Chapter 8

Miriam bathed and sprayed on the pheromone scent she'd been using for a couple years. Hot pussy, she called it. She didn't know if it worked, but nobody had ever shied away from her because of an offensive odor, so she did know that it didn't hurt.

She thought carefully about how she wanted to dress. First impressions were important, and she didn't want to turn Sandy off before she had a chance to turn him on. So, nothing too flashy, she supposed, at least on the outside. She had some lacy panties that she wore when she gave Aaron a strip show, skimpy things that fastened on the hips so they could be dropped with a minimum of trouble. A pair of them, along with a lacy half-bra, ought to be just the ticket.

The next question was, which color? Black was more seductive, hence more subtle. Red was a hot color that stirred the libido, so red seemed more suitable for her purpose today. Should she wear a garter belt? Yes, she thought so, a lacy red one to match her bra and panties, but not red hose. That would be carrying it too far, so she chose sheer, neutral hose.

For outer garments, she chose an ecru linen miniskirt and matching double-

breasted jacket that came just below her ass. Matching high heel sandals and purse, and she was ready to set off on her great adventure. If things went the way she planned, she would come home not only well-fucked, but with Aaron's promotion in the bag as well.

The hotel Miriam selected for her lunch date with Sandy was a small commercial establishment that catered to small business people who weren't on an expense account and had to spend their own money to travel. Little known to the local crowd, it had twenty-five clean rooms, good room service from its excellent restaurant and everything was moderately priced.

More important, from Miriam's point of view, was that she owned fifty percent of the place. She might throw her pussy around with what seemed like reckless abandon, but she was frugal with her money, and had bought into the hotel as part of her individual retirement plan before she married Aaron and left the hurly-burly of the business world to be a full-time housewife.

She got to the hotel a few minutes early, made arrangements for the room, put the key in her handbag, then went into the dining room. The hostess led her to the table she had reserved the day before, one strategically placed so they could see but not be overheard.

Sandy arrived a few minutes later, pointed Miriam out to the hostess and crossed the room toward the table, wending his way through the young women modeling lingerie.

Neal 'Sandy' Hogan was forty, with sandy hair-hence the nickname-and multicolored eyes that seemed to notice everything but weren't exactly piercing. He was a little over six feet tall, was getting full around the waist, and the deep tan he got from working outside was turning sallow after so much time behind a desk.

He pulled out a chair and sat down and said, "Hello. I didn't know this place was here."

"Hello, Sandy," Miriam replied.

The waitress arrived with their drinks, and Sandy picked his up and sniffed it.

"Yes, I remember what you drink," Miriam said.

"Impressive," he said. "I thought this was going to be just a casual lunch."

"It is," she replied, "but we're going to talk a little business, too. What do you think of the show?"

He eyed the women in the shockingly revealing lingerie ensembles and clinging, sheer lounging pajamas and grinned. "Revealing," he quipped. "If I had known about this, I would have found the place sooner."

"Everything you see if for sale," Miriam said.

He cocked one eyebrow and said, "Oh?"

"I meant the outfits, but you could probably arrange something for the models." She knew damn well he could arrange something for the models. The fashion show was her idea, and she personally interviewed and hired the women. Cheap escorts services didn't measure up to her standards, and the exclusive, and expensive, escorts services were out of reach for the average small business person. If the hotel was going to cater to those small business people, the way to ensure repeat business was to cater to all their needs. Most of the models were bisexual, and for those women who didn't go that route, there were discreet young men on call. "The kitchen turns out a good prime rib sandwich on dark rye and an excellent grilled salmon steak."

"You seem to know a lot about the place," he said.

"I do," she replied, deliberately not elucidating. "If you like the service and the atmosphere, you might consider steering some business their way. I'm sure the owners would appreciate it."

"Yeah, I probably can," he said. "I think I'll have the grilled salmon."

"Will it harm your masculinity if I order?"

"Assertive women don't bother me," he replied.

Miriam signaled to the waitress and ordered, and two of the models drifted over and showed off their outfits to Sandy.

"Too bad my wife won't wear something like that," Sandy said after the waitress and models left. "She wears flannel in the winter and cotton in the summer, and it all comes all the way down to her ankles."

"Maybe she doesn't like her body."

"Nothing wrong with her body, it's her mind. She used to wear sexy stuff. Come to think of it, she stopped when I was promoted and moved into the office. Wonder if there's a connection."

"Maybe macho men turn her on, and now that you're in the office, you're no longer her macho man. Have you talked to her about it?"

"No, I've been too damn busy chasing paper and trying to solve everybody's petty problems. Was psychology your major in college?"

"No, I'm just an observer of people," Miriam replied. "The way they act, the things they do, fascinate me."

Their food and a bottle of wine arrived, and they set to.

"You're right," Sandy said, "this salmon is delicious, and the wine is just right."

"It's a local brand," she said, "grown in the Pikes Peak area."

He read the label on the bottle. "Have to remember the name and get a few bottles. You're easy to talk to. Pretty sexy, too, if I can say that without getting in trouble."

Miriam laughed softly. "Telling me that I'm sexy won't get you in trouble." Maybe the pheromones did work. "I'm a good listener, too, so if you want to talk, go right ahead." Letting him talk not only would reveal something about him, it would also relax him, both of which she wanted.

"I'm a people person, you know," he said. "Being cooped up in an office is driving me crazy. I liked it better when I was outside, meeting people, interacting with them. Now, I feel like a boring blob. Maybe that is why Betty changed. Maybe I ought to ask from my old job back and get back outside where I belong. I've thought about it a lot lately. I'm not making that much more money being in the office. It's mostly just a imagine title and work that I don't like."

"How does Betty feel about it?"

"Don't know," Sandy replied. "That's something else I ought to do, talk to her, tell her how I feel and see what she's got to say."

"It couldn't hurt," Miriam said. "From what you say, things couldn't get any worse. Now, there's something I want to talk to you about."

"Turn about is fair play," Sandy said.

"It's about Aaron's promotion. You know that he deserves one, and I don't understand what the holdup is."

Sandy put his knife and fork down and said, "Miriam, that's all.. . "

She held up her hand to stop him and said, "You're going to tell me that it's all up to the men who run the show to decide, and that's unacceptable. I invited you to lunch for a specific reason, Sandy. I want you to see that Aaron gets promoted, and I'm willing to make it worth your while."

He wasn't quite as slow as he looked. "Oh, how would you do that?"

"Quite simply, I'm willing to barter my tight little pussy for my husband's promotion," she said quietly. "I've already rented a room here, and I'll spend the afternoon with you, doing whatever you want. I'm very good, Sandy, and I'm sure that you'll feel well paid for your efforts getting Aaron promoted."

He didn't know why Aaron hadn't already told her that his promotion was in the bag, and right now, he didn't care. Aaron was his co-worker, but they weren't close friends. If his wife wanted to favor him with a little of what he was sure was prime pussy, who was he to object? Even if he and Aaron had been close friends, it probably wouldn't have made all that much difference, not with what Miriam was offering. Ever since he'd known her, he'd wanted to fuck her, and now that he had the chance, nothing else mattered.

"Miriam, anybody who handles explosives for a living is a little nuts, including me, but I'm not nearly as stupid as I look," he said. "But you have to understand, I can't guarantee anything."

"I know that the final decision will be made by the big wheels at corporate, but you must swing a lot of weight," she said. She batted her eyes and gave him a smoldering, flirtatious look. "All I want is for you to try."

"Yeah, I'll try real hard," he said, looking her over openly, "real, real hard."

"Do you have a phone?" He patted his coat over his chest, and she continued, "Call your office and tell them that you won't be back until late, then turn the damn thing off. I don't want anything to disturb us."

"Yeah, neither do I." He made his call, turned the phone off and dropped it in the side pocket of his coat.

"Lunch is on me," Miriam said. "Let's go upstairs and have some fun."

As they walked to the elevators, he said, "You're not doing this just to get Aaron promoted, are you?"

She chuckled sexily and bumped her hips against his. "You're right, you're not stupid."

In the elevator, they stood close together and Sandy breathed deeply a couple times.

"I don't know what it is, but something about the way you smell is positively captivating," he said.

Well, I guess that stuff does work. She leaned against him slightly and said, "Thank you."

"This is quite a surprise, you know. When you dropped your little bombshell, you just about blew me away."

"Well, I haven't yet," she laughed, "but believe me, I will, and you'll love it!"

She unlocked the door and went into the room ahead of him and set her handbag down. He patted her ass, and she turned to face him and put her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply, then backed up a step and removed his coat.

"Have a seat, honey, and I'll be right with you," she said.

There was a love seat, a straight-back chair and an upholstered chair, and he chose the love seat. She went to the radio by the bed and twirled the dial until she found a station playing soft rock, then turned and stepped up on the love seat, straddling his legs.

She wiggled and twisted without moving her feet and ruffled his hair and let him look up her skirt, then squatted and took off his tie and unbuttoned his shirt. She stood again and unfastened her short skirt and let it drop over his head and amazed him by somehow getting one leg out of the skirt with it over his head. He tried to look at her crotch, but the skirt was in the way, and then her other leg was out of it and it was draped around his head.

He lifted the skirt off his head and tossed it over his shoulder and looked up at her. Her jacket covered her ass and hid her pussy, and he cocked his head to the side and looked under the jacket at the junction of her shapely legs.

"You're a very unique and titillating woman," he said softly.

She chuckled and ruffled his hair and danced a little again, then took off her jacket and draped it over the back of the love seat. He laid his head on the back of the love seat and looked up at her.

She stood with her hands on her hips and gave him a smile that turned his balls to molten lava. "Teasing you this way really excites me," she said, her voice soft and quivering with arousal. "I feel bold and brazen and totally uninhibited, and my panties are so wet, they're sticking to my pussy."

He stared at her panty-clad crotch. "There isn't much there, and what there is looks soaked."

"It is," she said softly, "and they get wetter when you look at me that way."

"And what way is that?"

"As if you could eat me alive."

"Damn straight, baby. No man has ever had a better meal."

She pulled the crotch of her panties so far into her hairy seam that her lips hung below it, hunched her hips, imitating a fucking motion as she sawed it back and forth, stimulating her clit and spreading juice up and down her slit, then deftly opened the hooks on each side and let the panties drop into his lap.

The gluttonous, lusty enthusiasm for sex radiating from her voluptuous body swept over him like a strong, hot wind. "You are truly a sexy little minx," he said, his voice hoarse with lust.

"I'm a horny bitch, baby," she replied, "and you can have me any way you wish. Whatever you want, I'll do my best to give you."

She took off her bra, then put her hands on her knees and squatted and opened and closed her legs with her pussy right in front of his face. He ran his palm along the underside of her thigh and caressed one cheek of her ass, and she put her hands behind his head and pulled his face between her tits and pummeled him with the resilient mounds.

She leaned back and lifted her left tit and held the nipple out to him. He licked the thick tit tip, and she did too, the tip of her tongue on top and the tip of his tongue below. He chuckled, and she swapped tits and they licked the right one together.

"You really are something else," he laughed.

"You'd better believe it," she replied.

She stood and put her slit over the tip of his nose, then picked up the beat of the music and wiggled and twisted. When the song ended, she stepped down from the love seat and looked at his crotch.

"Is your cock real hard yet?"

"Maybe, maybe not," he teased.

"If that lump in your pants isn't a hard cock, you're deformed, so don't try to pull the wool over my eyes," she laughed."

"Maybe I'll just blindfold you and fuck you," he said.

"Tie me up, tie me down, spank my ass, fuck me right side up, upside down, in any hole you want, as long as you don't get rough or hurt me."