wear panties.  I

told him you like the feeling of being totally naked under a

short dress."



"I do have that fantasy.  How did he react when you told him

that?"



"Honey, he went nuts.  He got the biggest erection I ever saw. 

Raul has a reputation as a lady's man, and he has a huge

endowment.  I never saw a crotch bulge like he had when he tried

to picture you naked under the dress he saw you in.  He actually

told me what he was thinking."



"What was he thinking?"



"He went into this fantasy about walking up behind you, lifting

your skirt, and doing it to you in a public place."



"Oh, Jeez!  That's my other fantasy - being taken in public."



"How come I never knew this, or that you fantasize going out

without panties?"



"I don't share my fantasies, and I do go out without panties

sometimes.  That isn't a fantasy.  Shocking, huh?"



"I think it's great."



"You do, huh?  I thought you'd be upset.  I just do it as a cheap

thrill.  I'm not out trying to lure a man to my bed or anything."



I smiled to put her at ease and said, "Come on, Cynthia, with the

skirt lengths you wear, someone had to see."



Cynthia blushed, smiled, then said, "Oh course people saw.  I

mean what would be the point if no one could possibly see. 

That's where the thrill comes in, knowing a man can see I'm not

wearing any panties."



"I don't believe a man can look at your vagina and not do

everything humanly possible to get you in bed."



Cynthia's demeanor suddenly became somber and reticent as she

said, "Sure, they try."  



When Cynthia is in the mood for sex, we play this game.  I accuse

her of sexual misconduct or pry into her activities.  If she

waves it off, or gets pissed off, I know she's not going to fuck

me.  If she looks guilty and somber, I know she's willing.  All I

have to do is keep her going and she'll confess to anything she

can dream up.  We usually end up in a fight that ends in me

forcing myself on her and taking sex, or her making up for

telling me a lie that upset me and giving me an I'm-sorry fuck. 

Either way I get fucked.  I pressed on.



"Cynthia, there's more to this, isn't there?  Don't worry.  I

won't be angry.  I know it was innocent fun."  I put a big smile

on my face to ease her fears and said, "Come on, out with it. 

You've been busted, girl."



"God, Bill, you're sure taking this well.  How come I never saw

this side of you?  Do you know how much I've dreaded this day?"



"You were a bad girl, weren't you?"



"Yes, Bill.  I've been a very bad girl, more times than I want to

admit.  It all started when we put Angie in pre school.  I have

the house to myself.  You're gone all day and never come home

unannounced.  The kids are gone and I don't need to worry about

them popping in.  I found myself alone with my vagina.  My vagina

made me do bad things, Bill, very bad things.  In our bed, even."



"I got up and went to her.  Cynthia wasn't sure what I was up to,

so she stiffened and brought her hands up in ready defense.  I

took her in my embrace and hugged her warmly.  She slowly relaxed

as I said, "Honey, I understand.  I'm not jealous or upset. 

Furthermore, I have no intention of trying to stop you from doing

it again, or making you feel guilty about doing it."



Cynthia had never encountered that type of response from me, and

was quite taken aback.  She said, "Bill, are we talking about the

same thing?  Do you understand what I mean by doing it?  Bill, I

let men make love to me in our bed, our marital bed."



"I know sweetheart.  It's all right."



"Bill, I'm not talking about one or two or even ten.  I'm talking

about twenty or thirty in the past six months, and many of those

guys have been back for repeats."



"I don't care, honey.  I mean that." 



"One guy meets me here every Thursday afternoon.  Today is

Thursday.  He refuses to use a condom.  Another man's semen is in

my vagina and you're still hugging me.  There's something wrong

with this picture; can you figure out what it is?"



I held her at arm's length to make eye contact, then smiled and

said, "The picture has given me an erection."



She glanced down, then smiled and said, "How do you feel about

sloppy seconds from your wife?"



"Do I have to use a condom?"



With a devilish gleam, she said, "Yes, you know I'm not on the

pill.  You might get me pregnant, and I don't want to risk that

happening."



I smiled equally devilishly and replied, "If the lady doesn't

want my baby, then I guess I'll wear a condom."



Cynthia took me by the hand and dragged me to the bedroom.  My

normally very reserved and quiet wife was suddenly very

aggressive and talkative.  She mounted me and let out a barrage

of vile phrases and words that I never heard cross her lips,

phrases such as:  "Fuck my adulterous pussy," and "Screw my

cheating cunt."  And my favorite, "Stir up my lover's sperm with

your little rubber-wrapped dick."



I saw Cynthia have a climax for the first time, then saw her

apologize with her eyes after recovering from it.  She pushed

herself up on straight arms with her hands resting on my chest,

my cock still hard inside her wet pussy because I hadn't cum. 

She got serious and said, "I think I'm crazy, Bill.  There's

something wrong with me."



I said, "Why, just because you cheated?"



"No, because I like to torment the only man I ever loved or ever

will love.  I do that to you on purpose, Bill, and I can't stop

and don't know why.  I want to get off  of your penis right now

after having had my climax and leave you suffering.  That's sick,

Bill, but I want to make you suffer."



"Then get off."



Cynthia looked into my eyes, trying to understand me, but eased

off slowly.  She sat back on her heels with my rubber encased

erection between us.  She looked over my rigid member with

mischievous eyes and said, "Don't you hate me, Bill?  Can't you

see I'm enjoying this?"



She was indeed.  Her fingers were stirring her supposedly spermy

twat while the fingers of her free hand rubbed her clit.  I'd

never seen Cynthia touch herself, much less masturbate.  I stared

at her working fingers, admiring her sexy pussy.  I never had a

good look at Cynthia's pussy.  She always hid herself from me,

especially the fleshy parts between her legs.  She was now

displaying them to me.  She was wet, but I saw no evidence of

sperm I'd stirred up.  She said, "Say something, Bill."



"I don't hate you, Cynthia.  I love you.  I always will, no

matter what you do."  



This excited her even more and she frantically frigged her cunt,

saying, "You don't know what you're saying.  I let everyone fuck

me without a rubber but you, Bill.  I don't care if I bear you

another bastard child.  That's right.  Angie isn't yours.  She is

the product of my first cheating act.  I fucked your father. 

Angie is your father's baby.  She's your sister, not your

daughter.  Oh God! I'm cumming!  Oh fuck, yes!  Yes!  Watch me

cum, Bill.  I cum for everybody but you, darling."



Cynthia climaxed in a dramatic show of passion.  She fell to the

side then rolled onto her back beside me.  She looked up to me

with sad eyes and said, "I'm sorry, Bill.  I had to tell you, but

not that way.  This has been eating me alive keeping it in. 

Before I knew it, I was saying it."



"So, it's true?"



"Yes.  I'm afraid so.  You hate me now, don't you?  I don't blame

you.  I hate myself.  It's not your father's fault.  I seduced

him when I knew I was ovulating."



"No, I don't hate you.  I told you, I will never hate you no

matter what you do.  I don't blame Dad.  The poor guy drools

around you.  He never stood a chance."



"He was easy.  So, what now?  I think I need professional help. 

I want to stop doing these things, and I want to stop tormenting

you.  I want us to have a normal sex life, but I can't stop these

crazy drives.  One day, I'll drive you away or into another

woman's arms.  When that happens, I'll curl up and die."



I hugged her close and stroked her cheek, saying, "You're not

going to have to curl up and die, because I'm never going

anywhere, and I don't look at other women.  I only want to be

tormented by you."



Cynthia sat up and turned to look at me.  She said, "Honestly. 

You've never cheated?"



"No, never.  I don't even flirt."



"And nothing I do could drive you away."



"No, Cynthia, nothing I can imagine."



From: an101532@anon.penet.fi (Phil Phantom)
Reply-To: an101532@anon.penet.fi
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: "Company Man"  Part 3/3
Date: Sat, 11 Nov 1995 14:05:44 UTC
Organization: Anonymous forwarding service
Message-ID: <141333Z11111995@anon.penet.fi>



"Company Man"  Part three of three



She had that devilish gleam in her eye again.  If I didn't know

better I'd swear she was starting another session.  One right

after the other was unheard of.  She said, "In that case, I don't

want to get cured.  I like my life just fine.  What do you think

of that?"



"I think you're being honest."



"I am.  It really bothered you that I let your father screw me,

didn't it?"



"Yes, very much."



"In that case, I'm going to start screwing him again.

Maybe, I'll give you another baby brother or sister."



"Cynthia, slow down.  Don't get carried away with this.  Let's

just keep things the way they are.  You have your secret flings,

torment me if that turns you on, but lets not test the bonds of

our marriage this way."



"You're right.  I do tend to get carried away, but my pussy

insists I go on."

  

"Pussy, huh.  Do we have a new vocabulary now?"



"I like using dirty words.  I only kept them from you so you'd

think I was still a good girl.  Now that you know I'm a bad girl,

I want to talk like a bad girl.  Didn't you like seeing my pussy

and hearing me talk filthy."



"I love it."



"I thought so.  It's a new torment.  It makes you horny, but you

know you won't get any.  You won't either, no matter how much you

beg.  I'm never going to let you fuck me again, never."



"Come on, Cynthia.  You can't mean that."



"I do mean that, Bill.  I want you to crave my pussy so badly

that it hurts.  It will hurt more if you know you'll never get

any while every Tom, Dick, and Harry is.  You'll stand a better

chance with Jackie Smith."



Cynthia turned so that her feet faced me, then spread her legs

wide.  Her gorgeous pussy fanned open before my eyes and her

fingers spread the lips further as she said, "Look at my twat,

Bill.  Stare at my pussy hole.  You've never seen my pretty, pink

pussy hole, but I show it to every man I fuck.  You've never had

your head close enough for a sniff, but every man I fucked got to

lick it and suck it till he was content.  Look at my asshole,

Bill.  I'm choosy about who fucks my pussy, but I'll let any man

fuck my ass, any man but you.  I suck cock and swallow sperm,

too."



I said, "I'm getting you some professional help."



"It won't work.  The first thing they tell you is the person

needing help must want help.  I don't want help.  I just realized

why you haven't cheated, and won't.  It's your little dick.  You

can't very well seduce a woman, then pull out that pathetic

little worm you call a dick.  She'll laugh in your face.  And now

I finally believe that you won't leave no matter what.  I believe

that, Bill.  I was never sure, but now I am.  So, what's to stop

me from fulfilling my ultimate fantasy of totally cutting you

off.  Nothing.  Bill, consider yourself officially and

irrevocably cut off.  But I want you to know I still love you. 

Love hurts, Bill.  Mine does, anyway."



"You are serious, aren't you?"



"I'm dead serious.  My horny pussy is more dead serious than I

am."



None of this came as any surprise to me.  Cynthia has been

cutting me off for as long as I've known her.  She has been

tormenting me sexually for as long as I've know her as well. 

She's been confessing to acts of infidelity since high school,

just to see how I'd react.  I knew she went out without panties,

and I figured she had a few encounters as a result.  The rest was

fantasy, even the part about my father.  He has been impotent for

the past ten years.  Cynthia got carried away with her fantasy,

because I played along for the first time.  



I could have stopped the act anywhere along the way by getting

upset or angry.  My hurt, submissive, puppy dog look drives her

fantasy, but real anger cools her heels.  She values our marriage

as much as I do, and any threat to it sends her into a panic.  We

fight as all couples do, but we never go to bed mad at each

other.  Cynthia can't sleep if I'm still angry.  Half of the sex

I get is to end my anger.  



This time was different only because I stayed submissive and she

kept going and going.  This told me more than I ever dreamed

about her desires and fantasies.  This session was the first I'd

heard of her getting off on bearing me a bastard child.  Oddly,

in light of my goal, that was very welcome news.  We established

many firsts:  The first look at her spread beaver; Her first

orgasm with me; An open confession that she derives pleasure from

sexually tormenting me; Her first open masturbation; And her new

vocabulary was a very pleasant surprise.



"Well?"  She said.



We had arrived at the part where I would normally get upset and

challenge her story, eventually getting at the truth.  I would

then force my way on her, taking the sex she cut off.  This

allowed her to resist, then surrender without passion, taking my

screwing like a wet dishrag.  She'd be happy for days afterwards. 

I wanted to see what she'd do if I remained submissive, so I

said, "I can see you're serious this time, Cynthia, and you

really did commit adultery."  



I looked at her wet twat as though seeing sperm.  This made her

look for herself, probably trying to see what I was seeing that

made me think she had sperm in her twat.  To distract her, I

added, "You obviously don't care if you get pregnant, or what

anybody thinks, so I guess I'll have to adjust to the idea of

raising another bastard, maybe another of my father's.  As for

being cut off, I've been cut off for most of our marriage.  I've

learned to live without sex from you.  I'll survive.  What else

can I say?"



She looked disappointed, and was not prepared for this.  I could

almost read her mind.  She didn't know whether to come clean and

clear her good name and reputation, or to allow me to go on

thinking that she was screwing every guy she met and trying to

get pregnant.  I played my part convincingly, and I know she

bought it.  She didn't understand my sudden change from being an

overly possessive and insecure husband, to a wimp who was forced

to accept his inability to satisfy his own wife, but she was

intrigued by the change.  After a long pause for the internal

debate, she decided to let the situation ride, saying, "Good, as

long as you know how things will be from now on.  Hey, we were

talking about that Raul guy.  Where did we leave off?  I want to

hear more."



"I told you he got a hardon thinking about screwing you in

public."



"I wonder if I flashed my pussy to him.  Did he say he saw my

pussy?"



"No, but he may have heard about it from someone."



"You said he had a big cock.  How big?"



"We didn't pull it out and measure, but by the lump I saw, I'd

say he had a cock longer than twelve inches, maybe fourteen

inches."



"No way.  Fourteen inches of cock?  Bill, that's about this long. 

Cocks don't get that big - do they?"



"On black men they do.  Raul is part black."



"Fourteen inches?  How thick would you say it was?"



"I'd say as thick as your wrist."



"Good God, that would be like a horse."



"They call him tripod.  Anyway, tripod wants to take us out

dancing tomorrow night.  I told him you love to dance."



"It sounds to me like he wants to do more than dance."



"I'm sure he does, but what's the problem?  You let any Tom,

Dick, and Harry.  Why not screw Raul?  At least Raul can advance

our standard of living."



"That's different, those guys were anonymous encounters, faceless

fucks."



"What about the guy who comes every Thursday?  He sounds like a

lover to me."



"Well, he's not.  I don't even know his name.  He just shows up

every Thursday and screws me.  Wham bam, and he's gone.  Raul

will always be there.  He'll be your boss.  Word will get around. 

Besides, he's black, or half black.  If anyone in my family got

wind of us fucking, there'd be hell to pay.  Besides, I'm not on

the pill.  Suppose he got me pregnant.  That's why, Bill."



"Regardless, he wants to meet you and he wants to dance with you.

Is there any harm in that?"



"No, but he'd better not try anything.  I do not like being pawed

and groped in a public place, except in fantasy.  Don't you dare

leave us alone, not for a minute.  And another thing, do not

invite him in our house afterwards.  He might get fresh with me

in front of the kids.  I don't think it would be wise to get on

social terms with him.  Let's just do the dancing thing, have a

few drinks with him, get to know each other, and hope for the

best."



"I wish you'd remember who this guy is.  You could at least suck

him off, or let him fuck your ass.  Any man can fuck your ass,

remember?"



"He's not a man, he's a two legged horse.  Let him fuck you in

the ass.  You're the one trying to get a promotion.  I'll let him

talk to my titties while you get under the table and suck his

cock for him.  You'd probably like sucking a giant dick.  You

couldn't keep your eyes off his crotch.  He probably saw you

licking your lips just thinking about it.  You're the only man I

ever met with penis envy."



That made me angry.  I lunged for her, pinned her to the

mattress, and fucked the shit out of her.  After I pulled out,

she cut me off forever, again."



Cynthia was nervous about meeting Raul.  I made his intentions

obvious, and she painted herself in a slutty corner by sticking

to her stories.  Everything was falling into place neater than a

puzzle for the mentally disabled.  I could see light at the end

of the tunnel.  If Raul was the cocksman he claimed to be, and if

Mr. Killinger was right about Cynthia's reaction to getting

screwed by a big cock, the only major hurdle was the bastard

pregnancy, and that hurdle did not loom as big as it did in Mr.

Killinger's office.



I thought I knew Cynthia inside and out, but she showed me many

more facets in just one afternoon.  I still had no doubt that

Cynthia had never experienced a dick other than mine, and for her

to go from my four-inch cock to one fourteen-inches had to be

frightening to her.  Hell, I was frightened for her.  I saw the

cock, and I knew Cynthia's pussy, at least the first four inches

of it.  Cynthia was not into pain, and for her to fuck a two-

legged horse, she'd have to be to enjoy it.  



The next few days passed quickly.  Cynthia grew more anxious as

the hour drew nearer.  She did not want to go out with Raul

without panties on, but I cajoled her into going bare under her

short dress.  I told her that I promised him she would.  She was

faced with the prospect of having to come clean, or play the part

of a woman who likes showing her pussy.  I wanted to see how

badly she wanted to preserve her stories, and I discovered she

wanted to preserve them very badly.  



After she removed her panties, I said, "Now, he'll want to check

for himself, so don't make a fuss whether he lifts your skirt for

a look, or reaches under for a feel."



Cynthia recoiled at that thought, and said, "I can't let him do

that."



"Damn, Cynthia.  I don't understand you.  If you won't have sex

with this guy, the least you could do, the very least, is to let

him do anything else.  Compared to everything else you've done,

this is nothing.  Unless you were lying about all that."



"I wasn't lying about anything.  You saw the man's sperm for

yourself.  I just don't want to encourage him any more than I

have to, that's all."



"Well, you're going to have to let him check your pussy out as

often as he likes and however he likes, and act like you enjoy

showing it, even if people are watching.  If you don't, you're

going to make me look like a liar, and we can kiss that promotion

goodbye."



"Damn, Bill, why did you go back to see him and tell him those

things?"



"Because of what you told me.  I didn't see a problem.  Hell, two

days ago you wanted me to exaggerate your sexual prowess.  Today,

when I go in and tell him how you really are, without

exaggeration, even holding back some information, you say I

should have lied the other way.  Jesus Christ, Cynthia, make up

your mind.  Actually, it's too late to do that.  He's been told. 

He's expecting a hot woman who likes to show her pussy, and that

woman better be you.  I can forgive your cheating, I can forgive

what you did with my father, I can forgive all the sperm you let

into your unprotected womb, but if you ruin my chances for

promotion, Cynthia, I don't think I could forgive you for that."



"Bill, I..."



"What, Cynthia?"



"Nothing.  I suppose it won't hurt to give him some cheap

thrills, but you'd better make damn sure he doesn't try to screw

me.  I have a weakness for big cocks, so you better be alert and

ready to intervene if you don't want a black baby calling you

Daddy.  Frankly, I could care less.  In fact, my lover is black."



I made a mock pained expression and said, "Oh, Cynthia, how could

you?"



"That's right, Bill.  That was a black man's sperm you saw in my

pussy yesterday.  Deal with that."



I was just about to deal with it when we heard a horn honking in

our driveway.  Cynthia tightened, and said, "Oh shit.  That's

him."



"Remember what I said, Cynthia.  You get your mind set to show

your pussy, all evening if necessary."



We left the bedroom and stopped at the door so Cynthia could give

last minute instructions to the sitter, a sixteen-year-old from

the neighborhood.  Kevin and John, my boys, and Angie followed

the sitter out to wave goodbye to us from the front step.  Raul

met us at the door and tossed me his keys.  I missed them and

fell back to pick them up.  I saw Raul pull Cynthia to him and

turn to walk with her to the car.  He swung an arm low around

Cynthia's waist, pulled her close and introduced himself while

sliding his hand below her skirt hem in the rear.  Me, my kids,

and my sitter saw him move the skirt up Cynthia's legs and on up

over her naked ass cheeks.



They hadn't taken six steps from us.  Cynthia stopped dead when

she felt her skirt clear her ass.  I could not believe what I

saw, and froze picking up the keys.  Raul swung around to stand

before Cynthia, then used both hands to cup her bare ass cheeks,

pulling her cunt in tight to his crotch, then bending to kiss

her.  Cynthia's hands came up as though to stop him or push him

away, but seconds into the kiss, her hands slowly fell to hang

limply at her sides.  



At that moment, I wanted to scream or rush them, turn a hose on

them, something.  As the kiss went on, and as Raul's fingers

drifted lower toward Cynthia's sex pouch, which was already

visible to us, as his big dark hands kneaded and pulled at her

fleshy white globes, exposing more of her pouting cunt lips, even

her asshole, I didn't want to move.  



The scene was the most erotic sight I ever saw, and the damage

had already been done.  The kids were rooted in place.  We were

all watching his fingers move down and in toward her moist

center, while he whispered something in her ear.  Soon, his

fingers were massaging her swollen cunt lips, rubbing over her

hanging clit, pulling her sex open, then squeezing her shut.  On

and on it went while Cynthia simply stood limply hanging on his

words and his kisses.  Cynthia was oblivious to everything around

her.  She had to be to allow such a crude exhibition to go on

before her kids, a neighbor, and me.



I had to do something, so I moved to open the passenger side door

for them.  They ignored that hint.  I went to the driver's side,

climbed in and started the car.  They ignored that as well. 

Luckily, the sun had set an hour ago, and the streets were empty

and quiet.  Only one house had a view, and it was vacant.  They

were illuminated by the porch light and the light from the

walkway lights shined up from below.  The sitter stood rooted

with the kids around her.



I knew they were going to fuck when I saw Cynthia drop her arms,

but I didn't think they'd fuck on my front lawn in front of my

kids and a girl with a reputation for talking.  The idea that

they might do just that had my dick hard.  Just when I thought

they would never stop, they broke the kiss.  Raul, turned Cynthia

to face the kids.  She stood staring straight ahead, arms

hanging, as Raul reached for the zipper of her dress and slowly

dragged her zipper down to her ass.  Cynthia made no move to stop

him, even as he peeled the sleeves off her naked shoulders.  The

dress fell to Cynthia's feet, leaving her in a bra that he

quickly divested her of.



Raul got close in behind her, pulled her head back by the chin,

and resumed the kiss as he molded Cynthia's breasts.  After a few

seconds on her breasts, his hands slid down to her crotch. 

Though I only saw the action from profile, he was manipulating

her cunt as he'd done from the rear.  He finger fucked her.  Of

that, I had no doubt.  The action of his plunging hand coming up

in the center told me that much.  He stopped for a second to

place Cynthia's hands in her crotch.  When he let go, they

remained, but not idle.  Cynthia was masturbating befor the kids

as Raul freed his cock and slid it through her wet inner thighs. 

The end popped out the front by three inches and Cynthia pulled

the thick chocolate shaft tightly to her cunt.



I thought I'd seen it all, but then Raul reached down and lifted

Cynthia's left leg almost straight up with his arm hooked under

her knee, also while turning her one quarter.  The kids had the

best view as they looked at Cynthia's beaver in the standing

splits as Cynthia guided Raul's cock to her opening.  Even I

could see the head press in and the eight inches of shaft that

followed.  



They fucked in this position.  Cynthia was delirious from the

first entry, and in a stupor by the end.  She came several times,

but her climaxes were not much more dramatic than her response to

the fucking in general.  When Raul came, he gave her three more

inches of cock.  There wasn't enough cock left out to get a fist

around.



He left his cock deeply embedded as he lowered her leg.  He had

to hold her up until she could stand steady.  He then drew out. 

I saw the white river of cum pour out of her gaping wide hole and

cascade down both inner thighs.  Raul stepped back.  Cynthia went

forward and kept going forward until she got to the kids.  She

stood before them, full front and talked.  I couldn't hear what

she was saying, but I could see where the kids were looking. 

They seemed fascinated by her pussy, and rightfully so.  I was

fascinated.  



Raul gathered Cynthia's dress and came over to the car.  He

leaned his head in and said, "Piece of cake.  What did I tell

you?"



I said, "Did you have to fuck her in front of my kids, for Christ

sake?"



"I didn't have to, I wanted to.  Cynthia got off on it.  By the

looks of things, so did you.  Don't worry, the kids will see much

worse when Rambo Sambo stops by.  He likes to fuck the mommies in

front of the kiddies.  They'll get used to it, but they never

tire of watching."



I looked back to see what was taking Cynthia so long and saw her

standing with her knees out, stooped over with her hands in her

crotch.  The kids were on their knees looking at the pussy she

was showing them.  Raul said, "She sure is proud of her pussy. 

She's acting like she never took a cock bigger than her finger."



Cynthia returned moments later and hopped in the car, declining

Raul's offer of the dress.  Raul got in beside her, tossed her

dress in the back seat, then pulled the door shut.  Cynthia said,

"You believe me now, don't you.  I warned you; I can't resist a

man with a big cock.  I guess you want a baby."



I said, "What were you talking to the kids about?"



"I had to explain why we were fucking on the front lawn, didn't

I?"



"And you explained that?"



"Sure.  I told them I was horny, and I'm in a hurry to make them

a new brother or sister.  Besides, Carla wanted to negotiate a

deal for her silence.  She wants to call her boyfriend over so he

can watch us when we get back tonight.  She wants to see us do it

on the living room floor with all the lights on.  The kids want

to stay up.  Can we do that, Raul?"



"Sure, baby, but you need a fresh cock if you're going to

perform.  I'll call Rambo Sambo from the club and have him meet

you here.  He's blacker than midnight with a cock bigger than

mine, only a little shorter.  He'll warm-up your audience for

you.  He's good with kids."



She said, "Call Carla over so I can tell her to let him in."



I said, "Cynthia, are you nuts?"



She ignored me and turned to the window to yell for the sitter.

Carla flounced over.  "Carla, there will be a big black man

coming over sometime tonight.  He's going to do the fucking you

want to see, so let him in and be nice to him.  He'll keep you

all entertained until I get back."



"Kevin and John want to fuck Angie.  Angie wants to let them.  Do

you mind?"



"No, I don't mind.  You guys have fun.  Come on, Bill.  Let's go. 

The sooner we get there, the sooner I can show more pussy and get

more cock."



                        *   *   *



As it turned out, the club was Raul's, and it was a private club. 

Cynthia did a strip tease on a stage and performed every sex act

imaginable with Eugene before eighty people.  When we arrived

home, Rambo Sambo was giving my naked Angie a horsie ride on his

horsie cock.  Everyone was naked.  Cynthia fucked Rambo Sambo on

my living room floor with five minors peering in at their fucking

crotches from every angle.  On Monday morning, I stripped Cynthia

in the lobby and carried her to Mr. Killinger's office, then set

her on his desk.  Cynthia made a spread for him and said, "I need

Killinger cock, and lots of it."



I got the promotion.



                           The End