Chapter 4
June Stanley stood beside her boss's chair, as she knew he liked to have her do, while he looked over the morning mail that she'd just brought in. His hand slid up the back of her thighs, under her miniskirt, and caressed the firm, springy globes of her ass.
"How did you enjoy our little game yesterday with Mrs. Peterson?" he asked casually as he examined the letters in front of him on the desktop.
"It was kicky," she said, knowing that was what he wanted to hear.
But it was kicky. There wasn't any doubt about that
He pulled down her pantyhose and fondled her fanny through her thin, clinging mini briefs. "Peterson ought to be in his office by now. Call him as soon as you leave and tell him I'd like to see him."
"Yes, sir," she said, getting itchy from his fondling.
He slid his hand inside her briefs and made her even more itchy as he rubbed his middle finger shallowly up and down the crack of her butt. What a horny, old man he is!
"I'll see if I can arrange another little session," he said, "this time at the Peterson's home. you'll go there with me, won't you?"
Why did he have to ask? Surely he didn't believe she would refuse to do anything he wanted. But that was Brower - insisting that everything be formally correct while he gave the whole world a screwing.
"I'd like that, "June said.
"Good. Now get hold of Peterson for me."
He gave her bare bottom a couple of quick pats, then restored her mini briefs and pantyhose to their correct positions.
June hurried out.
Five minutes later, his intercom buzzed. He touched a button. "Yes?" "Mr. Peterson is here," June reported. "Send him in, please."
Brower was leaning back in his luxurious, leather chair and smiling faintly when Lyle walked into his office.
"Sit down ... sit down," Brower said expansively, and gestured toward a chair in front of his desk.
Lyle, looking sheepish and a little hung-over, did as directed.
"You have a very charming wife, Lyle. I had no idea."
"About that, Mr. Brower ..."
Brower held up a finger. "Please. Let's not belabor the past. Let's talk about the future. I'll expect greater attention to duty on your part from now on."
"Yes, sir. You can count on that."
"Good. Now ... something else: I think it would be appropriate for you, your delightful wife and me to get together for a little social evening. Naturally, bring a friend.-"
"Well, of course. That sounds pleasant indeed. At our place - let's say, tomorrow night?"
"Very good. Oh, Lyle ... in case there's any talk around the office, or if you find yourself getting strange looks, just ignore them. They don't mean anything."
Lyle blinked at him. "I... I don't understand."
"Don't you? But surely you must know what happened yesterday. Your wife must have told you."
"She said she came to see you."
"Is that all she said?" Brower's gray eyes twinkled.
"What... more is there?"
Brower tilted back his head and chuckled, as if enjoying a private joke. "Oh, nothing. Nothing. Just ignore the gossip and glances. Keep your eye on the ball, Lyle. That's the way to get ahead around here. And I'll see your tomorrow night - at around nine o'clock?" "Y-yes, that would be fine."
Lyle was a very confused man as he left Brower's office. What had the old bastard meant about what happened yesterday? And twice he'd referred to gossip and strange looks. What was all that about?
This morning, on his way in, he'd received a couple of peculiar glances, but he'd assumed they were prompted by a rumor that he'd been fired. No announcement to that effect had been made and he'd assumed that if such a rumor was out, his return to the office today would put it to rest. Is there more to it than just that?
He thought of calling Elizabeth right away, then vetoed it. She'd been very chilly last night and this morning. Maybe tonight he could get her to talk to him and tell him what the hell Brower was driving at.
And how about the way Brower had practically invited himself over to the Petersons' home? It was a compliment, of course, to have the boss as a guest - and Lyle might be able to score a few extra points that would help in winning the big promotion that was coming up-but Brower had sort of taken things for granted, and that was what Lyle didn't like.
Well, the old man must finally have gotten drunk on the absolute power he had in the company. Lyle could hardly blame him. Anything Brower wanted, both in and outside the office, was his at the snap of his fingers. Shit, he didn't even have to do that. All he had to do was hint.
Elizabeth gave Lyle a blank look that evening when he reported what Brower had said.
"Surely you must know what the old fart's driving at," Lyle insisted.
"I haven't the faintest idea."
"Well, it's true that I did get some funny looks today. My secretary acted very peculiar."
"Old Mrs. Forrestal always acts strange. You've told me that before."
"But not this strange. Liz, are you telling me the complete truth about yesterday?"
"Of course. What else would there be to tell? I just asked Brower to give you another chance, and he agreed."
"Very well. If you say so. Oh, incidentally, he and a friend are coming over tomorrow evening."
"What?"
"Well, don't look so shocked. It's a feather in my hat to have the boss accept an invitation to visit us, especially after all this fuss. It shows everything's forgiven."
Elizabeth bit her Up.
"Talk about acting strange," Lyle said, "what's gotten into you?"
"It's nothing," she said, and turned away.
God, how was she going to cope with this? How could she treat Brower as if nothing had happened between them? How could she keep Lyle from finding out? And what in hell did Brower have in mind, anyway? He must have engineered the invitation. Lyle wouldn't have taken it upon himself to invite him without consulting her first.
And there were those strange looks Lyle said he was getting. Brower's secretary had blabbed! That had to be the only explanation.
It was a fucked-up mess, and Elizabeth was caught in the middle of it. But it was all Lyle's fault. If he weren't so incompetent, he wouldn't have pissed Brower off and gotten himself fired.
The next evening, she was on needles awaiting Brower's arrival. Who's the guest he's bringing? she wondered. And what's the point of the whole thing - to make me grovel some more? To tease me in some cute way?
Lyle looked forward to the evening. It would be an opportunity, he felt, to get to know the boss better, and at this stage in his career that could only be a good thing.
The kids were packed off to grandmother's for the night. It wouldn't do, when the boss was there, to have a sleepy, little face appear at the living room door and report a bad dream, the need for a drink of water, or any of the countless other complaints which children of six and seven years could hatch in the late evening hours.
At the sound of the door chimes, Lyle jumped up. "They're here!" he announced.
Elizabeth tensed. She got up and followed him to the door.
Lyle's eyes widened with surprise when he saw June standing there, beside the boss. He'd heard whispers that there was something going on between them, but it was a shock to have him bring her to the Petersons' home as his "date". Still, he was a single man and could escort anyone he liked, Lyle supposed.
Lyle's surprise was nothing compared to Elizabeth's. She could have fallen through the floor.
Right on the heels of her shock came a sickening dread: Brower had planned something bizarre. She just knew it. But she forced a smile.
Pleasant greetings were said all around. Lyle introduced June to his wife, saying he wasn't sure whether they'd ever met (Hah!)
Brower eyed Elizabeth with sardonic amusement, but there was nothing in what he said to arouse Lyle's suspicions. Elizabeth found herself gazing at June, and the cute, young blonde seemed to reciprocate her interest.
At first, as drinks were served and the conversation ranged over light, impersonal topics, there was no hint that anything unusual was going to happen. But Brower's meaningful glances kept Elizabeth's tension up. He was just biding his time, she realized.
Gradually, by prearrangement between Brower and herself, June moved in on Lyle. At the same time, Brower began to monopolize Elizabeth's attention. Finally he made his move. As they stood close together, chatting about current trends in the films, he placed his hand on her hip.
It's happening, she realized as a jolt went through her. Brower kept talking and smiling, holding his glass in one hand while the other caressed her hip in slow rotation, pressing her thin dress against her panties and flesh.
She grasped his hand with hers, but the sudden, steely change of his expression told her she mustn't stop him. He' continued to talk, as if nothing had happened. Her hand fell away. A helpless glaze came over her eyes. He moved closer and slid his hand to her buttock. He massaged the springy globe deftly and pulled her against him at the same time. In another moment he was caressing both her buttocks, rubbing them in slow rotation, activating her shivery flesh, setting her nerves atingle.
On cue, June said to Lyle, "Oh, look what they're doing!"
Lyle glanced, and his blood chilled. It looked to him as if Elizabeth were as responsible for the embrace as was Brower. She was standing right up against the man, pressing her tits into his chest, but Brower's hand became the focus of Lyle's attention.
June watched Lyle. It was going to be interesting to see how he reacted - what he did, if anything, about this blatant challenge to the sanctity of his home.
Brower was prepared for any sort of response from Lyle, at first. But he was confident that Lyle's considered response would be one that would let him go ahead. Elizabeth, as well as June, would help bring that about.
Lyle started to speak, then checked himself. He kept watching.
Brower looked at him. Elizabeth's back was aimed his way. While Lyle watched, his anger and perplexity building, Brower began to pull Elizabeth's skirt up.
She'd heard June's remark. She knew Lyle must be looking at them. "No!" she said, under her breath, to Brower. But she was afraid to push away from him.
He lifted her skirt higher and higher. Lyle seethed. June wanted to giggle, but she managed to restrain the urge. Elizabeth's skirt deserted the tops of her stockings. Her garters and bare flesh were exposed.
Brower suddenly pulled her skirt the rest of the way up to her waist, exposing her ass in clinging, pink, nylon briefs.
"Hey ...!" Lyle said in a raspy voice, and stepped forward.
"Tell him, darling," Brower purred to Elizabeth, and turned her so she could face her husband. He continued to hold her skirt bunched at her waist.
Her frightened gaze met Lyle's.
"Wh-what do you want me to say?" she asked Brower helplessly, as Lyle's shock increased.
This can't be happening, he thought. But it is!
'Tell him you want me to fuck you," Brower instructed, in a smooth, confident tone.
Her jaw trembled.
Lyle stood rooted to the floor, gazing at them in amazement.
"Go ahead," Brower prompted, a little smile on his face. Elizabeth said, "I... I... want him to ..." Her voice faltered.
"Fuck," Brower supplied. "Say fuck, darling. You want me to fuck you."
"I want him to ... fuck me," she told Lyle. "My God," he murmured.
June moved up to Lyle and ran her fingers through his hair as she pressed a titty against his arm. "You have me," she purred.
For the life of him, Lyle didn't know how this strange development had happened. But it had. And there seemed to be nothing in the world that he could do about it. He wasn't sure if he even wanted to do anything about it.
He looked down at June, smiling so invitingly as she pressed against him, and he wanted to fuck her. Here. Now.
He didn't know what Brower had done to mesmerize Elizabeth, but the thought of him screwing her, now that the initial shock had passed, wasn't exactly repugnant. In fact, it set off a tickle of added excitement within Lyle.
But, he didn't voice his approval of the arrangement. He merely turned and drew June into his arms.
Now it was Elizabeth's turn to be shocked, but the reaction was short-lived and not intense. She had become virtually shockproof during the last couple of days.
Brower set his drink down and leaned close to her, whispering in her ear as he petted her belly and bottom through the thin panties.
"We're going to have a lot of fun, darling," he said, "and your husband is going to have the pleasure of watching us. Then I may let him make love to you while I watch. How would you like that?"
"No ... please," she said in a small voice. Her body was suddenly afire from the effects of his petting. She watched Lyle and June in their clinch, and the vision began to swim before her eyes.
Brower slid one hand into her panties at the back, and it rode the crack of her buttocks down to the plump, lower portions of the cheeks. At the same time, his other hand stroked the hairy mound of her pussy through the clinging nylon. She felt humiliated standing there in the middle of her own living room, her skirt wound around her waist, while this man touched her intimately, inside and outside of her pants.
Lyle quit kissing June for a moment and glanced at his wife. She gazed back at him glassily as she submitted to Brower's brazen caresses. This vision of her hyped Lyle's libido, for some strange reason, and he turned back to June. This time he ran both hands up, underneath her minidress.
She wasn't wearing pantyhose this evening, but only bikini briefs. Lyle petted her firm, pertly rounded buttocks. They were more compact than his wife's. His prick was rampant in his clothes as he pulled June's mini briefs down and got his hands on her bare pussy and ass.
"Oooh, I like that!" she said, following Brower's orders to keep Lyle stimulated to the maximum degree.
Actually, she had no respect for him. Any man who would let himself be treated in his own home as Lyle was being treated tonight was beneath contempt, she felt. And yet she let Brower treat her as he wished in the office, and here, for the same reason - to hold onto her job. Did the fact that she was female make a difference in her judgment? Perhaps.
Brower pulled down Elizabeth's panties, then said, "Sit Over here, darling." He guided her to an ottoman.
She sat, and he pulled her panties off. He knelt on the rug in front of her and parted her thighs widely. Lyle watched as Brower gazed at her exposed cunt
'Take my dress off," June whispered.
Still watching his wife and Brower, Lyle pulled the zipper down June's back and began to raise her outer garment Her hand settled on the hump at the front of his pants. More excitement churned through him as she petted his hard-on through his clothes.
June wore only the mini briefs under her dress. Her well-shaped, pink-nippled titties stuck out, inviting Lyle's caresses. He took hold of both firm promontories with his fingers and thumbs. He rubbed and pinched the nipples. June worked his zipper down and snaked a hand in, through his fly.
Brower slid his hands up the inner slopes of Elizabeth's thighs, off her stockings, and onto warm, bare flesh.
"Ooooh," she said, and tilted her head back a little. Her bushy cunt seemed to reach for him.
He moved his thumbs all the way up to it and rubbed the velvety, large lips, stroking the hairs this way and that. Gradually, he pulled the large lips farther apart so that more of her inner meat was revealed. Moisture began to drool along the folds of flesh.
When Lyle glanced back their way, he couldn't see exactly what Brower was doing, because Elizabeth wasn't facing him.
"Let's move over there," he told June, and began to back up. He drew her with him by continuing to hold onto her tits, pinching and rubbing her nipples.
She disliked him even more strongly, but she gave no sign of it. She went along.
Now he stood where he could watch Brower rubbing the soft, hairy portals of Elizabeth's cunt wiggling the meaty folds and opening them wider. June glanced and was interested, but her main interest right now had to be Lyle, regardless of how she felt about it
She worked her hand into his Jockey shorts, gripped his cock, and pulled it out through his fly. Elizabeth opened her eyes and saw her husband standing there with his prick exposed and June's hand around it, but this vision had only a limited impact on her consciousness, for her mind was ablaze with passion inspired by Brower's deft wiggling of her pussy.
Lyle gazed in fascination at the sight. He loved having June's soft, cool hand wrapped around his stiff pecker, but the spectacle of Brower rubbing his wife's cunt lips was somehow more exciting. His priorities of interest had become reversed. June was pleasant to play with, but this business between Elizabeth and Brower proved exciting in the extreme.
"Lie back against the chair, dear," Brower instructed Elizabeth.
She lay back, keeping her hips on the ottoman. He gripped the backs of her stockinged knees and lifted her legs to form a vee. He propped one leg against his shoulder and held the other with his hand. His middle finger began to probe her twat, which had turned into a pudding of rosy flesh.
He slowly circled his finger, reaming her cunt. He stretched the labia this way and that. He concentrated on her clit for a moment, prodding the hard nubbin with his fingertip.
"Ooh, God!" Elizabeth cried.
"Look at them ... look at them ..." Lyle murmured passionately.
As well as disliking him for his enjoyment of Brower finger-fucking his wife, June was miffed because he seemed to have lost interest in her. She would bring him back, the bastard!
She dropped to her knees in front of him. Her hand, which encircled his penis, slid back the foreskin, exposing the plump, rosy knob of his cock. The aroma of his aroused maleness reached her nostrils. She moved forward and kissed the tip of his prick.
The act achieved its purpose. A pleasurable shock went through Lyle, and his attention was drawn back to her. He looked down and watched her pale, pink lips working on the end of his pecker.
Elizabeth didn't see this. For a while, after lying back, she'd looked at the ceiling, but now her eyes were closed, and she concentrated entirely on the exquisite sensations of touch which she received from Brower's probing finger in the soft, throbbing core of her body.
Now that firm, slender probe slid into her channel and worked up and down, in and out Brower paused to ream her pussy with a slow, rotating motion, then resumed the penetrating thrusts.
Elizabeth moaned and writhed, fucking the finger as it fucked her.
June continued to suck on the end of Lyle's happily pulsating prick. Wave after wave of pleasure surged through him. His gaze swung back and forth from June's gently bobbing blonde head, and her lips around the end of his cock, to his wife squirming, with her legs up, while Brower methodically frigged her sopping, hot cunt with his hand.
This ordinary, middle-class living room had suddenly, almost inexplicably, turned into a passion pit. And the action had only begun.
Brower quit diddling Elizabeth's pussy and lowered her legs, so that her feet touched the floor. He moved forward and took off her dress and brassiere. Her bare tits flopped to and fro as she squirmed. He basketed them between his hands and shook them gently, causing the responsive flesh to shiver. Her beige nipples stuck up, big and hard.
He bent and kissed one, caressing it with his tongue as he sucked. He went to the other and sucked it, also.
Now he stood and quickly took off his clothes. He glanced Lyle's way, but Lyle avoided his eyes. Lyle stared at his all-but-naked wife, who lay spraddle-legged on the chair and ottoman.
June stopped mouthing his penis and stood up, her tight tits vibrating. They were smaller and firmer than his wife's, but not as roundly voluptuous.
"Take your clothes off, hmmm?" June suggested. "I'll help you."
Brower got naked first. Lyle couldn't help but glance it his cock and note its considerable size. But with all his fooling around with Elizabeth, his penis hadn't become hard.
Lyle's prick stayed up while he and June, working together, got all his clothes off. Now everyone in the room was naked, except for the bikini panties which June wore and Elizabeth's stockings and garter belt.
While Lyle and June watched, Brower pushed the ottoman against the edge of the chair where Elizabeth sprawled. This caused her ass to slide off the ottoman. He gripped her under the arms and pulled her to a sitting position on the chair. He knelt on the chair seat and ottoman, straddling her thighs.
"Suck me," he told her.
June stood close to Lyle and once more wrapped her hand around his erect cock. He watched with heightened fascination and mounting excitement as Brower gently but firmly pushed Elizabeth's head down toward his cock and balls.
She lifted the sizable but limp pecker. She placed her mouth against the hp of his foreskin and pushed it back, taking the cockhead into her mouth. She sucked and gently chomped on it. This produced a quick response. Brower's prick stiffened, and soon its knob filled her mouth.
Lyle watched his wife's cheeks and throat muscles working as she sucked and licked the juicy, plump cock.
"Well, are you just gonna look at them, or are we gonna have some fun?" June wanted to know.
He shifted his gaze back to her. "We're going to make it," he declared with conviction, because he was more than ready now. He'd taken nearly all the stimulation that he could stand.
She got down onto the floor. He dropped to a kneeling position beside her and pulled off her clingy, brief pants. She opened her legs.
He noted, just before he assumed a screwing position, that Brower was bobbing his hips forward and back, pumping his cock in and out of Elizabeth's mouth. He was, in fact, fucking her mouth. And she was taking to the treatment passionately.
If Lyle resented this at all, the negative aspect had to take second place to the excitement it gave him. He fell forward atop June, drove his hard cock into her pussy, and began to hump her.
She moved with him, but soon discovered that she couldn't maintain a satisfactory rhythm. He was driving too fast, already going for his payoff.
The hell with him, June thought. She didn't much care whether she reached a climax or not during this phase of the evening's festivities. Much lay ahead, as Brower had explained to her.
Lyle fucked her faster and faster. He came, jerking and jetting his hot sauce into her quim.
Right after he finished, he raised his face and watched through slightly glazed eyes as Brower jammed his dick deep into Elizabeth's throat. His buttocks were compressed. Lyle saw the tremors pass through him and knew he was finishing.
Elizabeth gurgled and groaned as his thick cream flooded down her throat. God, but he had a lot of it! She drank it all and kept sucking. His cock began to shrivel in her mouth. Finally she let it go and it plopped out, dragging down across her chin. It trailed a thin stream of semen, mixed with her spit.
She wiped her chin with her hand and gazed up at him as he stood.
"That was very good, my dear. As I believe I told you before, you're an excellent cocksucker."
He turned to Lyle. "Your wife gives head very well, Peterson."
"I know," Lyle said.
Oh, you turd! thought June. Get off me, will you?
As if she'd vocalized the request, he did get off. She sat up.
"Would you like a drink?" Brower asked Elizabeth with a wry smile. "Something to wash down the semen?"
"No," she moaned. "I want to be fucked."
"I'm afraid that's impossible at the moment. Neither your husband nor I can be of any help to you. But if you'd settle for June ... ?"
"Yes!" Elizabeth exclaimed, looking at the cute blonde. "I want June!"
To Lyle, this was the greatest shock of all. Still he didn't offer an objection. He just watched.
June went to Elizabeth gratefully ... eagerly. The two women lay down together on the floor.