Chapter 6
"What rotten luck!" Don exclaimed when he returned from the telephone. "That was Frank Pearson, Mr. Brower. He's run into a snag on the Ami-Cron contract. He's got all their people together now, and he wants me to get over there and help him close the deal. I'm sorry to have to run like this."
Brower stood up. "Business comes first, of course. Don't let me detain you. It was a delightful evening, Don and Jennifer." He moved toward the door.
"But you don't have to leave, Mr. Brower," Jennifer said, standing up. "This business shouldn't take long, should it, darling?" she asked her husband.
"Only about an hour," he said. "Pearson's got the Ami-Cron people in a restaurant near here. Please stay, Mr. Brower. Have another drink. I'll be back as soon as I can."
Brower glanced from Don to his wife and noted the hopeful expressions on their faces. Suddenly it occurred to him that perhaps there was more to this development than appeared on the surface. It was possible that Don had heard something in the office about his new closeness with the Petersons, and Don had whispered something in Jennifer's pretty ear. All evening she'd been very friendly - almost too friendly for a wife in the presence of her husband, unless...
He smiled. "All right, I'll stay. I'm sure Jennifer and I can find much to talk about."
Don beamed. Jennifer looked greatly relieved.
"I doubt if you two will miss me at all," Don said, as he hurried to get his coat.
His car had no sooner backed out of the driveway before
Jennifer moved over beside Brower on the sofa. She looked very appealing tonight, with her red hair done up in an elaborate coiffure and wearing a white, clingy dress that was cut low at her breasts.
He swore she wasn't wearing a brassiere, judging by the way those titties quivered when she moved. But they were remarkably erect and shapely. She had a beautiful set!
Brower decided to see how far he could go with her. It wouldn't do any harm, since Don was beholden to him, and Jennifer wasn't likely to cause any trouble. The worst she could do was say no. He'd intended to make a play for her one of these days, anyway. As a successful businessman, he knew it was necessary to venture in order to gain. Who knows, Jennifer could turn out to be another Liz Peterson.
Don might even prove to be another Lyle. He was certainly as hungry for the sales manager's position as Lyle was. And behind every ambitious man, wasn't there an ambitious woman?
As Jennifer smiled and chatted, she leaned forward slightly, causing her neckline to droop. Brower gazed openly at her tits.
"You have very beautiful breasts," he said.
"Why, thank you, Mr. Brower!" She seemed definitely pleased.
"Call me Cy, won't you?"
"It would be a pleasure." Her green eyes promised illicit delights.
He reached out and opened her neckline a little wider. She didn't object or lean back. Her conical tits were revealed almost to her nipples.
"Very beautiful, indeed," he commented, running his fingers slowly up the edge of her dress to where it rounded her neck.
"Would you like to .. . see more of them?" she inquired boldly.
His fingers moved quickly to her zipper and let it down. The front of her dress sagged, exposing the rims of her pale pink aureoles.
Brower carefully lifted the dress off her shoulders and let it slide down her arms. Her titties stood revealed in all their naked glory.
"Delightful!" he said.
She waited, her nerves tense.
His hands moved up, beneath her tits, and took hold of the projecting, firm shapes. His fingers sank into the resilient flesh, but not far. Her tits were too tight and girlish for that. She'd never been pregnant, so, as far as her breasts were concerned, she was in fact girlish.
Brower rubbed his thumbs back and forth across the dowel-like pink tips, bending them. His touch stimulated her, and not only because he was her husband's boss and in a position to grant large favors. He knew how to treat a woman - that was apparent already.
"May I see the rest of you?" he asked, as casually as if he were offering to hold her wrap.
"Of course."
She stood up, next to his legs.
He carefully worked her dress down, over her hips and thighs, then let it fall to form a puddle around her feet. She wore long, sheer stockings, gartered high on her thighs to a lacy belt which she wore on top of the skimpiest, sheerest mini briefs he'd ever seen. They were only a whisper of flesh-colored nylon which let the fluffy, red hairs of her pussy show through.
He placed his fingertips on her mound, touching her through the filmy pants.
"Mmmmm!" she said, and tilted her head back. She closed her eyes.
He petted her snatch and his pecker came up hard in his shorts.
He began to ungarter her stockings. She stood submissively while he stroked both stockings down. She lifted a foot and placed it on his knee, so he could remove her shoe and stocking. He gazed at the new exposure of her crotch, which included just a bit of her pussy lips. She switched feet, and he removed her other shoe and stocking. When she stepped down again, he reached behind her, opened her garter belt, and drew it away.
He turned her so he could look at her ass. The thin, transparent panties hid none of its natural beauty. The cheeks were firm, set closely together, and beautifully rounded.
He took hold of her panties at the top and drew them down.
"I'd like to fuck you, Jennifer," he said.
She turned to face him with her panties wound around her knees. "I'd enjoy having you fuck me," she told him,, "but I want to do something else first."
"What's that?"
"I want to suck your cock."
His happy prick gave a jerk in his shorts.
Don had heard about Elizabeth and him, of course. Probably he'd put his wife up to this. Or perhaps this was her own idea, after he'd reported what had happened when Elizabeth was in Brower's office.
It made no difference. Either way, Brower was going to carve himself a choice piece of ass tonight. And before that he was going to have the satisfaction of inserting his prick in the mouth of this lovely woman.
Ah, the benefits that devolved upon the president of the firm!
"Why don't we do something about these pants?" she suggested, indicating the briefs which were still wound around her pretty knees.
"An excellent idea," Brower said.
He took hold of them and worked them the rest of the way down. She daintily stepped out.
"I love redheads," he said, gazing at the hair on her mound.
She smiled. "It's what's underneath that counts."
"Up front, things are all right, too."
Again he took hold of her tits, stroked them outward to the nipples and let them go with a little flip. They shivered provocatively.
"Mmmmm!" she said. "I'm getting anxious."
He wondered how much of what she said was real and how much was put on, merely to impress him. He determined to find out.
He took her by the hands and urged her down to a kneeling position. He placed her hands on the front of his trousers. She felt his large, hard rod.
'That's what I want!" she declared.
"Well, take it."
She unzipped his pants, reached inside, and brought his stiff prick out. "It's very large," she said, as she handled his cock.
"Skin it," he said, watching her. carefully.
She slid the foreskin back and gazed at the rosy head. Her eyes weren't as impassioned as they might have been, in view of the way she'd been talking. She was methodical. He wondered if she felt anything at all.
The tip of her index finger tickled the tip of his prick. A pleasant jolt went through him.
She bent and blew gently on the cockhead. It twitched. A look of satisfaction came over her face. Slowly her mouth approached his prick, her pink lips parting wide.
Her mouth touched him, and he received another burst of pleasure. He watched her lips crawl forward on his cock, until they enclosed the entire head. Now excitement gripped him and held on. It throbbed in steady waves as she sucked and ran her tongue around his prick.
She tilted her head this way and that, so she could go at his cock from different angles as she let him watch her lips working on it. She reached into his clothes and brought out his heavy balls. She slowly slid her moist lips off his prick. It gleamed. She pointed it straight up and licked down its underside, her rosy tongue fluttering.
She ran her tongue onto his nuts and licked through the long hairs. She even caught some hairs between her teeth and pulled gently.
She was good at this. It was difficult to choose between Elizabeth and her as to which one of them was the best fellatrix. The idea occurred to Brower that perhaps it would be interesting to stage a little contest...
"That's it, dear," he said. "Lick well."
"I love it!" she said gaspingly as she lifted her head. Then she immediately dived once more and began to lick around the ridge of his corona,, where his foreskin was folded back.
He was very sensitive in that area. His cock swelled more; it quivered.
"That's enough," he said finally, for he wanted to retain sufficient resistance to screw her well. "Let me take off my clothes."
She raised her head and gracefully got to her feet. Her titties vibrated tightly.
Admiring her, he stood and began to disrobe. She smiled at him. She was very poised. Too poised, he decided.
"What would Don think if he were to come home now?" Brower asked.
"Let's hope he doesn't," she said, but she didn't sound like a woman who was worried.
Brower decided to prolong the playtime in the hope that Don would in fact return and catch them cavorting in the nude. That would place things on a sounder basis.
The next step would be to get the Petersons and Waverlys together. . . with him, of course, and perhaps someone else. He smiled to himself. There were a number of interesting possibilities.
He faced her in the nude, his huge cock soaring out and slightly upward from his hairy bush. He had the virility of a man of twenty. That came from keeping his body in good condition and maintaining a zest for sex - something that most men tended to lose in middle-age. But most men in middle-age don't have the opportunity to be stimulated by so many attractive young women.
"Do you want to go into the bedroom?" Jennifer asked. "No," he said. "I'd rather fuck you here." She smiled. "You like that word, don't you?" "It's an honest word .. . and stimulating."
"I agree. Do you want to fuck me on the rug or on the couch?"
She was entirely too cool and methodical, he thought to himself again. He became more determined to shake her up, if that were possible, and find out what she was really thinking.
"Get down on all fours," he said.
She didn't bat an eye. She dropped nimbly to the floor. "On my knees or ...?"
"Yes. Knees and hands," he replied, then reconsidered. "No. Knees and shoulders."
She bent to that position, and he lined himself up behind her. Her cute ass stuck up in the air, and her thighs were parted to expose her red-fuzzed pussy. A thin line of moist rosiness showed between the plushy outer lips.
He took hold of the cheeks of her ass and spread them. She looked at him quickly over her shoulder.
She had a cute, little asshole, neat and pinkish. There were no hairs around it - not even tiny ones - and the area between her asshole and cunt was just as smooth and dainty.
Holding his cock in his fist, he moved closer on his knees. He inserted the head of his prick into the cleft between her satiny, firm buttocks. He worked the magic wand up and down, rubbing it back and forth across her asshole and down to the bunched softness of her pussy.
"Mmmmm!" she said again, and wiggled her ass seductively.
"Have you ever been fucked up the asshole?" he inquired casually.
She tried to laugh. "I have a better place for a prick than that."
"I don't know. Your asshole looks nice and tight."
"My cunt's tight, also."
"Well, well try the cunt first."
He maneuvered his hard cock to the cleft of the pussy and gave a deft twist of his hips. The spear of his manhood glided into her. True, she was tight enough in the quim. Her warm, little cunt felt very good, indeed.
He began to screw her, twisting and thrusting.
"Oooh, good! Good!" she exclaimed.
He didn't say anything. He just kept moving, but not rapidly. , "Doesn't it feel good to you?" she inquired.
"Quite good ... quite good," he said, and kept fucking.
Suddenly he pulled out and gave her a little slap across the butt. "Roll over," he said.
She did so, obediently, and lifted her legs in the air. He gazed at her rosy orifice, oval in shape. Its little muscles contracted as he watched.
She could be moister, he decided. She wasn't all as excited as she pretended to be. She was a cool operator, this cunt.
"Tell me what you want," he said. "I want you to fuck me, of course," she replied, trying to make herself pant.
"Be more explicit. I like to hear a lady use all the words."
"Stick your prick into me," she said. "Fuck me with that beautiful long, stiff rod."
"Fuck what?"
"My pussy. My hot, little pussy wants your cock."
"Let's see if it will grab for it," he said and directed his prick to the rim of her honey pot.
He rubbed the tip of his stick up and down, to stimulate the nerve ends in her labia. But he refrained from running his shaft into her.
"Oooh, give it to me!" she pleaded, closing her eyes. Her eyelids were an alluring shade of blue. Her pink, moist lips parted.
He worked his prick about an inch into her cunt. He continued to hold it and wiggle it around, reaming her soft pussy flesh.
"Oooh, Cy! Fuck me, darling. Fuck meeee!"
He pulled his cock out. He backed up and bent down to examine her pussy at close range. He placed his thumbs on its tender flanges and wiggled them, causing the folds of flesh to ripple.
He leaned closer and blew at her quim. "Oooooh!" she moaned.
He used his thumbs to open the top of her box and examine the hard bump of her clit. He rubbed his thumb up and down across it. She whined.
He moved forward again, gripped his prick, and agitated the tip of it against her clitoris. She panted harder. "Cy! Oh, God, you're killing me!" "But what a lovely way to die, hmmm?"
"I want your rod inside me. I want all of it. Please screw me, darling."
"Afraid Don might come home and catch us?" "Yesss! But I want it." She panted. "I'm about to come right now. Stick it innnn!"
He skidded his pecker into her rosy socket and shoved, sinking it up her channel. "Ooooh!" she cried. "Too much cock for you?" "No. No. I love it!"
He began to pull and thrust as he leaned forward on his arms. He moved briskly for about a half-dozen strokes, sinking his prick deeper and deeper into her wet, snug warmth. Then suddenly he pulled it all the way out. It swung free, trailing a string of moisture.
"Ooooh," she whined. "Please, darling. Please!"
She acted hot enough now. It was difficult to be certain. He decided to proceed with the fucking and see how well she climaxed. It was important for his ego to discover how truly involved, or just how cynical, she was about all this.
He drove his stiff dick into her again and resumed fucking briskly. She moaned and writhed, wiggling and bumping her warm cunt around his busy piston.
"Oooh, good ... good!" she cried. "I love it! Give it to me! Wowww!"
She was overdoing the talk a bit, he thought. But perhaps she really was well involved in the act. He would see.
He kept stroking his strong cock in her snatch, rubbing her clit on each gliding thrust and bearing in hard. She moved well with him. He increased the tempo. Finally he fucked her savagely, with all stops pulled, until his cock jerked and he let loose his load of cum.
Only then, when she felt him twitch and his warm cream flood into her cunt, did she quiver and buck upward, as if she were completing. She made it feel good to him, but he still couldn't be sure whether she really got there or not. The timing of it was too perfect.
He slipped his cock out of her when it began to soften.
"Wasn't that nice?" she asked, smiling up.
"I don't know how nice it was, but it was good. Did you enjoy it?"
"Of course."
"Now, about your husband's promotion .. ."
"What?"
"The sales managership. That's what you've been thinking about all evening, isn't it?" She didn't know what to say.
He smiled and turned to pick up his unfinished drink. "It's quite all right, Jennifer. I understand. Tell me - was it Don's idea that you should throw yourself at me this way, or was it your own?"
She didn't say anything, so he glanced at her. She was sitting up, staring at him angrily.
"Come come, Jennifer." He held out his hand to help her up. "No reason to be pissed off. It was a smart idea, and you carried it out well, but I really would have preferred to have you tell me at the outset what you had in mind, instead of trying to make me believe my middle-aged charm gave you a case of hot pants."
She got up, but she still didn't speak. He'd taken her so by surprise with this sudden change of attitude - and he'd seen through her with such unerring precision - that she didn't trust her judgment as to what she should say or do next. It was more a matter of this than of pique.
"Let's be frank with each other from now on," he I suggested. "Tell me - did you climax or not?"
God! If she told him she didn't, he'd be hurt. But if she lied, he might see through her again.
There was really no reason why she shouldn't have climaxed. He'd fucked her well, once he'd gotten down to it. But before that, he'd made her nervous, and this evidently had interfered with what would have been a perfectly normal response otherwise.
"Well, did you climax?" he repeated, more softly and with a little smile.
She tried to sidestep the question. "I'm not cold," she said.
"I know you're not. But did you climax on this particular occasion? "
"No," she admitted. The guile was gone from her eyes as she gazed at him.
"Good. I'm glad you told the truth. Now there's hope for us... and for Don. Sit on the edge of that chair over there and spread your legs."
She looked at him uncertainly.
"I want to give you a come," he explained. "You're entitled to it"
"It's all right," she said nervously, and turned away. "Don will be back soon. We'd better get dressed."
"Surely Don knows about this, doesn't he?"
She froze, but didn't look at him.
He grasped her arm and turned her around. "Tell me the truth again, or well be back where we started."
"Yes! He knows." She wondered if she'd screwed up the whole deal.
Brower chuckled. "Then sit down on the chair." Shakily she did as he'd requested. "Push that little pussy forward," he said. She pushed it forward, so that the shaggy box hung over the chair' edge.
"Now I'll see what I can do for you," he said, and knelt between her thighs.
She thought, for a moment, that he was going to suck her off. That would have been a gratifying experience in more ways than one, especially after he'd made her look like such a ninny. But she should have known this man wasn't a cuntlapper, especially when the cunt in question was full of his own cum. Even now, the goop was dribbling out and running along her soft, white crotch.
He used his finger on her.
She sat there and gazed at him as he worked the rigid digit in and out of her cunt, round and round, and in and out some more. After a while, he added a second finger to the function, and this gave the mouth of her pussy a sufficient sense of fullness.
The fingers fucked her more effectively than a prick could do, in a way, because they rotated freely as they stroked. This, a cock couldn't do nearly as well. Brower was careful to rub her clit on each gliding stroke. It was good. Soon she closed her eyes and moved her cunt against his penetrating circular thrusts, as if she were getting his prick. She lost track of the time.
She and Don had agreed that he shouldn't stay away too long, lest his absence appear suspicious. So they'd set a precise time for him to return.
On schedule, he opened the front door and walked into the living room. He caught Brower, naked, on his knees, his back to the door as he rotated his fingers in Jennifer's cunt.
He'd considered the possibility that there might be a foul-up and he might walk in too soon. But he certainly hadn't expected, in his wildest imaginings, to see anything like this.
Jennifer opened her eyes, then sat stark erect. Brower knew Don had come in, but he didn't turn to look. He wrapped a hand around one of Jennifer's tits and pushed her back down to a slumping position.
He dug at her cunt harder, driving his fingers round and round... in and out... rubbing her clit. He kept squeezing her titty at die same time. She whined and sighed heavily.
She resumed moving with him.
As Don stood and stared, speechless, Brower finger-fucked her to a delightful release, then stood up and wiped his fingers down his naked side.
"Did everything work out all right at the meeting?" he asked Don.
"What?" the latter inquired weakly.
"The meeting." He chuckled. "Never mind. Jennifer told me everything."
"Jen!"
"I... I couldn't help it," she moaned. "Well, shit!" Don said.
Brower laughed and went to pour himself a fresh drink.
Now was the time, he decided, to put in operation his plan for a direct confrontation between the Petersons and the Waverlys.. . and a direct contest between Elizabeth and Jennifer. It was only fitting, he assured himself with an inner chuckle.