Chapter 9
Joan served the cup of tea and sat down in a chair opposite her guest, admiring the statuesque dignity and beauty of Cynthia Moore despite the uncomfortable awkwardness of their first meeting.
"It's awfully nice of you to have me over. Mrs. Welby. Dick speaks so highly of your husband. That is, when we have a chance to talk at all. He's gone so much that I feel like an office widow."
Cynthia was tall and had breasts out of proportion to her size. A perfect catch for a big tit fancier, Joan noted. Her long naturally curly blonde hair fell past her shoulders and reached down to the outstretching breasts. The bosom stood out over a flat newlywed stomach yet to be made pregnant. The belly flared out at the sensuous full hips to complete the hourglass effect of her figure, a shape Joan knew that men would fight over to fuck.
"My Harry tells me that your husband has a very promising future in the organization," Joan told her. "He's starting from a very good spot. He has the job that Harry had until his promotion two months ago."
Joan wanted to smile at the look of flattered pride on the innocent face of Cynthia Moore, whose husband was humping all the old broad clients of the firm in order to keep his job. Joan wondered how the virtuous young wife would look if she knew her precious hubby was sticking his thing inside aged old cunts who loved feeling clean young cock and who would double their business with the office to keep up a steady supply.
Joan knew from experience, because Harry had been forced to play the gigolo until Tom finally approved the change. But, of course, there was a condition. Tom never gave anything unless it had a condition attached.
Tom wanted the new man and his wife introduced into their swapping circle. Harry was working on Dick Moore while Joan had to do the sales job on Cynthia.
"Yes, Dick studied and worked very hard. He wants so much to be a success."
"That's where we wives can help. It's amazing how much we can do to help push ahead the careers of our men without them knowing it," Joan said.
"What do you mean, Mrs. Welby?"
"Please call me Joan, dear. I think you'll agree that half the battle is the right social contacts. For example, what if you and your husband had the chance to mingle socially with Tom and Alice Carter, the boss and his wife? Maybe even join us on a weekend at their country house."
Cynthia leaned forward, interested in any way she might help shape and advance the position of her husband in the business world.
"That would be perfect, Mrs. Welby... I mean, Joan. Only how?"
Joan reached out and patted the young woman's hands.
"Just leave all the details to me," Joan said, a strange satisfied smile on her lips.