Chapter 2

Of all the luxuries of his big, bright private office, the one Brad appreciated most was his secretary. Strictly business, she was. Except when the door was closed.

Then, for all her calm efficiency, she was strictly human. She was proud of her strong, beautiful, softly padded body. And it hadn't made her angry when Brad, at their very first meeting, had eyes her tits openly, licked his lips in mock lasciviousness and said, "That's what I call a movable feast!"

She wasn't dumb enough to permit any real playing around and Brad wasn't dumb enough to try to force it. The job meant too much. But he was always aware of her presence and it gave him food for thought.

Warm, pleasant thought-of Maida, warm and naked on a bed, her big, lovely thighs spread wide, her blonde cunt hair-he assumed she was a natural blonde-tufting above her warm pink slit, where natural heat distilled moisture to keep those inner lips slick and tasty.

He could visualize the tiny droplets of girlish perspiration gathered in the smooth valley between her firm breasts and almost invisible hairs, short and soft and fine, on her cushiony belly and on the underside of her boobs.

Their nipples and the big circles of puckered flesh surrounding them would be a tawny pink, quick to respond at the touch of his hand, of his lips, of his tongue.

His roving mind checked Maida's body a dozen times a day, but, except for an occasional good-natured pinch or pat, he let it go at that. And there were three very good reasons.

First, there was his job-an opportunity far beyond anything he had ever dreamed. He would not jeopardize it for any woman, no matter how beautiful. Bonturat was staffed, as far as female employees ware concerned, with nothing but good-looking girls. All of them put together wouldn't have been enough to distract Brad Street from his driving ambition to be the best public relations man who ever handled the real estate division of this big company.

The second reason was negative-a deep and abiding fear of being a fool. His ego, delicately balanced between confidence and insecurity, made him doubly sensitive to being laughed at, or even to being put in a position to be laughed at.

And the third reason was his wife. With a girl like Donna, as sexually desirable as any woman in the Bonturat organization, eager for his prick at any time, he never knew the terrible, driving need for sex that sometimes drove a man to desperation, to the folly that brought ridicule and to the even worse folly of being downgraded in the eyes of Bill Derwin. Therefore, his desire for Maida was easily controlled. It was just a pleasant way to divert his active mind. and if he occasionally got so far as to think of how that tight, slick hole between her cuntlips would feel to the sensitive head of his prick, a thought that always brought a warm expansion of his cock, it seemed there was always some distraction, some part of his job, to bring him back to earth.

On this particular occasion, it was his telephone. And Brad listened with alert interest as he realized that Maida was talking to Alison Carr, Bill Derwin's secretary.

"Oh, hi, Alison," she said. "Sure, he's here. Want to talk to him? Okay, I'll tell him; he'll be right up!"

She turned to Brad, her eyes shining. "The big boss wants to see you," she announced. Her pleasure was obvious. A strong feeling of the loyalty and warmth that comes from a common interest had given her a sound understanding of Brad and his needs. She knew how much he admired Derwin, how dedicated he was to success, how he usually came back from these meetings fired up with new ideas, new enthusiasm.

She stood close to him, straightening his tie. "You look great, Brad," she said and laughed as he gave her a pat on her firm and rounded hip.

"Don't go grabbing Alison like you do me," she warned. "That's Mister Derwin's very special private stuff."

Brad laughed happily, his spirits rising as they always did at the prospect of being close to Bill, who represented all that he most admired and most wanted to be.

"Maybe I'll wind up with her at one of Bill's family parties," he said. "If I ever get invited to one."

"Don't worry; you'll get invited," Maida assured him. "He doesn't have them often, but it's usually when he gets a new executive to break in-and wants to know him better!"

She watched as his broad young back disappeared through the door. Or wants to know his wife better, she giggled to herself.

Alison Carr was worth grabbing all right. Brad had decided that the first time he met her. She was beautiful, but what she had was more than mere beauty. In her early thirties, she had the poise and certainty that very few women of any age every possess. Tall, blonde, with the perfect figure of a Las Vegas showgirl, she was known as the smartest businesswoman in Santa Vaca.

"I don't know whether Bill fucks her or not," Tom Sorden had answered one of Brad's good-humored questions during one of their lunch engagements. "Maybe he does... Maybe he doesn't. But one thing for sure-she doesn't have to fuck to hold her job. She knows big business and finance and politics like nobody else in the firm except Bill. She could be a top executive with any firm in Santa Vaca."

So Brad had dropped the subject. But he never failed to respond to the strong aura of controlled sexuality that always seemed to surround this alive, alert, beautiful woman. She might be out of his reach, but not out of his thoughts.

Wouldn't it be something to have her for a personal private secretary? To be able to say, with smiling assurance, "Come over here, Miss Carr. Something had come up that I want you to take down for me!" And to have her walk over to your desk, smiling and complacent, closing and locking the door on her way, her eyes bright with interest and lust.

Alison greeted him warmly, as she always did. "Sit down, Brad," she said. "Mister Derwin's finishing a couple of belts of dictation. Can I get you something? Coffee, maybe? Not that you ever need anything to keep you awake-you look like a man on his toes!"

Brad laughed comfortably. The evident warmth and friendship coming from this smooth, smart woman was something he always appreciated. From the first day with the company, she had made him feel at home here. His eyes took in the gorgeous swell of her breasts, their tops revealed by her plunging neckline, her smoothly tanned legs casually thrust out from her chair.

"Thanks, Alison," he replied. "I just had coffee downstairs. And you're right- I don't need anything to soup me up. I guess it's working here at Bonturat. The people, the atmosphere. And the challenge, of course." He paused. He didn't want to sound like an over eager apple-polisher. Still, she was close to Derwin and it never hurt to do a little public relations work for yourself.

So, deliberately looking boyishly serious, he said in his most sincere voice, "It makes me feel as though all I want is to do the very best I can with my job!"

"Are you sure that's all you think about?" Alison asked teasingly. "The other day in the map library, when Maida was up on the ladder and you were pretending to hold it steady, you looked like you had more on your mind than business!"

For all of Alison's position and her closeness to Bill, Brad recognized this as friendly kidding and the personal intimacy of it made him feel more free and easy than ever. He laughed. If she wanted to clown around along these lines, it was all right with him.

"Well, I felt I ought to check and see if she was a real blonde," he said, grinning. "A secretary ought not to have any secrets from her boss."

Alison gave him an amused and measuring look and for just a moment, Brad wondered if he had gone too far. He remained smiling and quiet. After all, she had started it.

"Seems to me there's a better way of finding out," she said, her smile now mischievous. "Maybe a way that would be more fun for Maida!"

Brad tensed just a bit. This was getting down to the nitty-gritty. It was, obviously, a challenge to him to talk more freely about sex. But why? Did Bill want to know if he, Brad, had been fooling around with Maida? Not that anyone had told him to watch his step. But, in spite of Maida's crack about the duties of an executive secretary, Brad had an idea that an office romance might mark him as a man not sufficiently dedicated to his work. And this would be a good way for Bill to find out-having Alison get him to talking too much. Thank God that he had nothing to hide!

"Thank God," he said, smiling, "I have nothing to hide. Not that I wouldn't like to," he went on. "Maida's a terrific girl and she is a real blonde, even if I didn't find out in a fun way!"

He had the odd feeling that Alison had somehow read his mind, that she was aware, exactly aware, of the reasons for his momentary hesitation and her answer staggered him.

"You'll be more certain of your executive privileges as you go along, Brad," she said. "And maybe you'll get a chance to double-check on Maida's blondeness this weekend. Bill's giving a party and you and Donna are guests of honor."

She had lounged deeper into her chair, smiling as the happy surprise spread over Brad's face and now he got another shock. With her eyes fixed on his, Alison spread her knees far apart, so that her crotch, in this strong light and shaded only by the light fabric of her dress, was plainly visible. There was no question about it. She was, incredibly, showing him her twat and she laughed gently as his face reddened.

"So now you know about me, too, Brad," she said. "Just you and me and my hairdresser and a few select friends. And I'll be at the party, too!"

Confused as he was, Brad felt a surge of pure pleasure. And with it, a return of confidence. She wasn't trying to trap him into anything. And there was going to be one of those famous "family parties" he'd heard about in office gossip. But still he wanted more assurance.

"You're on the level about the party?" he asked, trying to keep his voice at an easy, natural pitch. "Or are you just trying to lead a poor country boy on?"

"Hah!" Alison replied. "You're no country boy. Not with that mind of yours and that drive! No, Brad, Bill has always liked you and liked the way you work. And now, you're really going to be one of the family!"

"Alison," he replied and this time there was no deliberate, faked sincerity in his manner, "you couldn't have said anything that would make me feel better. Of course we'll come to the party, but I'm really curious now. What goes on at these bashes?"

She eyed him with calm amusement. "What does the office grapevine say?" she countered.

Brad was fussed again, but he kept his face smooth. "I don't believe all I hear, you know. It doesn't sound possible!"

"What is there about them that doesn't seem possible?" she pressed him. "Tell me, I'll give you a straight answer."

"Why, all this business about sex indoors, outdoors, upstairs, downstairs." Brad gave his best man-of-the-world laugh. He was really trapped and he knew it. He had hinted at knowledge; he had been challenged and now he had to lay it on the line. If he didn't speak up, he'd look like a small-town jerk. He thought he saw a way out.

"Not that I believe it," he said. "I couldn't imagine Bill at a swap party!"

To his chagrin, Alison laughed with delight. At first he was angry with himself for seeming stupid, then with Alison for leading him into it. But he waited, saying nothing. And then she surprised him by getting up, crossing over to him and leaning her firm, warm hip against his shoulder and taking his hand. He grinned up at her ruefully.

"I seem to have said something stupid," he said.

"Not at all, Brad," the tall woman replied. "It's part of your charm that you're simple, non-devious and honest." She turned so that her crotch was inches away from his face and he was conscious of the warm perfume of her sex. "You're quite right about Bill. He'd no more take part in an ordinary swap party than he would open his fly and expose himself on a street corner at high noon."

She moved away, back to her chair and Brad was conscious that even this brief contact had started a stirring in the big roll of meat lying against his thigh.

"Men like Bill-if there are any like him-don't have to swap." Her voice was careful. "Bill could have almost anyone he wanted and not just on the basis of money, either. He's quite a man!" She smiled reminiscently.

"You don't have to tell me that!" Brad agreed.

Alison thought for a moment. "Bill has these parties only when there's a reason. You and your wife happen to be the reason."

Brad knew it was stupid, but he had to ask the question. "My wife? What's Donna got to do with it?"

"A great deal, Brad," Alison answered quietly. "When Bill hires a man for a key job-and yours is a key job, because it can lead to something much more important-he's making a long-term investment. And he doesn't make investments blindly. He researches. Don't be angry," she said hastily as Brad jumped. "And don't be surprised. I know this is your first experience with a really big organization."

"I'm not angry and I'm not surprised," Brad declared. "It's just that... that... " and he flushed slightly "... I don't see why he picked me if he... well... " and his voice trailed off.

"You mean about you and Donna having a little sexual fun outside the family?" Alison asked lightly. "That's one of the reasons he hired you. Bill thinks that a man without sex drive can't compete in today's world. That's one of the reasons for these parties. He feels that handling sex is like handling liquor. You can either do it or you can't. And Brad, you know something?" She laughed quietly. "I think maybe, because I like you so much personally, that I've been talking too much... that I'm telling things that maybe Bill ought to tell you!"

He got up and went straight to her, pulling her to her feet and looking straight into her eyes. "I'll never forget this, Alison," he said and once more he was completely, honestly sincere. He gave her a quick hug and kissed her on the cheek. "I'm only sorry it's not a swap party," he said. "That might be my one and only chance at someone as lovely as you."

She looked at him searchingly. "You're really sweet, Brad," she whispered. "And remember this-I only said that this wasn't a swap party in the usual meaning of the word. There's plenty of sex and nobody ever goes away feeling cheated. But wait a bit. You asked how your wife figured into it and we got off, the subject, right?"

At Brad's nod, she went on. "Bill believes that a man has to be right for the company and that his wife is an important factor in his success. At a party like this, he finds out a lot about everyone. And now," she said, looking troubled, "I'm sure I've talked too much." She gave him a real kiss this time, her arms around his neck and pressing his face to hers, opening her mouth and pushing a long, hot tongue between his lips, her body joined with his as closely as possible.

She pushed him away, her face slightly flushed and sat down.

"One more thing I'll tell you, Brad Street," she said, her voice low. "If Donna is so fortunate as to be chosen by Bill, I'll guarantee that she won't feel cheated. And I'll also guarantee, personally, that you won't feel cheated, either." Her smile was never warmer. "Maida's not the only girl in the firm who has the hots for you!"

Brad Street never went into a conference with Bill Derwin without a sense of excitement and anticipation. And he never left such a meeting without a sense of fulfillment, of having been recharged mentally and physically. There was a sense of calmness and power surrounding Derwin which affected everyone and Brad, more perceptive than most men his age, felt this power almost as a physical force.

Even his incipient hard-on, brought to life by the intensely provocative embrace with Alison-her firm tits pressing on his chest, her faintly moving crotch excitingly rubbing against his-receded as he sat opposite his boss.

"It's nothing really important that made me cut into your workday, Brad," Bill said, smiling. "More social than anything else, since it's only to tell you about a party we're having this weekend and to say I hope you and Donna can come."

Striving to keep the eagerness out of his voice, Brad simply said, "That's the most important thing I've heard today!"

Bill looked at him searchingly. "People being what they are-just human beings with the human urge to communicate-I imagine you've heard something about these parties."

Without hesitation, Brad said, "Yes, of course."

"Straightforward and terse. Both good qualities," Derwin said, laughing. "And I expect that Alison confirmed it."

For a split second, Brad's newfound sense of oneness with Alison and her rueful admission that she had talked too much, urged him to deny it. But Bill's mention of straightforwardness had its effect. However, his quick mind found a way to avoid either a lie or a direct admission of Alison's error.

"To some extent," he said simply. "Not in detail."

"Alison is a very reliable person," Bill remarked drily. "We'll let the party speak for itself, as far as the details are concerned. In any case, there's a good deal of freedom at my parties, so everyone works out details as we go along."

There wasn't a great deal more to the meeting. The time, the place- Derwin's home built on the bluffs overlooking the ocean-and other trivia. And a little something about Donna.

"Sure thing, Bill," Brad had answered that particular question. "She'll be looking forward to it as much as I will!"

"Good," Derwin replied. "I intend to see to it personally that she has a good time."

In the light of what Alison had said, there was no misunderstanding his meaning. And Brad meant it from the bottom of his heart when he answered, "She'll love it and I think you will, too."

Brad walked slowly back to his office. He had a lot to think about: a casual mention by Alison, just before he had gone into Bill's office, that Derwin had been married, many years ago and has a daughter. How old was she? Brad wondered. And where was she now? He shrugged his shoulders. The questions were, he felt, of no importance.

Another thing that seemed odd: there had been the sound of a telephone ringing and Alison's voice answering, coming from the intercom speaker on Bill's desk. Bill, unperturbed, had flicked a switch and cut it off. Had the intercom been open during his talk with Alison? and if so, had Alison known of it? Had her disingenuous statement that she had talked too much been pure fakery, a performance put on for his benefit? Or had Bill, with his prerogative of monitoring such a conversation, been keeping tabs on Alison as well as himself?

Brad's mind, not so non-devious as Alison had suggested, inclined to believe that both the boss and his secretary had been in on it. The idea tickled him. Pretty smart, he decided.

And there were two other little items, both pleasing.

Bill not only knew all about their swapping past, he also knew that they had rigorously avoided such practices since their move to Santa Vaca and the new job. "That's very smart, Brad," Bill had said. "We expect our people to avoid chances of scandal, or even gossip." Bill had been very genial about it. "Our parties help make up for whatever you and Donna miss," he had said. "This way, we keep it in the family."

And the other item was plain, man-to-man fun-talk.

"I think you'll like the girls I've invited," Bill had said, putting a slight emphasis on the second-person pronoun. "Of course, we don't coerce anyone. The girls have a sense of free choice. But they all understand why they're there. So have all the fun you can!"

Pretty good, Brad thought. It was very plain that he could expect to fuck any girl he found at the party.

He shivered with anticipation. Maida and Alison, he knew about. The others would be a pleasant surprise.